Free Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) by Amy Rose Davis

thought.” He gestured to one of the two packs in the cave. “There’s a change of clothes in there.” He brushed her hair off her shoulders. “Put your hair up, too. It’ll get in the way like that.”
    She touched her hair. “It’s a sin—”
    “Putting your hair up is a sin?”
    Her face grew warm. “We were taught it makes us look like the women of the city—the ones who seek a man for—” She stopped. “Can’t I just braid it?”
    “Braided hair isn’t a sin?”
    “Not in service to Alshada. I think this counts.”
    “If you can manage with that hand.” He stood. “I’ll wait over there.”
    Mairead changed into the woolen breeches, linen tunic, and leather boots she found in the pack. She folded the wool dress, wrapping the stiff shoes into it. A pang of loss passed through her as she thought of Saya Hana, Sayana Muriel, and the women who left the sayada to distract Braedan. “Alshada, help me be strong,” she whispered. She tried to braid her hair, but the cut made the exercise cumbersome and difficult. She brushed her hair out with her fingers.
    As she stepped out of the cave, she took a deep breath of the fresh salt air and blinked to adjust her vision. Smoke hovered above Torlach.
    “Braedan burned the sayada sometime last night,” Connor said.
    Mairead swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. You are royalty. Tears are for others. You must be strong. “I need a few minutes. I need to say morning prayers.”
    He blinked. “You’re joking, right?”
    “No—why?”
    The sea spray wet her face as she waited for him to answer. “I’ll wait over there,” he said, pointing to a nearby rock.
    Mairead knelt, lowered her head, and folded her hands. She recited memorized words: “Alshada, give me wisdom. Open my ears to hear your voice. Open my eyes to see your ways. Open my heart to understand and obey you. I pray for safety and wisdom, and I pray that we would show your love to those we encounter. Please guard our steps today. So be it.” Her voice broke near the end, and she realized it was the first morning prayer she could remember without Sayana Muriel’s voice leading and a chorus of female voices, young and old, speaking together. She squeezed her eyes and shook her head. The sayada—burned. What about the women? Muriel? She put her folded hands to her forehead and lowered her face to the ground. Alshada, please protect them. In a few moments, she stood and turned back to Connor.
    He gave her a small piece of jerky. “Breakfast. I have some hard tack, too. Why didn’t you braid your hair?”
    “I couldn’t—my hand—”
    “Do you want me to do it?”
    “You?”
    “I’m a tribesman. Braids are easy.”
    “I thought you were Sidh.”
    “Can’t I be both?”
    She touched her hair. “I shouldn’t let a man—”
    “As you wish.” He dug through his pack and pulled out a leather strip. “Tie it back with this.”
    She pulled her hair into a mass with the strip, fighting the ache in her hand, while he turned back to the cave and busied himself with packing her blanket. When he finished, he lifted his pack onto his shoulders and helped her put on the smaller one. As he tested the straps and the weight, she caught his eye. “Something amiss, saya?” he asked.
    She shook her head. I can’t tell him he puts me off-balance. He’ll think I’m an idiot. “Which way are we going?”
    He pointed at a narrow animal trail. “That path leads to level ground.”
    Mairead kept a short distance between them and watched Connor’s feet, stepping where he stepped. His lithe stride surprised her. He made less noise than she did as he walked, and he had no trouble balancing himself while she had to steady herself several times. “How did you know about that cave and the trail?” she asked.
    “My work.”
    “What kind of work is that?”
    “I’m a freelance.” He didn’t slow or look back.
    “Do you often need to hide fleeing royalty in caves?”
    He chuckled. “No.