Chapter 36
Three days later…
Stella’s fingers squeeze mine. Tight. Her expression appears serene, her hair woven into an intricate braid and a custom green velvet dress flowing over her legs against the saddle. But I see the way she clenches the reigns, her knuckles white. The way her eyes dart everywhere, looking for threats.
She’s terrified.
We left the manor the morning after Abigail and Francis arrived, and we’ve been riding nonstop to get to the castle before sunset.
Abigail has some romantic vision of us riding into the city with the sun’s last rays shining on our faces and people throwing roses at our horses’ feet. Like that’s going to happen. The people might be happy to see Abigail, as pretty as she is, but once they see me, I doubt our reception will be warm.
“Alright, it’s time,” Abigail shouts from the front of the group. We’re a rather large party, with all of the staff from the manor, Francis, Abigail and a host of guards that the queen sent to accompany her advisor. But I gather that Abigail was hoping that our entourage would help us make a splash.
“Your Graces, you’ll be here behind a few guards,” she shouts, waving her hand to urge Stella and I forward. “Francis, you’ll be behind them. Then we’ll do four more guards followed by the manor staff in the wagon and the rest of the guards will bring up the rear.”
Once we’re all in formation, the Poet nods, approving of our positions. “Now remember, while we do not anticipate any hostility, all guards should be on high alert for anyone who may be loyal to Orrin. I can’t imagine that any such person exists,” she grimaces, “But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
The forest has thinned the closer we’ve gotten to Roburry, and now we’re nearly to the city gates. At Francis” advice, we chose not to send a messenger ahead and announce our arrival. He didn’t want any of Orrin’s followers to be prepared for us, and I agreed.
I want Jareth in particular to be a sitting duck when I find him.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask, urging my borrowed mount a little closer to Stella.
She turns to me, and I’m struck with how beautiful she is. After seeing her every day for three months, one would think that I would be unfazed. But I saw only a mask made by the curse for most of that time, her true face hidden from me.
Yet even now, after seeing the real her every day for a few weeks, I know I’ll never get sick of it. Never get tired of tracing her freckles or kissing her smiles. A lifetime isn’t long enough.
“Not in the least,” she admits, squaring her shoulders. “But we can handle it.”
“Yes,” I lift our twined fingers and kiss the back of her hand, “We can.” Then I nod to Abigail, and she leads our party through the city gates.
It takes the people of Roburry a while to realize that we’re more than mere travelers as we pass through the streets. But once they notice Francis” official uniform and Stella and mine’s matching Roburry finery, they all stop to watch.
People on horseback dismount and move to the side of the street even though there’s room enough for them to pass. Kids cease their playing and watch with wide wistful eyes at our procession. When the city guards see us, some of them recognize me, but even the ones who don’t seem to understand fairly quickly who I am.
I don’t expect them to know what to do with me, given that they haven’t heard the news about Orrin yet. But when a few people here and there begin to salute, they’re not looking at me.
They’re looking at Stella.
An older inn owner smiles at my fiancée, saluting the duchess-to-be with a hopeful smile. A grizzled blacksmith does the same, giving her a nod as we pass. Children smile and wave, business owners salute and nod. Nearly half the population is looking at Stella like she’s a hero returned from battle.
“I know them,” Stella whispers beside me. “The inn owner was there the first time I tried to escape and Orrin found me. She wanted to help but he was too powerful to oppose.”
“And the blacksmith?” I ask, needing to hear how these people have come to adore the woman I love.
Stella smirks at me, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Orrin sent me to bankrupt him for his refusal to make weapons that could carry poisons. I did as he asked, but I went back later and left the man some money from Orrin’s stores and a note telling him to start over elsewhere. Clearly, he didn’t listen.”
“Sounds a lot like you,” I grin, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “And the children?”
“I set up a system with the kitchen workers to get the left over scraps to the children without Orrin finding out about it.” She shakes her head. ”But I don’t understand how they all know my face. I was always so careful.”
But they do know her face. On and on the cycle goes. A woman she was supposed to ruin but didn’t. A family she was supposed to split up but helped instead. Every time Orrin sent her to do a job, she defied him when she could, and made it up to people when she couldn’t.
Soon the streets are lined with people saluting, their eyes filled with admiration. And as I dote on Stella, holding her hand, kissing her cheek and being generally bemused with her, their admiration trickles over to me too.
For the first time, I truly think we can do this.
When we make it to the castle gates, Abigail announces us to the guards. They argue with her for a moment, insisting that I’m dead, but she wins in the end and they let us through. The people follow in after us, the gates kept open at my command.
Once our party is safely positioned behind our guards, Stella and I turn so we can see the crowd smooshed together in the courtyard. It takes a few moments for them to quiet down, their expressions a mixture of hopeful and distrusting. While many of them have positive experiences with Stella, to others we’re a stranger and a dead man.
“For those of you who do not remember me,” I shout, sitting up straight in my saddle. “I’m Alistair Godfrey, son of Dinah and Robert Godfrey. My brother, Orrin Godfrey, has stepped down as duke and will no longer sit at Roburry castle. Instead, I will take his place, and my fiancée, Stella Freemont, will be my duchess.”
The silence is deafening.
I long to glance at Stella and see how she’s faring, but I don’t want anyone to know how anxious we are. We need to appear strong and capable, not overwhelmed and terrified.
“Alistair,” Stella says, and I look over to find her pointing at someone sneaking from the castle steps toward the crowd, keeping close to the stone wall.
“Jareth,” I curse under my breath. “Stop him,” I shout, pointing to the heinous man.
Our archers knock their arrows and a moment later, Jareth falls to the ground, an arrow in his shoulder.
He screams like a dying pig, picking himself up and clutching the arm of his wounded shoulder. When his eyes find Stella, his nostrils flare with rage. He takes a step closer, but an arrow hits the stone at his feet.
When his eyes find me, he goes still.
“Let that be a warning,” I call out, my voice deathly cold. “My brother’s reign was cruel and self-serving. Those who wish to continue such practices will not be welcome in Roburry. And anyone who has ever harmed my wife—”
“Fiancée,” Stella corrects me with a smile.
“Will be punished. However, anyone who yearns for peace and is willing to participate in the revival of our city is welcome to stay.”
The crowd’s continued silence fills me with uncertainty. Maybe it wasn’t so smart to shoot someone on the first day. But I can’t come to regret it. It’s the least that Jareth deserves.
From the back of the crowd, a grizzly looking man with a beard steps a bit closer, and I go still. The last time I saw him, my mother was on his saddle and he was taking her away to safety. The Baron.
He gives me a nod which I return. Though I’m desperate to ask about my mother, I’ll wait until I can speak to him privately. Stella must notice him too, because she smiles.
“That’s how they knew me,” she whispers. ”All this time, he”s been telling them about me.”
The Baron grins at us and raises his fist in the air. “Long live the Godfreys,” he shouts with a wink.
There’s a pause, and I wonder if anyone will echo him.
But then the crowd raises their fists and shouts, “Long live the Godfreys.” They repeat the chant, and while some people are still sour faced at our arrival, most of them are smiling.
“We can do this,” Stella says, tugging on my hand.
Leaning over, I kiss her as the crowd cheers. We still have a lot of ground to cover, but hearing the crowd chant for our victory, I feel like the rain has finally come. Like after years of enduring it, the cruelty my brother tainted us all with is being washed away.
Today is the start of a new beginning.