Chapter 19 Penny
Penny
Iwas almost too eager to tail Merrick into the dining room. His turned back was as good as an invitation for me to throw myself at him and tackle him to the ground, to pin him down, and pummel him until he had so many bruises he had to get more of his stupid salve.
My lip curled and I swung my arm out in a swiping grab, but Kit caught my wrist and spun me around. His brows were drawn, and his dark eyes were rife with concern.
Before he spoke, I rolled my eyes and let out a huff. “I know. No more kisses for me tonight.”
“Penny,” Kit began in the same tone as moments before. He worked his jaw and glanced after where Merrick had disappeared through the doorway into the next room. “Penny, you can’t… You’re scaring me.”
I swayed back, utterly baffled. How could Kit, with his strapping build and strong shoulders that put mine to shame, be afraid of me?
“I’m worried for you,” he continued. “Truly. Deeply. You indulging Merrick’s temper won’t end well for either of us, and I don’t… recognize you like this.”
The words stung, and his pained expression hurt far worse. But what he was asking, to sit back and let Merrick spit on us, was intolerable.
Still, my voice wavered as I asked, “Do you like me better a coward, Kit? Because I don’t like that at all. I don’t want to be weak, or small, or sedate. You told me I deserved better than the way Merrick treated me, and I’ll demand it if I have to. For both of us.”
Kit shook his head and released my arm. “Not for me. Leave me out of it. Merrick can treat me however he likes as long as it keeps his nose out of my business and he’s left to eventually lose interest and move on.”
In my experience, in all my life, Merrick never lost interest. He only got worse with time and fouler the better I knew him. But Kit didn’t linger to hear my rebuttal. He was already on his way to the dining room, leaving me to slink along after him like a kicked dog.
At the table, we settled into the two empty chairs opposite Merrick while Violette brought a freshly carved roast duck to the table. She swatted Merrick’s hand away when he reached for the serving fork, then she offered it to me instead.
I stared at the thing, half expecting her to turn it on me and plunge it into my chest. But when she insisted by thrusting it toward me again, I reluctantly accepted.
“Guests first, Merry,” she chided, returning to the counter for a bowl of glazed carrots and a tray of rolls. “Kit, Penny, would either of you like some wine?”
“No, thank you,” I mumbled as I plopped a few slices of duck onto my plate.
I passed the serving fork to Kit, who also waved off Violette's offer. “I’ll have water,” he said.
“I think we have a bit of whiskey, Kitten,” she pressed. “Isn’t that your vice of choice? You were practically raised on the stuff.”
I tipped my head toward Kit, remembering our first nights in Ashpoint when he’d put himself to sleep with liquor more often than not.
We still had a bottle in the cabinet, half-finished and, to my knowledge, untouched over the past few weeks.
I hadn’t given it much thought before now, but it seemed his appetite for the stuff had waned.
“My father’s vice,” Kit replied as he loaded his plate. “I try to avoid it.”
Violette bounced her shoulders, making the hem of her dress swish. “Suit yourself.” She set the rest of the food on the table and went back for the wine and water before finally settling in herself.
Not much was said as everyone began to eat.
I took longer than necessary to slice my portion of duck into cubes while occasionally stealing glances at Merrick.
He remained so focused on his plate that he might have glared a hole through it and the table.
He was clearly determined not to break the growing silence and, if I had taken anything away from Kit’s intervention, it was that I was best to keep my thoughts to myself, as well.
Finally, Kit himself piped up. “Have you heard from any of the other initiates yet? Has anyone come back?”
Violette waved her fork. “No one’s been as quick as the two of you.
Though we heard this afternoon that one pair was caught mid-dig out near Dalhurst. They were arrested and executed before we even got word.
” She grinned a shark-toothed smile and leaned toward us.
“Clearly not as skillful as you at bringing back bodies. That was a clever trick, splitting the bones up into supply crates.”
Kit shrugged, and there was a stiffness to the movement that made it seem less than casual. “Wasn’t going to risk getting caught with a casket in the cart. Seemed a logical solution.”
He was nonchalant, but something Violette said stuck with me, and I squeaked, “Executed?”
Merrick chortled. “That is the punishment for grave robbing, Penwell. What else did you expect?”
Ignoring his response, I turned my attention on Violette. “Who was executed? What were their names?”
It could have been Rosie and Tessa. The latter I wouldn’t have minded losing, but Rosie was my dearest friend in this place. I’d missed her since Kit and I returned. Our baking lessons were one of my favorite pastimes, and the thought of never seeing her again turned my blood cold.
Violette’s eyes rolled skyward, and she gave a contemplative hum. “Not sure. Young couple. Newlyweds, I think.”
“Cait and Edgar?” I asked.
Violette shrugged. “Sounds right.”
Relief at Rosie’s apparent survival mingled with a horrible sinking feeling. I’d barely touched my food and couldn’t fathom starting now as my stomach swirled with nausea. I set down my fork and glanced at Kit. He was pale.
Across the table, Merrick and Violette chewed their duck and sipped their wine.
“Will there be some sort of… service?” I asked. “A memorial?”
Violette laughed and reached across to pat my arm. “Aww, Merry, he’s precious.”
Merrick snorted and grumbled, “He’s a dunce.”
“No, Pretty Penny.” Violette shook her head. “Anyone who dies here is given to the Vessel. That’s a bit of a memorial, I suppose.”
“But Cait and Edgar didn’t die here,” I said.
So, there would be nothing.
A dozen more questions flooded my mind. Did their families know?
Both those in and out of Ashpoint? What would happen to their remains?
Their bodies would be burned, to be sure, but then scattered where?
More than any of that, I wondered if they’d been together at the end.
If they’d been able to reassure each other, or embrace, or even hold hands before their deaths.
A shiver shook me, and I pulled free of Violette to squeeze my arms around my middle. I’d never wanted to live alone. I cherished the idea of love and a partner long before I met Kit. The thought of dying alone was even more unbearable.
As if he could sense my distress, Kit slipped his hand onto my leg under the table. I moved as swiftly and discreetly as I could to grab it and squeeze. Merrick had gone back to glaring at his dinner plate, and Violette was topping off her wine glass when I called over to her.
“I think I would like a bit of that, after all.” I nodded to the carafe.
Kit’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, and it was all I could do not to crawl into his lap and sob. Violette seemed eager enough to share the drink, though, and filled my cup to the brim. I snagged it with my free hand and set to work nearly emptying the thing before she could even sit back down.
Quiet returned, interrupted only by the clinking of Merrick and Violette’s cutlery until Merrick set down his fork and folded his hands in front of him on the table.
“You know, Mister Koesters, while you were on the road, I had time to learn a bit more about you. There wasn’t much in the records, you see.
Your father seemed eager to erase you from our history and, my lovely wife and our Right Hand notwithstanding, not many who used to know you feel kindly about your abrupt and unexpected departure.
Or your equally abrupt and unexpected return. ”
He sat back in his chair and took up his glass, swirling the deep red wine inside.
“It seems you simply vanished after taking the first of your Oaths. Was the pain too much for you? Or were you aware then of what you refuse to acknowledge now, that you’re simply not strong enough to be one of us?
That you’re too cowardly to do what must be done, so you seek out old bones instead of fresh to soothe your misplaced guilt? ”
My chair screeched as I shoved it back and got to my feet, bracing both hands on the tabletop.
My stomach was still churning, and my heart was heavy with the news about the doting newlyweds we met on the road, but I loved Kit.
I loved him too much to hear him slandered.
Even if he was willing to tolerate the abuse, he didn’t deserve it.
“Kit’s a better man than you could ever hope to be,” I snarled. “And he’s no kind of coward. You’re the coward, telling lies about the militia and your rotations and your high rank while you scurry off here to lord about the place in your ridiculous getup.”
This was the crux of it. The truths I was supposed to ignore. I wasn’t sure what lies he’d told Violette or how deep his duplicity went, but she was about to find out.
“Does your lovely wife feel kindly about you keeping her a secret from your family?” I gestured to Violette, who smiled sweetly when Merrick glanced at her.
“I think not, since she never took your name. What about you sneaking away with Father’s remains and leaving me to believe it was my fault he was taken?
Did you care about him so little? Did you care about him at all?
” I stopped abruptly as my anger was overwhelmed by a fresh wave of grief.
“Did you care about us?” I asked and immediately regretted it. Of course he didn’t. The realization was profound to me, but Merrick didn't flinch.
“I gave him the highest honor possible,” Merrick snapped. “He is part of something bigger than all of us, you insolent—”
“Boys!” Violette shouted. “Enough, all of you. I did not spend all afternoon cooking this food just to have you,” she pointed at Merrick, her face stern but threatening a smile, “chase them off so it goes to waste.”
Merrick ground his teeth so hard I could have sworn I heard them creaking, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he downed the last of his wine. I sank back into my chair and did the same, then held the empty glass toward Violette in a wordless request for a refill. She beamed, more than happy to oblige.
I’d started in on the fresh pour, ignoring Kit’s pensive expression in my peripheral, when Merrick chimed in again.
“You know, Penwell, for someone who didn’t give a shit about his family’s livelihood, it seems you’ve found something you’re willing to raise a fuss over.” When his green eyes slid toward Kit, they narrowed. “Or someone.”
“Merry,” Violette groaned.
I shot out of my seat again and slammed my glass down so hard that wine sloshed out and splattered onto the tabletop.
“You mean our father?” My voice climbed toward a shout.
“All that honor you gave him? Yes, Merry, I’m more than willing to fuss about your deceit and your endless arrogance and your suffocating sense of self-importance. ”
“Penny…” Kit laid his hand on my arm and tugged, trying to ease me back into my seat.
While rage burned through me, Merrick remained frigid.
“I mean your unrequited love.” He tipped his chin toward Kit, who released me and sat back as though he’d been struck.
“It’s tiresome to watch, and gods, you are relentless.
Chasing after other men assuming they share your unnatural inclinations.
” He waved his hand through the air, appearing disinterested while spouting criticisms I should have been more steeled to after all these years.
“Some things are best kept secret, Penwell.” His gaze locked on mine. “And some people are better off alone. Though, maybe that’s the gods’ fine design, ensuring you won’t aid in the creation of another generation of deviants.”
Violette tittered a laugh while I stood silent and so stiff I thought the slightest movement would shatter me.
Kit’s chair slid back, and he rose as well, slow and measured like a predator staring down his prey. He braced his arms on the table, and every muscle in his body seemed to flex at once. I wondered how he could have ever found me frightening when he looked ready to break Merrick in half.
“You are absolutely despicable,” Kit snarled. “The only thing unnatural here is how you’ve dedicated half of your life to tormenting one of the kindest souls I've ever met. It's a testament to his strength that you didn't break him, and only a simpleton would keep trying.”
His words were muffled by the blood rushing in my ears, but I heard them all the same.
Any other time, I would have been elated to have him swoop to my rescue, but now I felt numb.
It wasn't enough to know I had something—finally had something—with Kit.
I should have grown calloused to my brother's condemnation years ago, but it struck a chord of pain in me so deep, so integral, that it rattled my very core.
The dining room blurred through a film of scalding tears, so I felt more than saw Kit's hand on my elbow as he pulled me into motion.
“Come on, Pen,” he muttered.
I turned into him, wanting to hide or cling on as we moved away from the table.
We were halfway to the front door when Violette's voice rang out. “You boys should come to dinner more often!” She cackled like a mad hen, then said to Merrick, who must have been stunned into silence, “What a lovely night.”
When Kit stopped long enough to swing the door open, I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. He didn't shoo me off, didn't push me away, just hugged my shoulders and placed a kiss on my temple before leading me into the dark street outside.