restraint. “I care about more than I should. I
even care about you.”
Another wrong thing to say.
Manon stood—as high as the tent would
allow. “Then you’re a fool.” She shoved on
her boots and stomped into the frigid night.
I even care about you.
Manon scowled as she turned in her sleep,
wedged between Asterin and Sorrel. Only
hours remained until they were to move out—
to head to Eyllwe and whatever force might be
waiting to ally with the Crochans. And in need
of help.
Caring doesn’t make you weak.
The king was a fool. Little more than a
boy. What did he know of anything?
Still the words burrowed under her skin,
her bones. Is it so bad, to care?
She didn’t know. Didn’t want to know.