Chapter 229: Our Weapon
Rhistel’s jaw clenched at her bitter words, and without another word, he spurred the horse forward. The animal responded with a snort and a gallop that sent jolts up his healing wounds, but he didn’t flinch. The witch behind him gripped his waist tightly to stay steady.
"You call her a traitor," Rhistel said in a low but sharp voice, "But did you see it with your own eyes?"
The question struck her like a slap. The witch stiffened behind him. For a few seconds, the wind rushing past them was the only sound.
"No," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible. "I am only twenty. I wasn’t even born when the ritual was done. But I’ve heard the stories. The elder sisters told us everything."
"And you believed it?" he asked with eyes fixed on the horizon, but his tone cut deep. "Without ever questioning if they told you the truth?"
"The elders wouldn’t lie to us," she snapped defensively, but there was hesitation now, "They were there and they saw it. They said Oriana’s mother refused her destiny. That she ran away after being blessed. That she turned her back on our suffering, on all of us."
Rhistel’s grip tightened on the reins. "Maybe she didn’t run. Maybe she saw something you haven’t yet. Something they kept from you."
The witch was silent, breathing uneven. Her fingers dug slightly into his side as she held on tighter not out of fear of falling, but to ground herself against the twisting in her chest.
"You are trying to sow discord!" she finally snapped. "If not for the shawl, I would have killed you already."