“Good.” He hunkered down beside her. “So you feel better?”

She nodded.

“I’m glad. You have enough to worry about.”

He crouched there, looking at her as if she was supposed to make some kind of response, but she wasn’t sure what.

After a moment of silence, he said, “If you want more lessons with your dagger, I can give them. Your sister is an excellent warrior but a lousy teacher.”

Ashyn sputtered a laugh. “Patience is not her strong suit.”

“I can tell.”

“It doesn’t help that she’s distracted.”

“We all are. Understandably.”

“I meant that if she seems . . . cool, it’s just the circumstances.”

He frowned, as if confused. “All right. But I’m serious about the lessons. We’ll be on the road a few more days, and I’m happy to give them.”

“Thank you.” She glanced over. “I’m sorry if I’ve been sharp with you.”

He frowned. “You were sharp with me?”

“Distant or . . .” She could tell by his expression that he had no idea what she was talking about. Apparently, unlike Moria, she did not convey her feelings well. “I’ve been as distracted as anyone, I fear. I only wanted to say thank you for all you’ve done, and I’m sorry your return to the city was delayed. I know you have someone waiting for you.”

“Someone . . . ?” He gave her an odd look.

“You said you had someone waiting.”

“I said I had . . .” He sputtered a small laugh. “You think I have a girl waiting?”

“No, of course not. I just said—”

“You said someone in a tone that leaves no doubt that someone must be young and female. Truly? I was exiled to my death, Ashyn. If there was a girl—which there was not—I’d hardly expect her to be waiting for me.” He sat a few moments in silence. “I have a younger brother and a sister. They’re the ones I need to get back to.”

She glanced over. “Then why would you not simply say so?”

He shrugged. “There was enough to worry about. I wasn’t going to burden you with my life story.”

“Telling me you have a brother and sister is hardly your life story.”

Another shrug and when she looked over at him, she knew there was more to it. She saw guilt there, and discomfort, as he shifted and kicked at a small rock.

“How old are they?” she asked. “And no, I’m not prying. I’ll ask that and nothing more.”

“Aidra is six summers and Jorn is almost ten. They’re staying with my aunt. She’ll take care of them well enough, but . . . they are of an age where she’ll want them to start earning their keep, and I’d rather they did not. If I can help it, they will not.”