Chapter Seven
Walk, they did. But not far. They halted at the bridge that crossed the River Dapple. Ren rested his forearms on the sturdy stone wall and looked down at the dark water. “Will you go back to York?” he asked quietly.
Maythorn’s sense of ease faltered. “York is . . .” Not my home any longer. It hadn’t been her home for many years. “York is crowded and noisy and dirty. I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here.” The people she loved most in the world were here. Ivy and Hazel and Larkspur. Ren and Gavain. She looked away from Ren and traced the groove between one block of stone and the next with a fingertip. No more questions, please. I don’t want to lie to you.
Fabric rustled against stone as Ren straightened and turned to face her. “Maythorn . . .” His voice told her he w
