Chapter 17
Olly
Something new and strange and loud had reached up from Olly’s chest and taken him by the throat.
Agnes had touched Ash’s face. She had stopped him from picking at himself in the way Olly had been desperate to do. She had settled his tunic and hair to make him look some semblance of an earl. It was soft, and unspoken, and fond—
She had touched his face.
Olly couldn’t let the jealousy eat at him. Ash had promised himself to him. But he was promised to Agnes, too.
He tried to shake the thought from his head.
Agnes had done nothing to make him dislike or mistrust her – nothing aside from marrying the man he loved.
And that was, as far as he could tell, simply to protect herself so she would not be forced to marry someone worse.
Every man was worse than Ash; that much he could agree with.
He was at war with himself. Agnes seemed fun, beneath a more serious exterior, and he could not help but tease her in the same way he teased Ash – all flirting and boldness.
She did not seem to mind – she even encouraged it – and that, too, was dangerous.
Part of him wanted to keep her at arm’s length. To not treat her as a friend.
But he wanted her as a friend.
Ash had to see out the request from the alderman, and with little else to do and no desire to sit and discuss taxes, Olly headed back outside.
The courtyard was busy this time of day, heaving with serving girls and dogs and guards, and as he sidestepped a lad with a chicken he collided with Penn, carrying a peregrine upon his gloved hand.
The bird was wearing a hood, yet she seemed to know that someone else was nearby.
‘God greet you, Olly,’ Penn said cheerily. ‘How do you fare?’
Olly tried not to look as if he had been lost in thought. ‘Very well, thank you,’ he said. ‘Who is this?’
‘Iseult,’ Penn said, grinning. ‘She is a bitch. Do not let her see your fingers.’
‘I certainly shall not.’
‘Are you busy?’ Penn asked, pulling Olly out of the way of a pair of girls carrying a basket.
‘I … suppose I am not,’ Olly said. ‘Ash is rather occupied, with the wedding—’
Why had he admitted that? Why had he said wedding and not named one of the countless other jobs that occupied Ash’s time?
Penn gave him a knowing look. ‘Are you sure you are well?’
Olly stiffened. He had tried to keep his face blank, his tone light. ‘Of course,’ he said, as jovially as he could manage.
Penn raised an eyebrow at him.
‘It’s a good act,’ he said smoothly. ‘But not so good.’
Olly felt an eerie sense of disquiet. He was not used to being so seen.
‘Come,’ Penn continued, not waiting for Olly to reply. ‘I need assistance in the mews. You can help me clean the floors. Hurry along, now!’
He headed off at a quick trot. Olly followed, unsure what else to do.
When Olly entered the mews, a high-ceilinged room at the top of one of the towers, his first impression was of the wall of smells that he walked into. He coughed, eyes watering. Penn handed him a broom and gave him a sharp smile.
‘Thank you.’
It wasn’t until they were deep into cleaning – the birds eyeing Olly warily – that Penn spoke again.
‘Truly, then. How are things?’
Olly stared at the pile of gravel and bird muck he had swept. ‘Fine.’
‘So you are perfectly content that the man you love is marrying someone else?’
Olly’s head snapped around. Penn was looking away from him, stroking a finger down his peregrine’s back.
‘Shut your mouth.’
Penn did not seem offended. ‘It’s going that well, then?’
Olly grimaced. Truthfully, it was going well. But he could not stop himself overthinking, fearing the worst, fearing the sudden loss of Ash from his life once again.
‘He really does adore you, you know,’ Penn said casually. ‘I feel as if this is some sort of divine reward for him having to live with Raff and me for so long, as well as all the horror we put him through.’
‘What happened to you?’ Olly asked, curious.
‘Ash hasn’t told you?’ Penn looked genuinely surprised as Olly shook his head.
‘Well, then. It is a little tricky … The shortest version of events is that I was supposed to marry Lily. I refused, I ran … Raff found me.’ A small, pleased smile.
Suddenly, Olly understood exactly the sort of relationship they had.
No wonder Penn understood him and Ash so well.
‘Not that he knew who I was, of course. Regardless, it all ended with him nearly getting killed for me. His arm, you know.’
‘… Right.’
‘Father shot him.’
‘What?’
Penn shrugged, like he’d said something like: Father offered him a cup of wine, or: Father insulted his horse.
‘It was a long time ago. Anyway, the reason he took such a risk is because Ash told him to. Because of you.’ He punctuated that with a point at Olly’s chest.
‘Me?’
‘I had returned to my father, may the Devil take his soul.’ Penn spat on the ground.
‘Raff asked Ash what he would have done had it been you. Ash probably would have set my father’s keep ablaze if it had been you in there.
I suppose I should be glad that I tied myself to the more even-headed Barden brother. ’
Olly blinked. ‘Uh …’
Penn laughed, his hair bouncing around his head. ‘What I am telling you,’ he said, ‘is that Ash loves you. And I know all this is not what you had planned. But he does love you. Do not forget that.’
‘Oh.’ Olly blinked again, feeling off-centre. ‘Thank you.’
‘You are welcome.’ Penn smiled. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you. I had a lot of questions that no one could answer … or at least, questions I dared not upset Ash with. I am pleased to finally have them answered.’
Olly glanced at him. ‘What sort of questions?’
Penn said nothing.
‘Penn! What sort of questions?’
Penn merely gave him a sharp smile before returning his attention to the bird.