Chapter 5: Bitter Honey

Anders walked Linnea home himself, with the basket on one arm and her hand on the other.

He was gone an hour.

I spent it on the tower platform watching the dark road and eating one of her buns, because it was a good bun and I was hungry.

When he came back up the steps, the cold had put red along his cheekbones.

He didn't say a word until he'd checked the road in both directions.

Then he stood in front of me.

"I need you to listen," he said. "I'm not asking you to forgive anything. I'm asking you to hear it."

"I'm listening."

"The Council sits at dawn, and the elders will ask me what my Luna meant by it. I have nothing to tell them."

"Anders."

"My uncle has already asked the elders to start counting my days out loud." His voice dropped. "Do you know what that costs me?"

"I know exactly what it costs you."

"Then tell me why you did it."

I looked at his face, at the old claw scar through his eyebrow and the tight line of his mouth.

He wasn't angry, not really.

He was hurt, and it was the hurt of a man who had never had a reason to expect it.

"I'll tell you when you can hear it," I said.

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."

"You shamed me, Marit, in front of everyone I'm meant to lead. And you won't say why."

"No."

"Then what am I supposed to do with that?"

I picked up the thermos Linnea had left on the bench and screwed on the lid.

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