Wind Over Bone: The Estralony Cycle #2 (Young Adult Fantasy Romance) by E. D. Ebeling Page B

dimples and big teeth, and red leaves in his stupid hair. The light fell over this and made it glow, and his stupid eyes said, Too late for you, Bones. You jumped. He looked at his chest. “Goodness. I’ll have a bruise there, I expect.”
    She pushed her elbows into his chest. “Why are you still talking?”
    “Because you’re ridiculous, aren’t you––”
    She finally stopped his mouth.
     
    ***
     
    Perhaps it was the coriander, or perhaps it was Vanli Pash, who, though not as pleasant as the coriander, did have something to do with it. Sarid and Rischa were thinning the herbs in her garden, kneeling in the mud, when Vanli rode by on his red horse.
    “The blonde vixen is brewing a potion,” he called. “Be wary, my lord. Coriander is a dangerous herb in the hands of a wicked woman.”
    Sarid had been baited before by Vanli, but not in front of Rischa. Cheeks hot, she looked at her hands in the dirt. Rischa stood up. “Move off,” he said. “Your horse is standing on the purslane.”
    “She has you groveling in the mud already? A fitting start. She is driving your brother madder, you know, sticking her claws in his head and mixing it up like one of her brews.” Vanli brought his horse closer and leaned toward Rischa. “She plans to ensnare you and become Ravinya, I’m sure.” He straightened and shrugged. “But then Savvel schemed his way into being the heir-presumptive. It’s only fitting that he be schemed out of it.” He nodded at Sarid. “I’m only relieved you’ve given up on Charevost, Lady Hyeda. I wouldn’t want you setting your demon father on my children.”
    Rischa threw a clod of mud at Vanli and knocked his hat off.
    “All right,” said Vanli. “I’ll stop bruising the purslane. Have a care for the boy, Sarid. He’s in a temper.” Vanli turned and rode down the hill.
    “ He’s left his hat,” said Rischa. “Shall I piss on it?” She turned her head away. Too late he saw she was crying. “Ah, Bones, he’s a fool. Don’t listen to him.” He knelt next to her and wiped her face with his collar. “I’ll thrash him if you like.” She laughed, imagining skinny Rischa trying to thrash Vanli the blond bear. “I’ll cut off his tongue and give it to you for a toe rag.” He ran a hand through her hair. “Oh dear,” he said after a moment. “I’ve got my ring stuck.”
    He lifted her up, his hand tangled in her hair, and she could feel him laughing. “I’m completely caught. Let’s go over here––the light’s brighter.”
    He led her behind a mass of willow suckers, down into a divot in the lawn. His hair was dark, and his eyes had gone amber. The light had definitely not got brighter. A coriander sprout stuck to his forearm.
    They sat down very close together and he worked his fingers through her hair. “There,” he said.
    She was hungry––not in the usual way. “You’re lying.”
    “ About what?”
    She wiped the mud off his face. He started laughing.
    “Am I filthy?”
    “ Only your clothes.”
    She untied his shirt. They helped each other with buttons and fastenings, and lay naked on their cloaks, skins prickling in the breeze.
    He took her feet in his hands and traced his fingers up, and her skin responded pleasantly. He was careful, but it hurt, and felt so strange. As though someone had reached inside her and changed everything around.
    “ It gets better,” he said.
    She coiled his damp hair round her finger. “You haven’t got a ring.”
     
    ***
     
    There were complications, of course. A day later, as they shoved a little red boat off the lakeshore landing so they might have a moment alone, Yoffin came running up, wearing only a long undershirt. He splashed into the lake up to his waist. “What was it? What was it I came––Oh, yes! Your brother needs administering to, sir. He’s in the shoals and not yet sunk. Trust me, I knows what it looks like before he sinks and this is it, sure enough.”
    Rischa dropped his oar. “Ayevur damn his