Damask & Deception (Spellbound #2)

Chapter 8: Breakout

The closer they got to her family's estate, the more Rhiannon's skin crawled. A decade had passed, but the surroundings had barely changed and she was recognising landmarks. Seeing her parents again after all this time was not something she looked forward to. They hadn't exactly parted on good terms. If fleeing counted as parting. She'd run away, never to look back. And yet, here she was. About to return home.

Home. Such a useless word. It was meant to be somewhere you felt safe. Loved. She'd never felt at home anywhere. Always the odd one out. When she was younger, she may have wished for that elusive 'home', but by now she had given up on ever finding it. It wasn't for her.

"We should reach the Delen estate tomorrow." Sir Baudwin smiled next to her on the perch. For a moment she'd almost forgotten his existence, lost in her thoughts.

"Great." It was far from great, but at least she could look her parents in their eyes and tell them never to come looking for her again. This time she would disappear for good.

Sir Baudwin was watching her with a contemplative look and she stared straight ahead, worried he might see something in her eyes. She hadn't realised they were quite this close to her family estate, and suddenly panic was welling up from the depths of her very being. Feelings she'd clamped down for years were threatening to erupt from the pits where she'd buried them. 

I'm not a weak girl anymore. I don't care what they say. I don't care what they do. They can hurt me no more.

"You look like you're about to face the gaol, not your parents," Sir Baudwin commented, his voice careful as if he was treading lightly for fear of spooking her.

"Not much difference," she muttered, her voice as tight as her body felt. Knowing she would see them again tomorrow, every muscle had contracted and the scars on her back ached dully.

"I'll stay with you. If you want."

The soft words made her turn around to stare at the knight. His hazel eyes were watching her with an understanding she wasn't sure he had, but it made her eyes burn and she blinked rapidly to stave off any embarrassing tears. The Swamp Witch didn't cry.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know your history, but it's clear you don't want to see them. In a way, it's my fault you are. If you want a friendly face, I'm happy to stay."

Averting her gaze, she nodded. "Thank you."

"Family is hard." He didn't elaborate, but she appreciated the sentiment, even if she doubted he realised quite how hard they could be.

Keeping her eyes on the landscape passing them, she put her hand on his, holding the reins. Saying nothing, he shifted the reins to his other hand and grabbed her hand. Not tightly, she could easily pull back if she wanted to, but she enjoyed the feel of his warm hand enveloping hers. It felt safe. She didn't believe in feeling safe, but she allowed herself a moment of indulgence.

The tension was slowly leaving her shoulders, not fully, but enough to stop the dull ache so she could relax her posture. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"My stepfather and I never got along." She wasn't entirely sure why she was telling him, but it felt remarkably good to say the words out loud. And soon she would never see him again. "Our hostility culminated when he wanted to marry me off to one of his friends. A lord more than twice my age. I didn't want to. So I ran away."

"And you've been on your own since?"

Ignoring the question, she continued, "My stepfather wouldn't have it. They chased me down. A full hunting party, chasing me through the woods. The lord was the first to find me and he—" She choked as the memory of fingers digging into her flesh, tearing at her clothes burst forth. The foul stench of his breath close to her face. The pressure of Sir Baudwin's hand on hers brought her back, and she swallowed the knot in her throat.