He studies me with solemn eyes, and then he presses his hand to his chest and crosses his index fingers.
I sniffle and blink more tears from my eyes. “Does that mean you won’t come with me? Does that mean goodbye?” I ask, and the thought hurts so much that I am tempted to knock him over the head and drag him away with me if he won’t come of his own free will.
He shakes his head and frames my face in his hands, wiping the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “I will follow you to the end of the world, Sorrowlynn of Faodara.” He leans down and puts his lips against my forehead, so soft and sweet and tender that more tears wet my eyes. The contact fills me with warmth, and hope, and joy—feelings so opposite from those still lingering in my mind from the mercenary I killed.
I wrap my arms around Golmarr and lean against his chest. His strong arms close about me and hold me. Silent, I stand there and simply exist in the shelter of his arms. After a long moment, I say, “Let’s go.” I step away from him, but he grabs my hands.
“Give me two minutes to ask Edemond for horses and a bow and arrows.” He waits until I nod, and then strides off across the clearing. I kneel and wipe my hunting knife clean on the lush ground. Someone steps up to me. For a moment I stare at worn brown boots peeking out from beneath a red skirt. Peering up, my eyes meet Melisande’s. Slowly, I stand and sheathe the knife.
Her bottom lip quivers, and she squeezes my shoulder in her hand. “You saved my life. Thank you.”
I nod and think that if I weren’t here in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to save her, because the mercenaries wouldn’t have come to her camp. But I don’t say that. Instead I say, “You’re welcome.”
She looks me up and down and asks, “How did you learn to fight like that? The rumors we hear of your kingdom say your women are weaklings who don’t know how to swing a weapon. And you, with nothing more than a walking stick, saved my life!”
A hint of a smile softens my mouth. “The noblewomen of Faodara are not taught to fight. I am the exception.”
“Is that why you chose to face the dragon instead of marrying? Because you wanted to fight it?” She glances across the camp, at Golmarr. “Why did you choose the dragon over him? Look how handsome he is! You seem to like him well enough, and I saw him give the hand signal that he loves you just now.”
My heart starts thumping. “Wait. This?” I press one hand to my chest, and then cross my two pointer fingers. “This means I love you?”
She crosses her fingers and says, “Friend.” Pressing on her chest, she adds, “Of my heart. Or heart friend. That is how the horse clan says, I love you.”
My body overflows with warmth. I look at Golmarr and find him staring at us with his head tilted slightly to the side, and I am wrapped in such a feeling of peace I can’t help but smile despite the death surrounding me.
“Why did you choose the dragon?” Melisande asks again.
“Because being eaten alive seemed like a better choice than going home with my father or the horse clan,” I say, staring at Golmarr’s back and broad shoulders as he talks to Edemond. “I was a fool. If I could do it all over again, I would just outright ask to be betrothed to Golmarr.”
“So you love him, too?” Melisande asks.
“I don’t know what being in love feels like. The thought of not being with him hurts. And when I kissed him last night…” I swallow.
Melisande fans her face and clears her throat. “Yes, I think we all felt the attraction there.” She looks over my shoulder. “That was some kiss you shared with your wife last night, young horse lord.”
My skirts swish against my legs as I flip around and find Golmarr standing behind me holding the reins of a saddled horse in one hand and a saddlebag in the other. He has a bow and quiver strapped to his back, and a mischievous smile graces his face. “I can’t keep her hands off me,” he says, but then he frowns. “She’s not truly my wife—you know that.”
“I suppose not. But she should be!” she blurts.
Golmarr shrugs, and his clean-shaven cheeks turn bright pink beneath his tan skin. “Maybe one day she’ll agree with you,” he says, looking at me.
“Maybe she already does.” Melisande winks at me, and I stiffen. She laughs and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Goodbye, Princess Sorrowlynn. I will never forget that you saved my life today.”
Edemond and Enzio, leading another horse, approach us. Edemond stands behind his wife and puts his arms around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I hear we owe you thanks for her life, Princess Sorrowlynn,” he says. “To repay the debt, my son would like to travel with you.”