Free Winter Queen by Amber Argyle

me something besides cured meat.” The other men laughed.
    Her hands itched to take her knife from his belt. His gaze dared her to do so. She took a shuddering breath. He didn’t have to behave like this. She’d treated Otrok as a brother, and now the boy was dead. Tears blurring her vision, she held out the onions.
    Darrien jerked them from her, peeled off the outside layer, popped one in his mouth, and wiped the juice from his lips. At the sound of his crunching, Ilyenna remembered the fresh, mild taste and her stomach growled all the louder.
    Darrien grinned and strode a little closer. His breath, heavy with onions, blew against her face. She held perfectly still as his fingers combed through her hair again. It was indecent having her hair down like this, but she hadn’t had the time to braid it yet.
    “For these onions, will you sell but one smile, Ilyenna?” he said.
    She fought to keep her eyes from darting to the bulbs dangling from his hand. A smile today, a kiss tomorrow. Where would it end? No, better she never begin to play his games. Obedience. Honor. She kept her voice steady. “Every onion I find, I will deliver to you.”
    He grunted as he popped another in his mouth. With a jerk of his head, he motioned for the others to mount. He walked to his own horse, and Ilyenna followed. But after Darrien got on the gelding, his leg didn’t move from the stirrup “My horse is tired. You’ll have to run in front of us until he’s recovered.”
    She stepped back from the saddle, fists clenched at her sides. He’d made himself clear. She was playing the game whether she wished to or not. She began running. Laughter followed her. By the time the sun extinguished itself on the mountains, her lungs were on fire and her legs had no more strength to bear her up than rotted wood. She tried to concentrate on one more step. Just one. She stumbled and fell to her knees. She was vaguely aware of the rocks scraping her palms, of the mud soaking through her dress. More than anything, her whole body ached to stay put. She struggled to haul her feet under her. Her legs buckled, and she went down again.
    Someone gripped the collar of her dress and hauled her backwards. The fabric cut into her throat. She choked, her hands clawing at the collar. Darrien yanked her into his saddle, settling her in front of him. Both arms went around her.
    Her mind wanted to fight, but she was so tired. She slumped forward. Soon, the rhythmic motion of the saddle began to lull her. Night was coming on, and she’d had so little sleep over the last week. Her eyelids closed and she felt herself leaning into Darrien’s arms.
    The next morning, she saw the first of the Tyran fields. Here, in the lowlands, green feathers of wheat were already poking through the damp earth. The snow had melted in all but the darkest shadows. Winter was fast becoming a memory. The air hung heavy with the smells of mud and the ripe decay of last year’s leaves.
    Ilyenna wasn’t a winter queen anymore. She wasn’t even a clan mistress. She was one small step above a slave. Tears stung her eyes. She tried to focus on something, anything, to take her mind off the arms around her.
    With the fields came the familiar river-stone houses with split-shingle roofs. The houses grew in size and frequency the closer they came to the heart of Tyran lands. Darrien leaned forward and whispered, “I have a conundrum, little one. You see, you killed my brother, and for that I want to make you suffer. Yet, by killing him, you’ve moved me into his place—a place of power. For that, I’m grateful. Nor can I forget your own power to heal yourself. I must admit it fascinates me. Yet you stand helpless before me. Perhaps it’s time we tested that power.”
    Ilyenna leaned away from him. “I don’t have any power.”
    He went on as if she hadn’t said anything. “You see my difficulty? But yesterday, I realized all of it could be solved in the same way.” Darrien licked his lips as