I drew in a steadying breath, uncertain of what to say but knowing I had to get it out. If Clover was adamant about never setting foot in Highgate, she needed to know what lay ahead of us.

  What we had was fragile and painfully new. I couldn’t risk losing it over a hurt that might come later because I hadn’t been honest now.

  Before I could speak, she sighed. “Here I am, rambling about the future when we’ve got a mountain of things to do first. Retrieving the Veridanis won’t be easy, even if Timbur and Haltir agree to help.”

  Her voice dipped with a rare note of uncertainty. I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. “You seemed confident they’d help before. What changed?”

  She stared into the fire, her fingers playing idly with mine as she searched for the right words. “Timbur–the berserker–won’t be an issue. He might insist on coming, even though I’d prefer he stay to keep Starkfell secure. Haltir, though… he’ll be harder to convince.”

  Silence stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts. When she didn’t elaborate, I gently squeezed her hand. “Why? Starkfell’s people are suffering. What reason could he have for not helping if he’s nearby?”

  Her grimace deepened, but her tone held no judgement. “He’s not staying nearby; he’s an adventurer passing through. He has no connection to these people.” She hesitated, then added. “He’s searching for someone–a woman from his past. He believes she was taken against her will. He only came to Starkfell because of a lead on her whereabouts.”

  Sympathy flared, sharp and immediate. “I can’t fault him for that. If something happened to my siblings–or you–I’d tear the country apart to find you.”

  Her tension lingered, though, and when it refused to fade, I pressed. “But there’s more to this, isn’t there? Did he do something while in town?”

  She bit her lip, turning into my chest, her eyes clouded with wariness. “He hasn’t done anything yet, but his eyes make me wary.” She met my gaze, something cagey in her stare. “I’ve seen those eyes before, in Highgate. That is a man who will tear through anyone or anything for his goal. He’ll manipulate, bribe, threaten, or kill–whatever it takes. Even if it means the world will burn.”

  Her wariness made sense now.

  I should have felt the same, but instead, painful understanding welled up.

  “I can’t judge,” I murmured, half to myself. “I don’t know how far I’d go if someone I cared for was threatened. I might do the same.” I grimaced. “I might do worse.” I’d already made a reckless pact to protect my family. If it came down to it, how far would I go?

  The memory of Beatrice’s tear-streaked face hit me like a blow, her would-be captors’ smug expressions–twisted with lust and greed–burned into my mind. I curled Clover closer and shook my head. “Scratch that. I know exactly how far I’d go, and it’s not pretty.”

  Clover raised an eyebrow, her expression open and without fear despite my ominous words.

  “You sound like you know that for a fact. Have something you’d like to tell me, Darling?” Her voice was teasing, but curiosity shone through.

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  I shrugged, answering honestly. “I’ve done less-than-moral things to protect my siblings. Years ago, I found Beatrice–my other sister, aside from Daedra–fleeing Starkfell.”

  The memories rose easily. “She was being chased by her would-be betrothed and his thugs. Her parents sold her into marriage when she was just twelve winters old.”

  Anger clawed at my nerves, and I gritted my teeth. “They didn’t care that she refused, that her intended was triple her age, or that she hadn’t even gotten her first cycle yet.”

  Beatrice’s tear-streaked face was seared into my memory, the ghost sensation of nails digging crescents into my arm following shortly behind.

  “She looked at me like I was her last hope. And, looking back, I was. If I’d handed her over, she wouldn’t have escaped again. She would have been at the non-existent mercy of those disgusting sacks of skin.”

  My blood boiled, and I took a steadying breath. “Of course, I did no such thing.”

  Clover’s expression hardened, her voice sharp with conviction. “Whatever you did, they deserved it and more.”

  I smiled faintly, some of the old anger easing. “I sent her to Dawncrest, told her to find my house and tell my brothers I sent her. Then, I…dealt with her pursuers. They swore they wouldn’t rest until they had her.”

  I shrugged. “So, I threw them to the wolves outside Dawncrest. They were aristocrats, too soft to survive. They didn’t stand a chance. I left them there and, when people came knocking to ask about them, and later Beatrice, I lied. Only the mayor knows the truth. And now you.”

  I looked to the twin moons hanging in the sky. “I won’t judge Haltir for doing what he thinks is necessary, because if it came down to it, I would have marched to Starkfell myself to rake her parents over the coals for what they tried to do.”

  I’d been tempted to do it anyway, over the years, but everyone assumed Beatrice was dead and she preferred it that way. I wouldn’t rip that away from her to sate my anger.

  “As long as Haltir’s focusing that mentality on people who deserve it, I couldn’t care less. But if he ever turns it on an innocent…” I let the thought stand, my tone darkening.

  Clover nodded after a long pause. “You have a point. Maybe I’m just jumpy because the other people who have those eyes don’t focus on saving people. Their goals are more…corrupt.”

  She shook herself and relaxed against me, reaching for the Rock Snake again. Offering it to my free hand–her fingers not so much as twitching to release their hold on my captive one–she continued.

  “We’ll see if Haltir will help or not. There’s no use worrying about it now.”

  I took a bite of the cold meat and nearly choked when she added with a sly smile, “As for your other ‘dream’ worries…” Her finger trailed down my chest, stopping a scarce few inches above my waist. “We’ll handle that if and when it happens. I would prefer to wait for such things until we have an inn, but I could be convinced otherwise with the right words from you.”

  Heat coiled low in my stomach, and I groaned. Dropping my head onto her shoulder, I ignored the heat climbing my cheeks with sheer force of will. “You sound like you’re hoping I’ll have those dreams.”

  She shrugged, smile firmly in place as she cuddled into my chest pointedly. “Maybe, maybe not. Now finish your food so we can go to bed.” She yawned, shivering as she snaked an arm under my shirt. “It’s getting colder by the minute and I, for one, want to be tucked into our bedroll before the chill sets in.”

  Our bedroll. That would take some getting used to.

  She won’t want to be near you once she knows the truth, so you may as well enjoy it now.

  The insidious voice of doubt coiled around my thoughts. I shoved it aside, focusing on her warmth and the lingering taste of garlic instead.

  I'd tell her once we got to Starkfell and the herb was handled. If it went badly… Well, that was a problem for Future-Frederick.