Jae left his place by the hearth to waddle over toward the bed and gave a quick flap of his leathery wings to land on the foot of it. Satisfied, he curled up at her feet. Tris's dogs padded over as well, and the gray wolfhound nudged at her hand, insisting to be petted, while the other two lay down on either side of the bed.
"What about the lodge?" Kiara asked. "Tris took me there after the wedding. It's not fancy, but it was built for winter hunts, so it's warm enough. Crevan kept it well provisioned, and it's large enough for us all to stay. There's a guardhouse, so Ammond and Hothan can still watch over us. After today, they're the only ones I'd trust."
"We're not going anywhere until tomorrow," Cerise said firmly. "I want to make sure that you're all right. And riding there on horseback is out of the question for you. Even a carriage ride could be too rough-I don't like moving you."
Kiara squeezed Cerise's hand. "I'm tougher than I look. I feel much better. And if the pains are brought on by worry, then it should be better moving me away from Shekerishet, at least for a little while."
"We can send for a sleigh," Alle suggested. "And a sledge for our provisions. The dogs and Jae can come with us. Kiara's right-the lodge is smaller, and there will be fewer people to worry about. I'll choose the servants myself that go with us-two or three should suffice, so long as one of them is a good cook!"
"If we can move you without danger, then I'm all for putting some distance between us and Shekerishet, at least for a while," Cerise relented.
"I'll go find Crevan and start the preparations," Alle said, standing up and smoothing her skirts. "We'll keep it as quiet as we can, and perhaps we'll throw the troublemakers off the scent."
"I saw the look on Crevan's face when you pegged the guard who shoved Kiara," Cerise observed wryly. "You may want to approach him with both hands in view, so as not to make his
heart fail!"
"I know you'll have to make some preparations," Kiara said, looking pointedly at Macaria. "Cerise and Alle and I will be fine if you to want take leave until tomorrow morning." Macaria nodded, taking Kiara's intent clearly. "Thank you, m'lady. I would be grateful." She headed for the door when Kiara called after her.
"Be careful, Macaria. It's clear we still don't know all the players in this game." "Aye, m'lady. I'll take care."
Alone in his room at the Dragon's Rage Inn, Carroway pushed aside his half-eaten dinner. The innkeeper, out of long friendship, sent up a full meal. It was plain but filling tavern fare-far better, Carroway knew, than he might hope for had Crevan confined him in a cell beneath Shekerishet. Outside, the winter wind banged against the shutters, howling beneath the eaves. He sipped at his brandy and took up the lute he had laid aside. Since his confinement, there was little to pass the time except for card games and his music. For the first time since his miserable early days as a fosterling at court long ago, Carroway played until his fingers bled. But the solace he usually found in the music did not come. It was better when Paiva, Halik, Bandele and Tadghe came by. Alone, the time passed slowly.
He hadn't seen Macaria since the day Crevan had pronounced banishment. Carroway felt her absence most keenly. While he'd accepted the fact that he was in love with Macaria, he knew that as her patron, he couldn't act on his feelings. The memory of what Lady Nadine had done still hurt too much for him to ever misuse his own power. And yet, he suspected that Macaria actually loved him. He'd been planning to ask Eadoin if she would become Macaria's patron. Such a change would have removed the barriers, making it acceptable for him to woo Macaria openly. Banishment changed all of that.
Carroway stood as he heard the knob turn. His hand fell to the throwing daggers hidden beneath the sleeve of his tunic, daggers the guards had failed to find in the lining of his trunk when they brought his things from the palace. To his relief, Macaria slipped into the room, gesturing for him to close the shutters as she lowered her cowl. She shook off the snow and stamped her feet.
"It's a bad night to be about," Carroway said, knowing his pleasure in seeing her was clear in his face. "But I'll never turn down the company." One look at Macaria's distraught expression, and he sobered quickly. "What's wrong?"
He listened intently as Macaria's story tumbled out. When she finished, Carroway stood, running his hand back through his long hair and pacing in front of the fire. "So I came a hair's breadth from hanging tonight and didn't even know it? Please thank Alle for me." "I know how close you are to Lady Eadoin. I'm sorry," Macaria said quietly. Carroway nodded. "She and Queen Serae took me in when my family died. Eadoin's been like a grandmother to me. I'll never forgive Guarov if he was behind something that caused her sickness."
"We don't know that," Macaria said quickly. "And with all that's happened, there's been no time to question Crevan. All we do know is that somebody sent linens to Eadoin right before she took sick-and said the linens were from the queen."
Carroway turned. "Please tell Kiara how sorry I am to have brought this on her." He swallowed hard. "I swore to Tris that I would lay down my life for him when we fled Jared's coup. And while I'm fond of living, I would die for Kiara if it's the only way to clear her honor."
"She would never ask that!"
Carroway sighed. "As you've seen, circumstances may take that decision out of her control." Macaria left her seat and joined him near the fire, warming her hands at the hearth. "I hesitate to ask, but is there other news from the palace?"
Macaria nodded. "Tomorrow, we're taking Kiara to the lodge. She thinks it might be safer there-fewer people, away from court." She swallowed hard. "It means leaving the city." Macaria turned toward him.
"By the time we get back, the king will have returned. Decisions will be made." Macaria drew a deep breath. "I didn't want to go away like this. Not without telling you that I love you."
Carroway caught his breath, silenced for a moment. He spread his hands, palms up. "I have nothing to offer you," he said, his voice catching. "No patronage. No access to court. My lands and title are worthless. When the king returns, I'll be a beggar or a corpse." Macaria's gaze was intense, but he could not look away. "Then maybe you'll finally believe that I never wanted any of those things. You've been so noble, keeping your distance. Now I know why. That doesn't matter to me. I love you, Riordan Carroway, and your music." Her voice grew quiet. "I always have."
Carroway reached out to draw her to him, slowly, as if moving might break the spell of the
moment. Macaria threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, as his fingers smoothed her fine dark hair. "I don't want to hurt you," he said quietly, pressing his check against the top of her head. "I have no future."
Macaria pushed back far enough to see his face, and she lifted one hand to touch his cheek. He closed his eyes, relishing the touch. "M'lady gave me leave until the dawn," she murmured. "We have tonight."
Carroway's throat tightened at her words. It's what I've dreamed of hearing her say. But not now. "You don't know how much that means to me," he whispered. But he shook his head as she tried to draw him toward the bed. "It's too dangerous. If they caught us together, you'd lose everything. I can't let that happen." He tipped her chin up until she met his eyes. "I do love you, Macaria. Enough that I won't see you hurt because of me." He wiped a tear from her eye with the side of his hand. "There now. At least all's been said. No more pretending." He managed a wan smile. "That's something, I guess." "Not enough," Macaria said, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him. "Not nearly enough."