Traven awoke with a start, his bedroom door bursting open with Rhea bearing a plate of food. Fire shot through his side from his abrupt movement. He groaned and winced, falling back against his pillow. He saw the raindrops spattered on his window and realized it was later in the day than it seemed.

“Mina told me all about the horse. I’m thankful you went to check on them after flying Horace, but must I keep telling you that the horses scare easily at night? It’s dangerous to do that alone anyway what with horse thieves and that ilk coming ’round.”

Horse? Mina must have… Traven shook his head, “I just heard something in the stables and wanted to make sure the gates were properly latched. We don’t need them getting loose and messing up the place.”

Rhea smoothed Traven’s blankets and set the plate of food on his bedside table. “Your father is back on patrol today. Help Mina with housework if you’re feeling up for it. She made you some bandages in case you need to wrap your ribs, so it’s the least you could do in return.” She pulled a couple of rolls of linen from her pocket and set them next to the breakfast plate.

“Thank her for me. I’ll be out after I finish eating.”

Rhea nodded and closed the door behind her as she left the room. Traven ate the biscuits and sausage before assessing his injury, knowing the sight of the wounds would make him lose interest in the delicious food. Plate cleared, he pulled the linen shirt over his head. Mina must have dressed me to hide the damage. He looked at the bandages wrapped around him, blood seeping through two patches. He sat up a bit more and began to take off the bandage, revealing two linen pads stuck to the wounds. He gently peeled off one of the bandages, noticing an ointment had been applied to help the bandages come away easily.

The wound looked more like a burn than a puncture. Traven sighed in relief. He removed the other pad as easily as the first, using the cleaner side of the cloth to wipe away the ointment from both wounds. He tore off short lengths of linen from the fresh rolls and folded them up, placing them over the wounds, then he wound a roll of cloth around his abdomen to secure the pads. He ripped the strip off the roll and tucked the free end of the bandage back into itself against his ribs. Traven slowly swung his feet out of bed and to the floor, noting that he didn’t have much pain when he moved with care. He was able to dress without much difficulty and left his room to meet Mina in the kitchen. Rhea was gone and probably out in the garden.

Mina looked up from the dough she was kneading as Traven entered. “How are you feeling?”

“Remarkably well.” Traven took a seat at the table near her workstation. “He just grazed me?”

Mina nodded. “Yes. Of course. Care to slice the peaches for me?”

She’s lying. There was too much blood. And the pain… “Sure.” Mina passed him a cutting board and knife, then set several peaches on the table for him to prepare. “Did I get good ones? These were the best Marcel had.”

“They’re nice and sweet. I tried one this morning.”

“Mina,” Traven rubbed at his wounds to answer their itchiness, “what happened last night?”

Mina stopped kneading the dough, looking out into the common room and back at Traven. She started working the dough again. “I had to nearly drag you home. What with our gear and Horace, I’m surprised we made it back before sunup. It wasn’t twenty minutes before Belros was up and in the kitchen. I came out and started the stove fire while he–”

“Before that,” Traven interjected. “What happened in Old Ginleux?”

Mina ripped the dough in two and slammed the larger piece into a cast iron pie pan. “Can’t leave well enough alone?”

“Tell me.”

“I scarcely know myself, and it’s best you don’t know at all.” She pressed the dough out to the sides of the pan.

“I can’t help you if you keep your secrets to yourself.”

“This is … different.” Mina pushed into the top edge of the pie crust with her thumbs and began to mold it over the edge of the pan.

“How so?”

Mina stopped and turned quickly, her sandy hair fanning out with her abrupt movement. “You truly want to know?”

“No, I need to know.” Traven scowled, concerned, while Mina remained silent and glowered at him. “Please tell me.”

Mina’s expression softened slightly. She kept looking up from Traven to check the state of the household. It was clear she was more concerned about others hearing what she had to say, not Traven. That’s when he saw it.

Traven stood up and walked around the table, and Mina took a step back. He reached out toward her, close to her face. Mina reflexively pulled back slightly as he took the hair to the left side of her neck in his hand. He raised it up, examined her neck, and then raised more hair on the back of her neck.

Mina visibly tensed. “How … how bad is it?”

“You didn’t see this yet?”

“I barely had you tucked in bed before I started cooking. I hastily changed and had to wash up in here. I’m fortunate it was too dark for Belros to see your blood on my hands.”

Traven traced the bright red burn lines on the back of her neck, following their design to the bottom of her ear, stopping at the back of her jaw.

Mina looked at him from the corners of her eyes, face relaxed and posture stoic, and asked in a flat tone, “Is that all?”

Traven walked behind her and lifted the hair on the right side of her head. “They’re here too, symmetrical. You’ll need a higher collar. A muffler. Anything.”

Mina left the kitchen and went into the side entry, returning with a navy scarf tied around her neck. The ends were tucked into her bodice. Fortunately the rainy weather warranted such an accessory. She walked back over to Traven. “Can you see the marks?”

Traven lifted all of her hair and looked around her neck. “I can barely see the tips near your jaw, but they look like redness from the warmth of the scarf. No one would call attention to them.”

Mina chuckled lightly, shaking her head a few times, “It seems I paid a higher price than I thought.”

Traven grabbed her left shoulder.

“Hey, easy with that one. It’s still sore.”

“Oh … sorry.” He relaxed his grip. “Is that what you were talking about? What was the other price?”

Mina grinned. “I’ve gone and told on myself, haven’t I? It’s no use keeping it from you now. Just don’t do anything rash.”

It’s always a game with her. “Alright.”

“Promise me.”

“I swear.” Traven resolutely nodded and removed his hand from her shoulder.

“Well then ….” Mina unbuttoned her bodice after another quick check of the common room, then untucked the linen undershirt from the top of her skirt. She raised the side of her shirt, revealing a linen bandage snugly wrapped around her abdomen.

Traven exhaled, reeling, and put his hands on his head, fingers combing into his dark hair. “Did the buck come back? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Traven. It wasn’t the buck–technically. We share the same wound. This is the price I paid.” She hastily tucked her shirt back into place and started rebuttoning her bodice.

“Are you serious? Nothing like that has happened before. Not once. Has it?”

“I’ve never tried to heal you like that before.”

“Ha, yes, not before,” Traven dramatically waved his hands in the air, “but you really did it this time.”

“I merely wanted you to not die,” Mina finished fastening the last button and tucked the muffler back in. “That’s all I wanted. I wasn’t trying to do anything but stop the bleeding. It’s not like I know the rules. I don’t know much of anything about it.”

Traven sat back down and rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. “Gods, girl. You’re not making this any easier.”

“I can hide the marks from the inspectors as I always have. If they continue to grow at this rate … you know I would leave before I put Ginleux in any danger.” Mina returned to the pie pan after gesturing toward the pile of fruit on the table. Traven began to peel and slice the peaches in front of him.

“And your leave would raise questions. That’s why we need to stay together–no matter what comes.”

Mina shook her head. “How many times must I tell you your family needs you? It would kill Rhea if something happened to you, let alone us both. I’ll go when I must.”

“I made you a promise. I was supposed to leave years ago to squire regardless. She will come to accept my choice, and it would be safer for you. My parents would reach the obvious conclusion if we disappeared together.”

“As others already have.”

Traven balked at her comment. “Is that so?” I wonder… “Cathlyn is still giving you trouble about us? I can talk to her again.”

“She is a lost cause. Her mind was made up ages ago. You could marry her and she would continue to cause problems for me.”

Traven chuckled. Cathlyn, the daughter of one of Belros’ men, was renowned for her needlepoint and manner of pleasantry. Her father bragged about her striking looks, stylish attire, and dutiful housework whenever he was around company who could be in want of a wife. Blonde of hair, long of tooth. Traven always compared her to Rosette, his father’s pale mare. She would be a good match for a horse lord, no doubt about that.

“… I’m glad you’re entertained by this.”

“You know as well as I do that she is only after the Silverkin name. She dreams of wearing titles, not just fancy dresses.” And I dream of her wearing tack. The perfect bride to befit a bridle. “She thinks nothing more of me.”

“She thinks enough of you to bring over a cobbler the moment she smells this pie cooking. Cathlyn is wholly predictable.”

“That savors of jealousy, Mina.”

“Well, it’s true. And you always eat whatever she brings you.”

“I have no reason to turn down free food.” Traven sliced the final peach and mimicked her tone, “And I always share.”

“Maybe she’s trying to fatten you up for husbandry. You did seem a bit thick when I wrapped you this morning.”

“Okay, okay,” Traven shoved the cutting board full of peach chunks toward Mina. “I’ll turn down anything she tries to give me from now on. She always claims it’s for Belros anyway, so I don’t see what you’re riled up about.”

Mina reached for a bowl and threw the chunks of fruit into it. “Women have their ways, their reasons.” She added sweet spices and cinnamon, then mixed the peaches with her hands. “You are also feeding into her plan by accepting food. She thinks you will be drawn to her cooking, if nothing else.” She dumped the contents of the bowl into the pie pan and then went to the basin to wash the stickiness from her hands.

“Is that why you’re making this pie for me?”

Mina rolled her eyes and dried her hands on her apron. “No, it’s for Rhea’s birthday. Of course her son remembered it’s tomorrow, didn’t he?”

Traven put his peachy hand to his forehead, resting his elbow on the tabletop. “No. No, I did not. And I was just in town yesterday.”

“Perhaps we should take a trip back in. I can check the market for something to cover these marks.”

“So it’s decided. Riding with our wounds will be fun.” He stood and rinsed his hands off in the basin. “I’ll tell my mother that we’re getting meat. It’s too bad we couldn’t bring that buck back.”

“Just what I needed to carry: more bleeding meat.” Mina snickered while she rolled out the remaining dough for the top of the pie.

Traven sighed at her jab. “At least we know they may come around Old Ginleux. I think I’ll tell father I saw one while hawking so he can check around the clearing during patrol. The kids could use a little surprise supervision while they’re playing around anyway. Not sure if you saw that they knocked down another hearth.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“We never did things like that when we were younger.” Traven walked toward the common room, then leaned against the frame of the walkway. “We just played Kings and Castles.”

“I remember. Owen would always claim me and Cathlyn you.”

Traven chuckled and shook his head, “Always. I’m going to change and saddle our horses.”

“Okay. I’ll be along soon.”

He turned from the common room breezeway. “Mina …”

She looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“… I’ll make an effort to stay nearby. I don’t want to leave you on your own. With the inspectors becoming bolder, the marks ….” He shook his head. “We leave together when the time comes.”

“As you like it, Sir Traven.”

He forced a half smile and retreated to his room.