Even though Théadan said he was fine, even going so far as to repeat it and point out how they’d only dragged him to the floor, Navia wasn’t sure she believed him. She pursed her lips together while she looked up at him, torn in what she could do to help. She wanted to comfort him, but there was no sign from him that he necessarily wanted that from her. He was even removing her hand from his face so he could step past her and into the stall with the horses. Sighing, Navia crossed her arm over her middle, her hand resting over her opposite elbow while her near-black eyes followed her clearly troubled lover. Would he really be fine once they left the town they were in? she wondered. Or was it going to grow worse? Could it become bad enough that he might regret leaving Mes’Mo’Tan for her? No, they dedicated to each other; he had decided they should go to Khlurios when their relationship had been at its most broken. They were stronger than the naysayers in Khlurios.<br/><br/>Still, her heart ached for him while Théadan grimaced and apologized for not being able to protect her from one man’s arrogant ways. It had felt awful at the time, and she had been infuriated the man had thought her below him so much he could handle her as he pleased, but she did not think he needed to be apologizing. “You had four men coming after you,” Navia pointed out quietly, expression mournful while she stood on the other side of the stable door, “You can’t apologize when so many people were out to harm you.” Navia saw no point in it; she couldn’t have expected Théadan somehow juggle the man trying to hurt her and the group of men after him. “Besides, it’s not like he really hurt me,” Navia shrugged, trying to play off what had happened, “It was just a…” It was too hard to say the kiss hadn’t meant anything though, and Navia shook her head, gaze diverting to study the horses.<br/><br/>It wasn’t that the man had kissed her. It was that he had assumed an intimacy that belonged to no one but Théadan. The man had forced it, taking away the security and assurance she’d had knowing she was safe if Théadan was nearby. “I hate that he did that,” Navia admitted, stepping into the stall with him and the horses to help him tack up their companions. The sooner they left Puri, the better, which meant they should work quickly to prepare their horses. “That kiss was not to upset me. He just knew it would anger you and if there were enough men attacking you, you wouldn’t be able to do anything to help.” She had mostly been a means to an end for the man, relieving the lust in his eyes would have a bonus if he’d been able to follow through.<br/><br/>“And it won’t be like this in Mandira,<i>kamin</i>,” Navia hoped Théadan believed her and looked imploringly at him in hopes it would help convince him. She paused to heave Vari’s saddle on the horse’s back and set up the straps under Vari’s belly. It took a few moments of silence, but Navia was soon looking at Théadan over the horses’ backs again. “People will know me there,” she pointed out, “I don’t care what people think about us being together, but I do care if they decide to confront us over it and I just don’t think that will happen in Mandira. Even if it were to, the nearest city guards would assist us. We won’t be alone there. And I promise you, no one there will dare think to touch me the way that man decided he could.” No one ever had before, after all. “We just need to put this awful town behind us and set our sights on Mandira,” Navia paused again, moving around to Vari’s face to add the horse’s bridle. Mischief alight on her features, Navia smirked over at Théadan, hoping to raise his spirits even a little, “Do I need to spend another evening reminding you that no matter how others try to prove otherwise, we most certainly belong together?”