Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
“A nd you're certain that she's not going to sound the alarm the second she sees us and realizes what's going on?” Molly asked for the third time as we walked up the short rundown path.
Almost there.
“Certain is a strong word,” I hedged. “But I do think she'll be bowled over with Duncan's presence and she'll err on the side of being a suck-up. At least for a little while.” I shrugged and rapped on the door three times hard. “But I guess we'll find out in a second.”
Sometimes, when the shitstorm came, you had to take cover where you found it. And while Druzilla and my stepbrothers weren’t exactly the stuff of dreams, they were the only family I had. Fetch bobbed and weaved on my shoulder, as if contemplating whether to take his chances elsewhere, eventually settling in, loyal bird that he was.
The door opened much more quickly than I would have expected at this time of morning and by the one person who never opened the door. My stepmother appeared before us in her fluffy dark brown robe with her hair wrapped in a night bonnet.
“Harmony, what on earth are you doing here at this time of night?” Her eyes flitted away from mine as she glared at Fetch and fidgeted with the belt at her waist. “The turkey meat is gone. I did as you told me and sent some to Xavier and that little Petway scamp, but when you never came back for the rest, we ate it. It would’ve turned by now if we didn’t put it in the smoker in any case, and I’ve told you before, we don’t work for you.”
It took a second, but I could tell the moment she noticed the three people behind me, because she instantly raised a hand to her bonnet with a gasp. “You brought guests,” she demanded, her thin brows instantly caving into a frown. “You could have at least warned me, you know. I'll not be hosting a bunch of your hooligan friends or wasting my good tea leaves on the likes of—” She broke off and her eyes went wide as she stared into Duncan's face and recognition dawned.
How the hell she recognized him, I will never know. Maybe she saw something of his father in his face—she’d attended balls back before she’d married Paw.
“Oh, my. Is that—Are you—?” She lifted a fluttering hand over her heart and took a step back, clearly in shock. “Your Highness,” she whispered as she dipped into a deep curtsy. “I-I had no idea. Please forgive me for my rudeness.” She moved to one side of the door and waved him in like he was…royalty. “Spalding!” she hollered over her shoulder and then screamed even louder. “Spalding. Get up this instant!”
As the rest of us stepped past her, she almost knocked Molly over to get closer to Duncan.
“Please forgive my daughter's rudeness. I'm Druzilla Fallowell, Harmony's mother.”
“Step,” I interjected in a low voice.
“Fine, you ungrateful wretch. Step mother.” She fixed a beatific smile on her face as she turned back towards Duncan. “I've always felt that blood ties were overrated. It's the person that raises you and nourishes you and takes care of you when you're afraid that truly makes a mother. Don't you think, Prince Duncan?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said with a thin smile. “Mine was a prostitute who handed me over to my father in exchange for enough gold to leave Alabaster.”
Moll met my gaze with wide eyes, and I shrugged. The official word was that Duncan’s mother had been married to the king in a secret ceremony and then died in childbirth before their marriage could be announced. Apparently, the prince had decided there was no longer a need to keep up appearances now that he planned to dismantle the monarchy.
Maybe it was the absurdity of it all, or maybe I was just punch-drunk and exhausted, but a giggle bubbled from my lips as Druzilla’s mouth opened and closed like a landed carp. I had to clap my hand over my lips to keep it from spilling out in peals of hysterical, unstoppable laughter.
“Yes. Well…that doesn’t sound very nice, does it?” She cleared her throat and waved to the modest parlor with a sweeping hand. “Please. Sit. Put your feet up if you like.”
“What are you caterwauling about, Mother?” Spalding grumbled as he entered the room scratching his balls, wearing only sleeping pants, his thin chest bare.
“Look who’s come to visit, dear!” she said, scurrying his way and shooting him an urgent look. “It’s Prince Duncan.”
“And this is Sir Crispin Locke,” Duncan said, waving a hand toward his guard.
“Pleasure.” She barely spared the man a look before beaming at the prince once again. “Spalding is my oldest son. His brother Wayne is working the night shift at the mill. He should be home in a couple of hours.” She turned to a still groggy Spalding. “Put some proper clothes on, then get the kettle on to boil and take out those lovely biscuits that we scrimped for to enjoy on Abundance Day, hmm?”
He trudged off, steps slow and heavy.
“So…to what do I owe this honor?” she asked, gesturing again for us to sit as she lowered herself onto the love seat.
Duncan rose his brows at me in question, and I shook my head. I needed to cherry-pick what I told her and how I said it, or she would absolutely lose her mind.
“Look, Druzilla,” I began as I moved to sit across from her. “We need?—”
“Actually, you know what? Maybe you’d rather stand, Harmony…you’re covered in filth.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked me up and down.
I stared at her, used to her rules.
Molly on the other hand… “What the hell is wrong with y?—”
“Good point!” Duncan cut off Molly’s incoming tirade, turning the full wattage of his smile Druzilla’s way. “We’re all filthy, and there’s no reason to muddy up your lovely furniture. Maybe we could make use of your bath while you fix us something to eat and drink?”
Her eyes locked on that devilish dimple for so long, I wondered if she might be in a trance, but then she blinked. “Oh. Yes, alright. Three of you are in need of a good soaking, but I only have one bathtub, and once we fill it, it will take hours for the well to refill so it can be used again… Your Highness, I insist you take the bath. Harmony and your knight can use the wash basins.”
“Harmony shall take the bath; Crispin and I can manage fine with the basin.” Duncan continued to smile.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but my daughter needs nothing special?—”
“Step,” Molly growled. This was one of the many reasons I loved her. She wasn’t perfect, but there was no one more loyal.
“My step daughter didn’t need a hot, fancy bath when she lived under my roof, and she doesn’t need one now.” She let out an indignant sniff. “That’s how children become spoiled .”
I saw the anger flash in Duncan’s eyes despite the smile, and I held up a hand, hoping to nip this impending argument in the bud. “It’s no problem at all. She’s right, a good scrub and some clean clothes will do the trick. Go on, Duncan. I’ll show Crispin to the basin.”
“Tell you what,” Duncan said, tugging a gold coin from his pocket. “We’ll flip for the tub. The three of us.” He eyed Crispin and wiggled his fingers. “Heads or tails?”
He flipped the coin in the air and Crispin called it, his lips twitching as he did.
“Tails.”
“Ooh, bad luck, my friend. It’s heads.” Duncan faced me, a glint in his eye. “Here we go, Harm. I’ll call it this time…Tails!”
As he caught the coin and slapped it to the back of his hand, I already knew what would be there, and a warm rush of affection flowed through me even as my eyes stung.
How could he come from that place and still be so fucking good?
Druzilla stared at the coin clearly showing heads. She tried to splutter but Duncan was already speaking.
“Fair is fair, Mrs. Fallowell. Now how about you show me those basins and then head into the kitchen with Spalding to work on that meal while the rest of us make ourselves presentable. Then we can chat about the reason for our visit.”
Druzilla nodded, looking slightly dazed as she led the men from the room.
Half an hour later, things were looking up despite the chilly reception I’d received—not that it was a surprise. The hot water soaked some of my soreness away, and I didn’t smell like a sewer or falcon shit anymore. Druzilla even let me borrow a fitted jacket that was too small for her—my crimson one was ripped in several places. By the time I scrubbed the mud and gunk off my boots, I was feeling better. The men seemed refreshed as well, even if their clothes were bloodstained.
The five of us wound up seated around the kitchen table sharing a meal of buttermilk biscuits, rich gravy, and steaming mugs of strong, hot coffee instead of tea. I was almost feeling human again when I spoke.
“Did you clean your wounds well?” I asked both Duncan and Crispin.
“All is well,” Crispin said. “Couple of bleeders but mostly superficial. My internal organs feel like they’ve been pureed though after a few of those blows landed.” He and Duncan both chuckled and I let out a sigh of relief. Laughing about it was good. I hoped that meant neither were critically injured.
Duncan dipped his head toward my stepmother. “Thank you for your hospitality, Druzilla. We’re happy to answer your questions now.”
“Actually, Your Highness, would you permit me to speak to my…husband’s daughter alone for a moment, please?”
My face must’ve registered my shock and discomfort, because Duncan was already shaking his head. “No need for that. We can all talk?—”
“It’s okay, Duncan.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I moved Fetch from my shoulder to perch on the back of the chair. “It’s better this way.”
Druzilla patted the corners of her mouth with her napkin as she stood, and I followed suit.
“Call me if anyone needs a horse-kick to the spleen,” Molly murmured as I passed by her chair.
“Will do.”
By the time we got to Druzilla’s bedroom and she closed the door, I was ready. Mentally armored up and loaded for bear if she came at me—hell, it couldn’t be worse than facing a real bear.
I almost changed my mind on that sentiment when she stepped closer and pulled me in for the world’s most awkward hug.
Fear of the unknown coursed through me and I froze, stiff as a board.
“Wh-what the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m embracing you, Harmony. What does it feel like?”
It felt like I was wrestling with a bag of coat hangers, but I kept that thought to myself as she pulled away and ran a hand over her hair as if she were making sure there wasn’t a strand out of place.
“I think I’ve pieced some of it together once I got over the shock of your arrival. We got a special delivery of flyers a few days ago about the attack on the king. They mentioned a redhead, but I didn’t really think anything of it. Then when I saw Molly’s hair earlier, cut short and dyed that horrific color…” She touched her bonnet absently before continuing. “That’s why you left here so quickly, isn’t it? She snuck into the Jubilee, and you were worried for her after the gossip Wayne shared.”
I nodded. No point in denying it now. “Yes.”
“But you were too late. Did he…” she trailed off and pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. Part of me wanted to comfort her, but I held back.
“No. It was a close thing but we stopped him. She stopped him.”
“Good. That’s good.” She let her eyes drift shut as her shoulders drooped. “It’s a terrible thing, that. The powerlessness of it. It’s hard to forget, and sometimes it rears its head when you least expect it—years can go by and…it comes back in a rush, attacking you like the first time.”
Words escaped me as the truth settled over me, sure as could be. Druzilla knew what it meant to be violated firsthand. No matter our years of differences and the pain she caused me, my chest ached for her and tears pricked at my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Druzilla.” It was all I had to offer her, yet she didn’t seem to hear me.
She lifted her head and glanced over at a framed picture of my father that sat on her maple dresser. “You know, I chose him because I needed someone to marry quickly, and my options were limited due to my…condition. Imagine my surprise when your father not only raised a son that wasn’t his but also helped me heal with his gentle love and adoration.”
I blinked at her, stunned. Druzilla hadn’t married my dad because of his charm. She married him because her rapist had left her pregnant.
How terrifying that must’ve been.
In the next moment, my thoughts shifted to my father…I opened my mouth, but she beat me to it.
“He knew from the start. I hadn’t planned to tell him, but he knew and asked me outright. I told him the truth and he never once made me regret it. Never once even mentioned it again. He just…loved me unconditionally and always. I’m embarrassed to say that I took it for granted after a time. I could’ve been a better wife. I should’ve been a better…stepmother. But regrets are a bit like your brothers. They hurt to think about and accomplish nothing.” She let out a tiny laugh at her own joke, and I managed a smile of my own.
“They’re plenty old enough to move out, you know.”
“They are. But then I’d be alone with far too much time to wallow in all those regrets and the memories I can’t escape.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “So here we are. Now it’s your turn to fill in some of the blanks for me. How did you wind up with a prince and his guard in tow?”
I gave her the short version of events, ending on Duncan’s now-botched plan for a revolution.
“When we left Little Alabaster, they were hanging nobles who were for the cause. Right now, our goal is to get out of The Hollow and somewhere safe so we can regroup. Duncan's hope is to put together an army of his own and take down the monarchy. I’m…I’m going to go with him and help him in whatever way I can.”
Saying it out loud made me realize just how ridiculous it all sounded, but it was the truth, and I wasn’t taking it back.
“What do you need from me?”
It was a question she’d literally never asked, so it took a second to process. “Honestly, two things. One, we’ll take anything you have in the way of weapons. Duncan has gold and some things we can trade, but we only have a couple of swords and a few other items to help us through. If the sorcerer and his guards catch us en route before we reach a safe place, we’re…well, we’re sitting ducks.”
She gave a crisp nod. “The boys have some weapons you can take, a bow and arrow, and some axes. What else?”
Relyk would track me, I was sure of it. “I need you to leave here and hide for a time. Duncan will give you some coins. Go stay with your cousin, Ilsa. I’m just not sure if they know my real name now, or if they might come looking for my family.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “Not that we’ve been much of that to you. But again, I won’t waste time on regrets. You’ve got to get out of here. I wish…I wish I’d had a friend like you when I was a girl, Harmony. Molly is lucky to have you.”
Shock on shock, I felt like I was in a dream. But true to her word, Druzilla gave me all the help I asked for.
By the time we headed out the door a short time later, we were much better situated than when we’d arrived. Druzilla had given us a pack filled with what food they had on hand as well as some spare clothing, and weapons. She had even argued with Duncan—albeit briefly—when he handed her a pile of coins that paid for her kindness ten times over. I’d taken the opportunity to make sure the coins I’d promised to Gen for her silence, got to her grandmother in The Hollow, who would then let Gen know she got the coins. Druzilla agreed, even though it left her with less.
What I left with was priceless—a final understanding, truths revealed, and a past made a little better.
None of it was my fault…Even she knew she’d been wrong. Hurt people hurt people. I didn’t have to forget what she’d done, but I would forgive it, as much for myself as for her and my father.
“I still think she’s a piece of shit,” Molly said as we walked toward main street, eyes peeled for black flies, ears pricked for the sound of men on horseback. The morning sun was up, though, and it was unseasonably mild, which made it all the more strange when flashes of white fluttered down from the sky, whispering to the ground in front of us.
Not snow, I realized with a start.
Flyers.
Typically, the palace had them sent in the dead of night so we would awaken to them scattered in the streets. Propaganda bullshit about how teamwork made the dream work, touting the virtues of nationalism.
Today, though, there was a good chance at least a couple of our faces would be plastered dead center of said flyers.
We all stood, faces upturned, waiting for the first of them to reach us. Fetch shifted on my shoulder, but Duncan was able to snatch one out of the air before he could fly up, and we all huddled around to see.
“Well?” I demanded, not close enough to read the writing.
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the page and then looked up, bewildered.
“Bertrand.” He held the paper out for the rest of us to read.
To all those in The Hollow,
My falcons deliver one last missive, and it will be of my own mind, not the drivel sorcerer Relyk wishes you to read. Today, I take a stand, and I ask you to join me. We can no longer allow ourselves to be oppressed. To a man…to a woman, we must fight the powers that be and demand a change. To be treated with dignity, and kindness. No person should work their fingers to the bone and still go to bed hungry. No person should go without medicine they need because they don’t have coin to pay for it and are too old to work. We must tear down the wall that divides us. We need a change in regime, to a man who sees us all! That man is Prince Duncan.
All Hail, King Duncan!
Bertrand, The Falconer
“Bloody hell,” Crispin hissed, raking a hand through his hair.
My arms broke out in gooseflesh, and I rocked back on my heels as the others exchanged stunned looks.
This message was a death sentence. Surely, Bertrand knew that when he signed his name in big, bold letters. As I thought back on my last conversation with him, I realized I’d missed so much of what wasn’t said. He’d spoken of Marjorie’s pain. Of how she chose to stay alive for him because she didn’t want him to be alone. Of how he’d lived a good, full life, and was ready to move onto the next…
And he’d opted to go out with a bang, supporting Duncan as best he could.
“He asked me for extra laudanum to help Marjorie sleep,” Duncan whispered, closing his eyes for a long moment and blowing out a heavy sigh. “Now, I have to assume it was for both of them…”
The thought gave me some comfort. At least they would die peacefully in each other’s arms.
I couldn’t help but think of Bonnie, Eamon and the others. Surely, Bertrand had made sure the falcons were safe before— “Ah yes!” A scratchy voice cut through the grief and worry. “Word from the palace at last! It seems our esteemed leaders have more wisdom to share. Gobble it up, Hollowers. And ask yourself, what can you do for your country today? What can you do to serve your liege, who has served you so well?”
“Fucking Pete,” Molly muttered under her breath as she turned to glare at the strange, old preacher who had dragged up his makeshift pulpit. “He just doesn’t quit, does he? No one wants to hear it!” Molly hollered, flipping him the bird from across the street.
“We have to get a move on,” Duncan said, tucking the flyer into his pocket. “Relyk has surely raised the whole army by now and is on the march. Assuming even those who oppose him got in line once he started killing, he should be coming through here to find me any time now. All he has to do is follow the dead Jackals, he’ll know I am here.”
“Come closer, countrymen,” Pete called, beckoning us closer. “Come…let me tell you about the brave King Hein–”
He broke off with a gasp, his wild eyes locking on my boots, of all things. A strange sense of deja vu passed through me, and I shivered as his face lit up with joy.
“It’s you…I had no idea! Thank the gods!”
I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came as the ground shifted beneath me, opened like a gaping mouth, and swallowed me whole.