"Erthë."

The tone of his voice brought her to an abrupt halt, shocked by the way he said her name. She had heard it before of course, when he spoke to the herd and when he issued orders, and just recently when they dealt with the Bramble. But never, never had the king commanded her before, and the girl had no idea how to respond. The initial reaction was to shrug it off as a joke. What, was he playing games with her? What did he mean by ordering her around like that, who did he think he was? As close as they were - and how close was that, really? - he was not actually her parent and no words of obligation or supplication had ever been exchanged.

But then there was that fact that she was a member of the herd. His herd, as he was the King. And shouldn't the monarch have the right to know about the health of his subjects?

She wasn't ranked though.

Did it matter? They were friends, right? Almost family.

No they were family!

So she should tell him.

But...

"I..."

The words caught in her throat, lodged on the back of the tongue. As immovable as any mountain. Erthë opened her mouth but no sound came out, and the turmoil of emotion in her chest smarted almost as bad as her leg. There was a tremble to her knees, so faint it wasn't visible but she could feel it, the tremble and the slight throb behind her eyes. They were signs she knew well, a warning that he effects of the drug was wearing off. She really ought to hurry home, ought to seek out the secret spot in her clearing and...

But Tembovu was standing behind her, and his eyes on her was like needles piercing her skin. Sharp and heavy, she imagined a crease of anger on his brow and a backward tilt to the ears that must shurely be there. And if she told him? Would it not deepen into shock, into horror and then... contempt. Because it was a cowardly way to handle the pain, wasn't it? Instead of sucking it up and taking the throw her actions had dealt her, she was relying on herbs and acting as though she had something to be proud of. Like she wasn't guilty, as though it wasn't really her fault she was damaged and alone, and...

No!

No.

She didn't want to see that kind of expression on his face. Not his face, already so burdened by his own troubles and the weight of the crown. Erthë wouldn't place her own stone on that load, what point was there in weighing down others with her problems?

"I said it's fine" she replied, but there was a note of impatience within the soft voice now, one she regretted as soon as it slid from her lips. She drew breath to apologize, to add something else, to explain... but there was really nothing else she could say, so without looking at Tembovu, without glancing back she started forward again.

Hoping he would give up. Wishing he would catch up, change the topic, turn this voyage into a pleasant time.

Anything.

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking