12
The Apology
“Amlinn!” Petra called. He couldn’t believe he’d lashed out at her like that. He didn’t understand why. Vekrin knew he liked her. He liked her a lot. And, yes, he needed a friend, and he wanted her to be that friend.
But her grandfather had just told him he was still a prisoner. It had clearly angered him more than he’d realized. He stared at Amlinn’s stiff, retreating back. What have I done?
For the rest of the day, he rode glumly on the seat of the same wagon in whose dark interior he had spent the previous day bound and gagged. He barely exchanged two words with the driver, Witten, as they crawled northward through the endless forest. At lunch, he ate alone, chewing sausage and bread and watching Amlinn out of the corner of his eye. She sat with a young man Witten tol
