Chapter 22
Penny
After a warm meal and a roll in the sheets, I should have been ready for sleep.
Instead, good thoughts collided with bad ones to form a maelstrom in my mind.
Kit had sensed it for himself: I was anxious about going on the road again.
Worried about the cold and the distance, but also fretting over the poor family about to be visited by a plague of rats.
It was a cruel task, likely to devastate the livelihood of some innocent, unsuspecting folk.
People like my own family who depended on their winter stores and the seeds soon to be put in the ground.
As the hours wore on, Kit dozed, and I found myself farther and farther from rest.
If the fifth Oath hadn’t been troubling enough, I also had Violette’s house call to consider. Sent at Merrick’s behest, it seemed, to stir up trouble for Kit.
By kissing him?
Why?
I’d had a similar run-in with Tessa a few months back, and I remembered how the woman’s hands on me had felt like a stain, something that tainted me somehow. I wondered if Kit felt the same, worried he was sullied now or that Violette’s actions reflected on him. The thought made my blood burn.
If Violette had been a stronger woman, or Kit a weaker man, would she have taken him to bed? Forced herself on him in even more intimate ways? I supposed she still might. Nothing stopped her from trying again, making a return visit, or haunting our home like a lecherous ghost.
There was something to it. Something she and Merrick stood to gain. But what, I couldn’t begin to guess.
With sleep eluding me, I thought to get up.
Pacing the house would expend my nervous energy and might give me a chance of catching a few winks that night, but no sooner had I resolved to rise than did Kit stir from his rest. He cringed and whimpered, curling into himself in a way I hadn’t seen in weeks.
If this had to do with Violette…
I wormed my way inside the cage of his arms. Breaking his hold on himself assured him he wasn't alone, and he began to settle. His muffled cries quieted as he gripped onto me, clutching around my chest and burying his face in my neck.
I kissed his cheek and temple, then tangled my legs between his so we were thoroughly intertwined.
He was still tense, and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, so I placed another kiss near his ear and began to hum a song my mother used to sing to Sayla and I each night.
I only remembered a few of the words, but the tune was ingrained in my mind.
By the second time through, Kit's features had gone slack, and his hold on me was loose. I kept humming, thinking it should have soothed me, too, but I remained agitated and hopelessly awake until the night sky began to grow light.
Kit had been settled for hours when I tried to loose myself from him again. This time, my efforts were successful. I made it off the bed and onto my feet, with plans to make coffee and watch the sunrise.
It was a peaceful activity, serene, and I was anything but. So, rather than stare mindlessly at the horizon, I opted to get dressed. I put on everything, even the new cloak and gloves Kit bought me. They were almost stiflingly warm indoors, but I had no reason to go out.
Nothing was open at this early hour. No one else would be up.
I shouldn't have been. But my mind ran and ran, thinking of farms outside of town, longing for my home and my family.
Everyone except Merrick. The only thing I longed for him to do was leave.
Leave Ashpoint. Leave me and Kit alone. I'd told him as much on multiple occasions, but he refused to relent.
If anything, he'd taken it farther, exacting revenge on me by way of Kit. It started with attempts to frame Kit for imagined crimes, and it ended with sending his wife to our door.
Yes, it ended with that. I would make sure of it.
Kit remained tucked in the nest of blankets.
I sidled up to the bed and smoothed my hand over his curls, being careful not to rouse him.
With any luck, I would be back before he woke.
We had a busy day ahead, but most of it would be spent traveling, so I could catch up on my missed sleep on the road.
I had a feeling I would rest much easier if I took care of a few things before we left.
Stuffing my feet into the thick, wool socks, I crept to the front door and stepped into my boots.
I exited quietly, pulling the door shut behind me with a soft snick before turning to face the icy world outside.
Bright snow made the scene light enough to see a ways down the path and, as I walked, the rising sun began to chase some of the chill from the air.
I'd last made this journey coming home after the family dinner where Merrick had dressed me down in front of everyone and I'd stumbled out drunk and teary. Since that encounter ended with my retreat, he wouldn't expect me to return with an attack.
Kit wouldn't expect it, and I didn't want him to. Before I came to Ashpoint and joined the Bone Men, Merrick and I settled our differences one on one. He wasn't some Shroud Warden wielding power and unearned authority. He was just a man. My father's other son. I could handle him.
Even without the fur cloak, the heat of my ire would have kept me piping hot all the way to Merrick and Violette's house.
It was still half-dark when I arrived on their doorstep and considered, just barely, how well sound carried in the wee hours of dawn.
It was likely I'd wake the neighbors by pounding on the door and shouting. A smile crossed my lips at the thought.
Merrick had made a scene at Kit's cottage more than once. This was exactly the kind of turnabout he deserved.
My grin spread as I balled my fist and knocked on the door hard enough to rattle the hinges.
“Merrick!” I called out.
I beat on the door again, then gave it a kick for good measure, hollering all the while.
I was ready to find a window to wedge open and hang my head in to bellow when the door swung inward.
Violette peered out from the darkness inside, her eyes squinted and her red hair in a messy braid coiled around the back of her head.
“Penny?”
The breath that I had ready to fill with spiteful words for my half-brother petered out. I hadn’t expected him to send his wife to receive what could have been a madman raving on their stoop. I must have looked as confused as Violette did, but only for a moment.
Shaking myself, I fixed my features with a devious smirk. “Good morning, Violette. Is your husband home?”
Violette recovered as well, shifting from shock into scorn.
“He’s sleeping,” she hissed. “Why aren’t you, Penwell?”
“What happened to Pretty Penny?” I retorted. “I was just getting used to that.”
Rather than reply, she scoffed and leaned away. She'd only opened the door a crack, but I shoved my boot into the gap, then pushed forward, leading with my shoulder to create a path.
Violette staggered back and sputtered my name again as I invaded the house.
On my last visit, I'd only seen the living and dining areas, but small buildings weren't hard to navigate. I found the hall and headed down it, aiming for the one closed door.
Violette chased after me, her bare feet pattering on the floor. “You have no right to barge into my home like some kind of wild beast!”
I beat her to what I assumed was the bedroom and flung the door wide.
It opened into a space arranged with a bed, twin dressers, and a rack of Violette’s dresses with Merrick’s ceremonial robes tucked in amidst them.
Somehow, Merrick was, indeed, asleep, forming a lumpy pile beneath a stack of blankets and furs.
It was a reversal from what I’d known of him in my youth. He was always up at first light, rampaging into my room and hauling the mattress off my bed with me still on it, dumping me on the floor. Sometimes clanging pots and pans while announcing the day had begun.
Gods, I was going to enjoy this.
Stomping forward with Violette still on my heels, I grabbed the feather pillow from under Merrick’s head and flung it on the ground. The blankets went next, yanked back to expose my half-brother in his pajamas. He jolted awake, and his head whipped all around until his gaze landed on me.
“Rise and shine, farm boy,” I taunted. “There’s no room for layabouts in this house. We wake, and we work.” In the absence of a pair of skillets to clatter together, I clapped my hands, yet another effort to goad him into motion.
It was dark, but I knew he was flushed. Red as a beet and so steamed his temples might have been beading with sweat.
I’d learned long ago to fear his anger and to avoid his wrath at any cost, but I wasn’t afraid now.
Maybe the sleep deprivation had rid me of reason, or maybe his latest affront was simply too great to go unanswered.
“What work?” he croaked, his voice still thick with sleep. He swung his legs off the edge of the mattress in a move toward standing. “Gods, Penwell, have you lost your mind? What time is it?”
Moving to the window, I shoved the drapes aside to reveal the glow of dawn in the distance. When I spun back around, Merrick was on his feet, and Violette lingered near the doorway, observing the conflict with none of her usual mirth.
“Why, it’s morning, of course,” I said. “The beginning of a new day. But this…” I marched over to him, standing eye to eye with my jaw set and my hands flexing. “This is the end.”
Merrick’s expression soured as he looked me up and down. “End of what?”
“Of you taking your hatred of me out on Kit,” I replied. “It’s going to stop.”
He shook his head, further unsettling his mussed blond locks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I leaned closer still, remembering how good it felt when I punched him. When I’d loomed over him since I was the bigger one for once. I wanted to feel that way again. But Kit asked me to be better, to be strong in other ways, and it was for his sake I came here.