"Oh, but he does." Vrell told Tara of Esek's warrant for her arrest, both as Vrell Sparrow and as Lady Averella Amal. "I only want to get home. Can you assist me?"
Tara's expression tightened. "I wish I could, but I am all alone here, as you can see. We have little funds, and I do not trust my husband's men-"
Vrell's breath snagged. "Your husband?"
"Lord Gershom." Tara held out her left hand to show a thick silver and jade ring. "My father made the match three weeks past."
Vrell clapped a hand over her mouth, but it did not stop the tears.
"Oh, Averella. Do not cry on my account. It is not so bad. He is rarely lucid and when he is, he forgets what he is doing and often falls asleep."
Vrell managed to squeak out, "Is he ill?"
Tara nodded. "He had a fever last year that left him altered. It still comes and goes. Sometimes he is quite pleasant, sometimes he is a tyrant, but mostly he is queer or sleeping."
"But you…are you well?" Vrell couldn't imagine anything so horrible. Arman, why?
Tara's expression softened. "I confess, I never imagined I would be the lady caught in Old Lord Gershom's web. But Mother sent Carmack as my guard. He makes sure I am safe. Do not dwell on my marital woes," she squeezed Vrell's hand and whispered, "for our marriage has yet to be consummated. Thank Arman for that-and Carmack. He manages to steer me and my husband in opposite directions every chance he gets."
Vrell threw her arms around her cousin. " Tara, I am so sorry I was not here for you."
Tara squeezed Vrell tight. "You are, and always will be, forgiven. Let us talk no more of my depressing life. What of you?" She raised her sculpted brows and grinned. "Traveling with the lost prince? How thrilling it must be. He is the most handsome young man I've ever met, and sweet too, don't you think? The story will undoubtedly go down in history, and you are in the midst of it all."
The heaviness left Vrell's stomach. Tara could not marry Achan. Joyful heart!
Then she squeezed her eyes shut. Arman forgive her! That she should be pleased with Tara's misfortune… She could hardly think straight.
" Tara. Achan…he…" She opened her eyes. "He seeks to marry you."
Tara gasped. "Me?"
"He doesn't know you are already wed. None of us did. Weeks ago, the knights told him he had to marry. Jaira tried to get her hands on him in Mirrorstone-it was the most disgusting display. But Achan thought of you instantly. You so enamored him at Esek's coming-of-age banquet. Sir Gavin and the knights said you were not the best match, and he has been cross ever since. He can be quite stubborn, Tara. I do not doubt he will go behind their backs and try to speak with you. Have you told Sir Gavin you are Lord Gershom's wife?"
"I did not." Tara reached under the sofa and pulled out a wicker basket. She drew out a handkerchief, dabbed her eyes, and fell back in the sofa, her golden curls spilling over the brown cushion. "What bad timing my life has had! Who will they choose for him then? You? It must be you, for I can think of no one else but Glassea, and she is a Hadar already."
Vrell shook her head. "Achan thinks me a boy-his squire, Tara, and a poor one at that. I do not wish him to know who I am. Not like this."
"But you are Lady Averella Amal, heir to Carm! Surely they would consider you. The traitor did."
Vrell sighed. "They have mentioned my name."
Tara grasped Vrell's knee. "You mean…they don't know you are you? They talk about you as if you're not there?"
"Not often. Sir Gavin is the only one who knows who I am. The rest believe I am a boy."
Tara sucked in a sharp breath. "Even Achan, the prince? He thinks you're a boy?" Tara's eyes sparkled, intoxicated with the juiciness of this information. "So they still might choose you."
"No. Maybe. Tara, even if they did, I would refuse. I love Bran, as you well know."
"Bran." Tara rolled her eyes and waved her handkerchief. "He is not to be king."
Vrell drew in a sharp breath. "I have been hiding nearly a year to avoid what has happened to you. The title of king means nothing to me. Achan is like a brother. And besides, he loves you."
Tara threw up her hands. "He cannot possibly love me. We've only spoken a total of five minutes in our life. No, he loves the idea of me, poor dear." She sniffled. "I am convinced, Averella, that true love is a myth. Still, I do hope you and Bran can make it work. And I pray whoever is chosen for Achan… well… that he will be happier than I." She reached out and stroked Vrell's hair. "Averella. You are disgusting. When did you last bathe?"
Vrell wrinkled her nose. "In Mirrorstone, and then the water was not fresh."
Tara clucked her tongue. "And how many days have passed since Mirrorstone?"
"Almost three weeks, I am afraid," Vrell whispered.
"Gracious! The men as well?"
"Oh, no. They have taken several baths, but… Oh, Tara. It has been such a trial. And men can be so revolting. They bathe together, often in a steam room or lake where I could not go. If not for bloodvoices, and Sir Gavin's help, I would have been discovered long ago."
Tara straightened. "You have the king's gift too? How could I not have known this?"
Vrell shrugged. "We only discovered it before I left for Walden's Watch."
"You went to Coraline?" Tara's eyes sparkled. "How did Shoal look?"
Vrell grinned. "Handsome as ever, and in love with a fisherman's daughter."
"Mercy. Let us speak no more of thwarted love." Tara dabbed her eyes again. "I may not be able to take you home, but I can help you bathe, at least. Go gather your things. I will have a bath drawn for you in this room. Tell Sir Gavin you are staying with me tonight, then come back here. If I have not returned, wait outside the door. I am going to fetch a few things from my room." She took Vrell's hand in hers and squeezed. "I will take care of you tonight, dearest."
25
Achan stood by the door of his bedchamber listening to Sir Gavin's heavy footsteps fade down the hall. He glanced at the tub, at the steam rising above the clear water. A bath would warm his very bones, but first…
He cracked open the door to an empty hallway and crept out, uncertain what he was looking for or how he'd know if he found it. He turned a corner and almost ran into Sparrow.
The boy frowned, his cat-like eyes scanning Achan. "I was told you were talking a bath."
"And?"
"Well…clearly you have not."
Achan narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care?"
"I simply… Well… I thought…"
Achan laughed. "Take my bath, Sparrow. Tell Sir Gavin I said so if he asks. Enjoy." He leaned close to Sparrow's ear. "I do believe they scented it with rose water." He waggled his eyebrows, stepped around the boy, and continued to the stairs.
"Achan."
He spun around.
"Please do not go to her."
Achan's muscles stiffened. "To who?"
"Lady Tara."
Achan gripped the boy's shoulder. "Are you reading my thoughts?"
Sparrow's eyes widened. "Of course not. I just know you. But you might save yourself the trouble and hear her thoughts first."
"I won't violate her mind." Again. "It isn't right."