he’d fallen asleep, allowing her to sneak the victim outside the castle for better protection.
Yes, this had been a questionable action on her part, but at the time, it seemed her only possible course.
Pavel had been reprimanded, and afterward, in his anger, he’d cornered Céline inside a shack and terrified her. Later he regretted this, but it didn’t matter. She no longer trusted him. Though he kept this dark side of himself hidden away much of the time, she had seen it.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” he asked. “Are you so angry that you won’t even talk?”
Glancing up the slope, she became very aware that they were alone. She wasn’t remotely angry. She was afraid of him. “I need to get back to Amelie.”
She tried to walk past, but his right hand snaked out, grabbing her wrist. Before she realized what was happening, he had her back pressed up against a tree. She gasped, instinctively pushing against his chest. He didn’t seem to notice she was struggling.
“Are you punishing me?” he whispered in her ear. “You know I’m sorry about . . . about before, but you played with me, tricked me, made me look a fool to the lieutenant.” He raised his left hand and touched her cheek. “That’s all done now.”
Her mind raced for a way to stay calm and get herself free, but when he moved his hand down her face, toward her throat, she couldn’t help trying to cry out.
“Amel—”
Instantly, his hand was over her mouth, and his eyes flashed in anger. “You’re going to stay here and talk to me! Tell me what I have to do to make you forgive me, to stop punishing me.”
She couldn’t move in his grip, and she was struggling to breathe though her nose. Somehow, she got one hand up around his wrist, trying to pull it off her mouth.
“Pavel, please,” she tried saying into his palm, but the sound was muffled.
“Corporal!” a deep voice barked.
Pavel’s body jerked. His grip eased slightly, and Céline managed to look to the left. Jaromir stood there with moonlight washing over his face.
“Step away,” he ordered.
For only a second or two, Céline thought Pavel was going to refuse, which would mean he was more unhinged than even she’d realized. Jaromir’s men didn’t disobey his orders.
But with a sharp jerk, Pavel stepped backward, glaring at her as if she’d caused this.
“Céline, get up to camp,” Jaromir said.
This was embarrassing for all of them, but she didn’t need to be asked twice. Dashing past Jaromir, she ran up the slope, hearing his low voice behind her, followed by Pavel’s short, clipped replies.
Though she was glad Jaromir had come down to check on her, a part of her couldn’t help regretting what he’d seen. While she certainly didn’t blame herself for Pavel’s behavior, she also couldn’t help feeling that because of her, there was now a rift between two soldiers who needed to depend on each other.
Walking back into camp, she tried to appear calm—and apparently failed.
“What’s wrong?” Amelie asked.
“Nothing.”
She would say no more.
* * *
Though Amelie expected the following day to be less rife with tension . . . it wasn’t. Jaromir once again treated her in the same easygoing manner as before their misunderstanding—which made her both glad and mildly annoyed—but something else felt wrong, and now he and Pavel seemed to be avoiding each other.
No matter how much Céline denied it,
something
had happened the night before, and Amelie was hurt that Céline wouldn’t tell her. The sisters had never kept secrets from each other.
However, as the day progressed, Amelie’s sore backside took precedence over all other concerns, and she began to focus on just making it to dusk.
The forest around them continued to grow darker and denser. The path they traveled, which barely passed for a road, became so narrow that the entire party began riding single file, and Sergeant Bazin, who drove the wagon, was having difficulty as brush
Yes, this had been a questionable action on her part, but at the time, it seemed her only possible course.
Pavel had been reprimanded, and afterward, in his anger, he’d cornered Céline inside a shack and terrified her. Later he regretted this, but it didn’t matter. She no longer trusted him. Though he kept this dark side of himself hidden away much of the time, she had seen it.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” he asked. “Are you so angry that you won’t even talk?”
Glancing up the slope, she became very aware that they were alone. She wasn’t remotely angry. She was afraid of him. “I need to get back to Amelie.”
She tried to walk past, but his right hand snaked out, grabbing her wrist. Before she realized what was happening, he had her back pressed up against a tree. She gasped, instinctively pushing against his chest. He didn’t seem to notice she was struggling.
“Are you punishing me?” he whispered in her ear. “You know I’m sorry about . . . about before, but you played with me, tricked me, made me look a fool to the lieutenant.” He raised his left hand and touched her cheek. “That’s all done now.”
Her mind raced for a way to stay calm and get herself free, but when he moved his hand down her face, toward her throat, she couldn’t help trying to cry out.
“Amel—”
Instantly, his hand was over her mouth, and his eyes flashed in anger. “You’re going to stay here and talk to me! Tell me what I have to do to make you forgive me, to stop punishing me.”
She couldn’t move in his grip, and she was struggling to breathe though her nose. Somehow, she got one hand up around his wrist, trying to pull it off her mouth.
“Pavel, please,” she tried saying into his palm, but the sound was muffled.
“Corporal!” a deep voice barked.
Pavel’s body jerked. His grip eased slightly, and Céline managed to look to the left. Jaromir stood there with moonlight washing over his face.
“Step away,” he ordered.
For only a second or two, Céline thought Pavel was going to refuse, which would mean he was more unhinged than even she’d realized. Jaromir’s men didn’t disobey his orders.
But with a sharp jerk, Pavel stepped backward, glaring at her as if she’d caused this.
“Céline, get up to camp,” Jaromir said.
This was embarrassing for all of them, but she didn’t need to be asked twice. Dashing past Jaromir, she ran up the slope, hearing his low voice behind her, followed by Pavel’s short, clipped replies.
Though she was glad Jaromir had come down to check on her, a part of her couldn’t help regretting what he’d seen. While she certainly didn’t blame herself for Pavel’s behavior, she also couldn’t help feeling that because of her, there was now a rift between two soldiers who needed to depend on each other.
Walking back into camp, she tried to appear calm—and apparently failed.
“What’s wrong?” Amelie asked.
“Nothing.”
She would say no more.
* * *
Though Amelie expected the following day to be less rife with tension . . . it wasn’t. Jaromir once again treated her in the same easygoing manner as before their misunderstanding—which made her both glad and mildly annoyed—but something else felt wrong, and now he and Pavel seemed to be avoiding each other.
No matter how much Céline denied it,
something
had happened the night before, and Amelie was hurt that Céline wouldn’t tell her. The sisters had never kept secrets from each other.
However, as the day progressed, Amelie’s sore backside took precedence over all other concerns, and she began to focus on just making it to dusk.
The forest around them continued to grow darker and denser. The path they traveled, which barely passed for a road, became so narrow that the entire party began riding single file, and Sergeant Bazin, who drove the wagon, was having difficulty as brush
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