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She laughs. “None of us do. Although it may be because they’re complete idiots who can’t pull their heads out of their asses enough to make well-thought-out decisions.”
Now I’m laughing too. “Is that what it is?”
Her gaze catches mine. “Most men spend their time focused on their little brain instead of their big brain?”
“Little brain?”
She lifts a brow. “Their dicks.”
“Oh.” I smile, not completely understanding.
“It’s one of the reasons I’m so excited that my parents are letting me travel before settling down. I know all the men around here, and they’re only interested in one thing.”
Probably playing with their swords.
But then I realize what she’s said. “You’re leaving?” I ask, selfishly worried about losing her.
She squeezes my arm. “Yes. I’ll be leaving in a few days’ time.”
I’m shocked. “I had no idea.”
She shrugs. “I didn’t either. I’ve been begging my father to allow me to travel for years, but it was only this week that I received word that he was creating an entourage and would be coming to get me. He has made it a requirement that I travel with a big group of shifter guards, but I don’t care. I’m just glad to go.”
“Well, I’ll miss you,” I tell her honestly.
“I will miss you too, but maybe by the time I’m back there will be a tiny shifter on its way.”
My heart squeezes. Not if my husbands won’t touch me. “Maybe.”
We come to the edge of town, and I see guards standing around outside a huge church. I frown, seeing the people hurrying in and out. “What’s that all about?”
She frowns. “That’s where they’re quarantining the sick. With the young contracting it, they wanted to have the healthy separated.”
I imagine all the sick gathered in one place, and my stomach flips. Being at home, with their families, would be so much better for their spirits, but I understand why this is a logical decision. It all feels wrong though. These people should be getting better, not sicker.
There needs to be a cure. I need to be able to find it.
Pressure settles on my shoulders like a heavy weight, making it hard to breathe. Lady Scarlet steers me to a little shop and picks out some produce with leisure, seemingly unaware of the turbulent feelings inside me. As she goes to leave, she rips her sleeve on the sharp edge of the table.
She frowns down at the tear, then lifts it and smiles. “Can you fix it?”
She and the shop woman are staring at me.
That familiar pressure comes again. “Fix,” I whisper.
Nothing happens.
Both the women stare at me.
“Fix,” I say again.
But nothing happens.
I give a small smile. “I’m a bit tired.”
Lady Scarlet returns my smile, not at all bothered by my failure. “Don’t worry about it. My seamstress won’t mind.” She links her arm back with mine. “Let’s head back to the castle. Your husbands will be waiting.”
Yeah, waiting to threaten me more about finding the cure.
