There was no point in arguing the matter. Gershon was showing her as much kindness as he ever had. Best just to accept his praise and be grateful.
“Again, swordmaster, thank you. Had it not been for you, I never would have made it through these past several turns.”
He shrugged, looking embarrassed, as he always did when she paid him compliments. “Well, maybe you’ll show your gratitude by not making yourself such a nuisance all the time.”
Keziah laughed, though abruptly her chest was aching. She stepped quickly to where he stood, kissed his cheek, and ran from the gardens, knowing at last what she had to do.
By the time she reached the king’s chamber, her heart was pounding, her courage failing her. Resisting an urge to flee, she knocked on his door.
“Enter!” came the reply.
She pushed the door open and walked in. To her relief, he was alone, save for a young servant.
Kearney was sitting at a small writing table, but seeing her, he quickly stood. “Ke-” He glanced at the boy. “Archminister.”
“Forgive me for disturbing you, Your Majesty.” She realized that she was wringing her hands, and she allowed them to fall to her sides.
“Not at all. Is something troubling you?”
She hesitated, her eyes welling.
“Please leave us,” he said to the servant.
The boy let himself out of the chamber.
He crossed to where she was standing and took her hands. “Now, what’s happened?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but began to cry instead.
“What is it, Kez?”
She was trembling, her legs shaking so badly that she had to tighten her grip on his hands just to keep from collapsing to the floor.
“Kez?” he said, sounding truly afraid.
“I can’t go back with you,” she blurted out.
He blinked. “What?”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
He released her hands and took a step back. “Do what?” he asked.
But he already knew. She read it in those grey eyes. Strangely, seeing such hurt in them now emboldened her, convincing her that she was doing the right thing. Finally. She wiped her tears away.
“There was a time when I loved you more than anything in the world,” she told him. “In a way, I always will love you. But we can never be together again, and so long as I remain in your court, I’ll never be able to love another.”
“All the more reason to keep you as my archminister.” He smiled halfheartedly, then looked away, shaking his head. “That was meant as a joke. I suppose it wasn’t very funny.”
“I’d ask you to release me from your service, Your Majesty. I think it’s best for both of us.”
“Do you love another, Kez?”
“I’m not certain.”
He frowned. “You’re not certain?”
“It’s possible that I do, yes. But that’s not the reason I want to leave your court, at least not entirely. I see the way you look at me. It’s only a matter of time before others notice as well.”
“I look at you that way because I love you.”
“I know. And that’s why I have to leave you.”
“Where will you go?”
“Actually, I was going to ask Lord Curgh if I might serve in his court.”
Comprehension lit his face, and for a moment she feared that he would grow angry. But he merely smiled. “I hope you’ll be very happy here. If Tavis is as wise as I think he is, he’ll soon find himself being served by the two finest ministers in Eibithar.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
He stepped forward and put his arms around her, kissing her brow. “I’ll miss you, Kez,” he whispered.
“And I you.”
He held her a moment longer, then stepped back. “I hereby release you from service in the court of Audun’s Castle. May you find happiness on whatever path you choose.”
She smiled, tears on her cheeks once more. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said softly, and left him.
She hurried through the castle corridors, nearly breaking into a run. Coming at last to Tavis’s presence chamber, she knocked and let herself in at the duke’s summons.
Fotir was with him. Of course.
“Archminister,” Tavis said. “What can I do for you?”
“Actually, my lord, I no longer go by that title.”
The two men shared a glance.
“What do you mean?” the young duke asked.
“I’ve left the king’s court. I asked him to release me from his service, and he kindly granted my request.”
Fotir shook his head. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“I was wondering, my lord,” she went on, ignoring him for the moment, “if you might have use for another minister in your court.”
Tavis’s eyes widened. “My court?”
“Yes.”
“I … I have first and second ministers already. Curgh’s wealth is substantial, but I can hardly afford-”
“You wouldn’t have to pay me much.”
Fotir was smiling now, regarding her with astonishment. “Why are you doing this?”
Their eyes met, and Keziah realized she was grinning stupidly. “Why do you think?”
Tavis looked from Fotir to Keziah and then back again, amusement and puzzlement on his scarred face. “What do you think of all this, First Minister?” he asked. “After what I said today about not collecting ministers as if they were Sanbiri swords, can I really add another to my court?”
The minister didn’t take his eyes off of her, but he began to laugh. “I’m not certain that I can offer an objective opinion on this, my lord.”
“Then don’t.”
At that, Fotir turned to the young duke, gratitude written on his features. He really was quite handsome. “Yes, my lord, I think you can.”
“Very well.” Tavis faced Keziah once more. “Welcome to the Curgh court, Minister.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“I suppose this means that you won’t be riding south with your brother.”
“My brother?” she said.
“Yes. He’s leaving with the king tomorrow.”
It made sense. No doubt Grinsa was eager to return to Cresenne and Bryntelle. But there was something in the duke’s tone …
“You haven’t spoken to him,” Tavis said.
“No, my lord.”
“I think you should. He’s in his chamber, I believe, preparing for his journey.”
Keziah started to leave the chamber, then faltered, meeting Fotir’s gaze.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We’ll talk later.”
She nodded and went in search of her brother. There was a knot in her stomach, though she wasn’t sure why. Reaching his chamber, she found the door ajar. She knocked once before stepping inside.
Grinsa was bent over his travel sack, but he straightened at the sight of her. His face was pale, his expression grim. Keziah shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You’re leaving,” she said.
“Yes. I’m riding south with you and the king.”
“I’m not going south.”
He frowned. “You’re not?”
“I’m no longer archminister.”
“What?”
“It was my choice. I can’t serve Kearney anymore. It’s just too difficult.”
“Where will you go?”
A small smile touched her lips. “I’m staying here in Curgh.”
“Oh, Kezi,” he said, taking her in his arms. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” He looked down at her. “Fotir’s a good man.”
“Who said anything about Fotir?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not fair,” she said. “How is it that I can never surprise you?”
“You have surprised me, again and again. You surprised me when you risked your life to deceive the Weaver, and again when you suggested that we strike at him through your dreams the night before the battle. And you surprised me just now. A year ago you wouldn’t have been able to make such a choice.”
“I think you’re right.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Just because I’m no longer archminister doesn’t mean that I can’t visit Audun’s Castle.”
“I won’t be staying in Audun’s Castle.”