Elara’s POV
I want to ask him about it, but every time I glance at his profile, I remember how he likes to needle me. He’d probably just make some cutting comment about my overactive imagination or tell me I was delirious from fever. The thought of his condescending expression makes my jaw clench.
“Jerk,” I mutter under my breath, kicking at a fallen branch.
“What was that?”
I keep my eyes straight ahead.
“Nothing.”
“Did you just call me a jerk?”
His voice carries that edge I’m starting to recognize.
“No.”
I adjust my grip on my walking stick, though I barely need it anymore.
“You must be hearing things.”
He stops walking, and I realize I’ve made a tactical error. When I turn to face him, his blue eyes flash with irritation and insult.
“Hearing things?” he repeats slowly.
“We
