I worked to hide the unexpected sadness growing in me as it dawned that none of the events he mentioned would include me. Because of my new life in hiding, I might never know my first niece or nephew, though if I had been dispatched to the outer reaches of Dalbreck, my chances would have been no better of ever seeing this child.
I stared at my brother, his nose slightly crooked, his eyes set deep, his cheeks dimpled with joy, twenty-three and more man than boy now, broad strong shoulders for holding a child, already becoming a father right before my eyes. I looked at his happiness, and mine returned. That was how it had always been. Walther always cheered me when no one else could.
He talked on, and I hardly noticed the forest darkening around us until he jumped up. “We both need to go. Will you be all right on your own?”
“I nearly sliced you in two when I first got here,” I said, patting my sheathed knife.
“Keeping up your practice?”
“Not a bit, I’m afraid.”
I stooped to pick up the blanket, but he stopped me, grabbing my arm gently and shaking his head. “It’s not right that you had to practice in private, Lia. When I’m king, things will be different.”
“You plan on seizing the throne soon?” I teased.
He smiled. “The time will come. But promise me in the meantime to keep up your practice.”
I nodded. “I promise.”
“Hurry, then, before it gets dark.”
We gathered up the blanket and basket, and he kissed my cheek. “You’re happy with your new life here?”
“I could only be happier if you, Bryn, and Regan were here with me.”
“Patience, Lia. We’ll figure out something. Here, take this,” he said, shoving the basket into my hands. “A little morsel in the bottom to tide you over. I’ll stop in again before I leave on patrol. Stay safe until then.”
I nodded, mulling over the realization that he had so many responsibilities now—husband, father, soldier—and ultimately heir to the throne. He shouldn’t have to fit worries of me in there too, but I was glad he did. “Give Greta my love and glad tidings.”
“I will.” He turned to leave, but I blurted out another question, unable to let him go.
“Walther, when was it that you knew you loved Greta?”
The look that always descended on him when he spoke of Greta settled over him like a silken cloud. He sighed. “I knew the minute I laid eyes on her.”
My face must have betrayed my disappointment. He reached out and pinched my chin. “I know the arranged marriage planted seeds of doubt for you, but someone will come along, someone worthy of you. And you’ll know it the minute you meet him.”
Again, it wasn’t the answer I hoped for, but I nodded and then thought of Pauline and her worries. “Walther, I promise this is my last question, but have you any news of Mikael?”
“Mikael?”
“He’s in the Guard. He was on patrol. A young blond fellow. He should have been back by now.”
I watched him search his memory, shaking his head. “I don’t know any—”
I added more scattered details that Pauline had given me about him, including a silly red cravat that he sometimes wore when off duty. Walther’s gaze shot up at me. “Mikael. Of course. I know who he is.” His brows drew together in a rare menacing way, darkening his whole face. “You aren’t involved with him, are you?”
“No, of course not, but—”
“Good. Steer clear of his sort. His platoon’s been back for two weeks. Last I saw of him, he was at the pub, fuller than a tick, with a maid on each knee. That scoundrel’s got a sugared tongue and a swooning girl in every town from here to Civica—and he’s known to brag about it.”
I gaped at him, unable to speak.
He grimaced. “Oh, good gods, if it’s not you, it’s Pauline. She had eyes for him?”
I nodded.
“Then so much the better that she’s free of him now and here with you. He’s nothing but trouble. Make sure she stays away from him.”
“Are you certain, Walther? Mikael?”
“He boasts about his conquests and the broken hearts he’s left behind as if they’re medals pinned on his chest. I’m certain.”
He said his hurried good-byes with a mindful eye to the growing darkness, but I left mostly in a daze, hardly remembering the steps that took me back to the cottage.
She’s free of him now.
No, not now. Not ever.
What would I tell her? It would be easier if Mikael were dead.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
KADEN
So.
Our princess has a lover.
When I followed her into the forest, I thought I was finally going to get what I needed—time alone with her. But the farther she went, the more curious I became. Where could she possibly be going? My mind conjured a lot of possibilities but never conceived of the one that took me by surprise.
I watched her fly into his arms, kissing him, holding him like she’d never let go. The young man was obviously just as happy to see her. They disappeared into the ruins, still tangled in each other’s arms. What happened from there wasn’t hard for me to imagine.
All along, that was what drove her.
A lover.
That was why she ran from the marriage. I didn’t know why I should feel sick. Maybe it was the way she had looked into my eyes this morning. The way she lingered. The blush on her cheeks. It did something to me. Something I liked. Something that made me think maybe things could still be different. I thought about it all day as I rode to Luiseveque to leave a message. And then all the way back again, even though I tried to banish her from my thoughts. Maybe things could be different. Evidently not.
It felt like I had been punched in the gut—a feeling I wasn’t accustomed to. I usually guarded myself well in that regard. Wounds in the field were one thing, but these kind, they were sheer stupidity. I may have had the air knocked out of me, but Rafe looked like he had been trampled. Stupid sot.
When I turned to leave, he was standing just a dozen feet away, not even trying to hide his presence. He had seen it all. Apparently the smitten jackass had followed us. He didn’t speak when I saw him. I suspected he couldn’t.
I brushed past him. “It seems she’s true to her word. She isn’t the innocent sort, is she?”
He didn’t reply. A reply would have been redundant. His face already said it. Maybe now he’d be on his way once and for all.
Always on the wind.
I hear them coming.
Tell me again, Ama, about the storm.
There is no time for a story, child.
Please, Ama.
Her eyes are hollow.
There is no supper tonight.
A story is all I have to fill her.
It was a storm, that’s all I remember.
A storm that wouldn’t end.
A great storm, she prompts.
I sigh, Yes, and pull her to my lap.
Once upon a time, child,
Long, long ago,
Seven stars were flung from the sky.
One to shake the mountains,
One to churn the seas,
One to choke the air,
And four to test the hearts of men.
A thousand knives of light
Grew to an explosive rolling cloud,
Like a hungry monster.
Only a little princess found grace,
A princess just like you.…