18. Sophie
Ididn’t want to open the letter from Miss Claris. I recognized the long, slanted script that reminded me of spider legs, so I’d left it on my desk where it remained staring at me. I knew what it said. Had I had regular marital relations with the general? No. Was I being a good wife to him? No. Had I been regularly taking the concoction for fertility? Also no. I didn’t see the point when there was no chance of the general coming to my bed before he left on his campaign. And then he might be dead.
She would say I was letting my family down. That I was being selfish. And if Kasten died, and there was no child, Father would take away my home and sell it again; I was certain of that much. But there was no way I could get pregnant right now.
And worse, Kasten would be dead. Our country needed him so badly if we were to win this war. This city needed him. He had kept so many safe and provided for. If he died, they would expect me to fill his shoes and protect them, but how would I stand up to Father?
I was going to fail at everything all over again.
I stared at the letter, and I hated everything it represented.
“My lady, are you all right?”
I turned. Lucy looked concerned. “You’ve been so quiet this morning.”
I forced a smile as Lucy handed me my shawl. “I’m just worried about the general. Callum said the campaign would be dangerous.”
Her eyes crinkled in sympathy. “If there is anyone who can survive, it’s the general, my lady. He’s had a lot of close shaves and always makes it home. He’s still young and fit and competent.”
I looked down. “I hope so.” I shook myself and stood. “We should go back to the gardens. I need to finish my project before everyone leaves.”
Lucy nodded enthusiastically. “It’s good to keep busy before the campaigns.”
I collected my gardening gloves and apron but didn’t bother with the parasol. I wanted to give Kasten a gift to take with him, and I had less than three weeks left. It was nice to spend more time outside and feel like I was doing something useful at the same time. And my little garden patch brought me so much joy.
The next morning, the letter was missing. I didn’t ask where it had gone, though the imagined words crawled under my skin.
Kasten
I roundedthe corner out of the east wing and pulled my shirtsleeves back down as I fiddled with the buttons. So much work was still undone, but I couldn’t spare a thought on anything but the campaign. Not now. Not even if another body was brought in from Adenburg. Callum had to focus on our survival, not Lord Lyrason’s games.
My mind kept returning to what we were going to face and what the king planned. Unease sat heavy in my chest with a sense of foreboding I had never had before. This was going to be the end. I could sense it.
Sir Cley hurried to my side; the older man was radiating agitated energy. Dust and sweat marked his leather jerkin in crusty waves. “General. Have you decided what to do about the east wing while we’re away? We don’t want anything discovered.”
I gave him a firm look. “A guard will be stationed there, and Meena will prevent Sophie from investigating. As far as she knows, it’s derelict.”
Sir Cley cleared his throat, and his awkwardness annoyed me.
“But, my lord, what if none of us return? She won’t stay out of it forever.”
I frowned and turned my attention forward, picking up the pace. “Meena will deal with it. I need your attention on the campaign, not worrying about my wife. Now, how is your battalion doing? Have they incorporated the new drills.”
He nodded, but he still looked uncertain. “They have but…” He sighed and ran his hand back through his sandy hair. Then he lowered his voice. “Kasten, I have a bad feeling about this.”
It was not like Sir Cley to be uncertain. I stopped walking and rubbed my chin. “I know. I know. They really mean it this time.”
“Part of me thinks you should have left me with Duke James.” He grabbed my upper arm. “We’ll fight for you until the very end. You know that, don’t you?”
I glanced back at his unusual sentimentality. “Yes.” I had no idea how I had won so many people’s loyalty only six years into this role, but it was clear.
The sharp peal of a bell, barely audible inside the castle made us both pause. Sir Cley looked toward the front of the castle. “Scout.”
I nodded. “Let’s see what he has to say.”
We rounded the corner, taking stairs two at a time. I was relieved that Sophie was nowhere in sight. I didn’t want her worrying about the campaign or the front lines. I didn’t want her sucked into this brutal world.
The scout rushed through the front door without bothering to remove his coat or gloves. Like most of our scouts, he was young with barely the shadow of stubble around his chin.
“General, General! It’s bad news!” He skidded to a halt in front of us and gave a belated salute, slapping his chest with two fingers outstretched. His head barely came up to my chest.
I braced myself, as every part of me became alert. “What is it?”
His large blue eyes were wild with terrified excitement. “It’s Whitehill. Whitehill has fallen.”
The bottom fell out of my world.
“Impossible,” I managed. “Whitehill is always well guarded.”
The boy shook his head. “I heard spies reported an attack was expected at Northreach. The king moved the men north as reinforcements. Whitehill didn’t have a full garrison.”
My blood ran hot then cold. Surely, he couldn’t have. That murderous traitor! To set a trap to kill me, had he really left an undermanned garrison to be slaughtered?
This was going to be the end indeed. But not just for us. Thousands would die.
Sir Cley had gone white. “If the enemy amasses at Whitehill, Kasomere is the closest city. The war might come into Fenland. General, if the rest of the armies don’t come to help, they could attack us right here.”
I gritted my teeth. “That is not going to happen. We will form a barricade on the road at Redcliff and fortify Lord Hans’s keep. We’ll hold them back. We’ll also keep a reserve here, just in case. We must contact Lord Hans at once.” His lands directly touched the border, including Whitehill, though the forts were controlled by the military. He was even more out of favor with the king than I was, his land barren except for a few small villages, but he commanded a full regiment and was Fenland’s first line of defense beyond the forts. Between us, we would have two and a half thousand men, and Redcliff was an easy spot to defend.
The thought that Sophie might be in danger from Kollenstar—that had never been my intention. The war had always stayed far to the northern stretch of the border.
I faced the scout. “Spread the news. We leave tomorrow at dawn.”
I went to break the news to Callum. He was going to be upset about leaving early. I didn’t know if all his preparations were ready, but it didn’t matter as much as stopping these soldiers from moving farther west.
Whitehill had fallen.
It was one of my nightmares come to life. Whitehill had always been an unbreachable certainty. And now that the enemy had it, they would likely keep it as a foothold for months to come, if not years. They would be well fortified there.
How could the king move the garrison? How could he risk this? Was he so determined to get me killed that he would happily hand over a part of his kingdom to those monsters?
After speaking to Callum, I went to the barracks and the drill square to bolster the troops. We had lived through nightmares before. Maybe, just maybe…
I could feel my worries bubbling under the surface, fears ready to rear their ugly heads when I was alone for the night and nobody was left to see. Nobody left to distract me. I would sweat and shake until the night was over, and then I would rise even more exhausted than before.
As dusk turned to night, and I was downing whiskey and putting off my attempt at sleep for as long as possible, the keeper of messages knocked on my door. He cradled the kryalcomy device only used in times of dire need to send messages straight from the king. The three colored lights flashed in a pattern over and over.
I raised my eyes to the trembling man. “What does he say?”
The man licked his lips. “The king orders you to take two regiments and reclaim Whitehill without delay. No matter the cost.”
My heart thudded. No blockades. No forts. No time to prepare. He wanted us to take back that impenetrable fortress with just two thousand men.
His trap snapped shut.
This was going to be a bloodbath.
Sophie
Kasten had come to me.
My heart beat loud in my chest as he stood motionless by the door, wearing chainmail under his long, smart coat. One hand rested on his sword. His tall broad figure would have been intimidating on any battlefield. Especially coupled with the sharp shadows of his face.
How had this come around so fast?
There had been so few times I had seen him, let alone talked to him, and the last two had been unpleasant. I felt the pressure to make every moment count, so I plastered a bright smile on my face as I walked toward him. Still, his severe expression didn’t change. I could feel his dark eyes burning into me, analyzing my every movement, but I refused to turn coy. What if this was the last time I ever saw him?
“My lord,” I started, stopping a few feet away from him. “Thank you for making the time to see me. I know how busy you are with having to mobilize the troops so fast.”
His expression didn’t soften, but his hand circled the hilt of his sword as if restless. “My lady, are you well?”
My smile grew more genuine. “Very well, thanks to your thought and care. You have given me many lovely gifts. The staff here are attentive and kind. The gardens are beautiful.”
A tiny bit of tension melted from his shoulders. “I came to say farewell before I return to the campaign. The king sent an urgent request last night.”
“Oh,” I tried to hide the disappointment as my heart sank at his abruptness and formality. I got the impression he wanted this conversation over with as quickly as possible. His hand continued to fidget on his sword. I still wasn’t sure why I made him so uncomfortable. Maybe all he cared about was the war and his people. But then, why had he gone to such lengths to make me feel welcome with the flowers and jewelry? Maybe he was simply kind. I’d seen so much evidence of this fact and not only directed toward me. Harsh but kind. I’d never known such a combination was possible.
I folded my hands neatly over my skirts and tried to stay optimistic. “When will you return, my lord?”
He looked into the shadowed corner of the room, the corners of his full lips angled down. “I don’t know. I fear I may not return at all. You know I don’t have the king’s favor. But if I don’t return, I’ve made arrangements to ensure a favorable future for you.”
My blood ran cold. Hearing the despair underlying his voice made me more scared than any conversation I’d had with Callum. I took a step forward so we were almost touching. “Don’t say things like that. Of course, you will return.” I made my voice firm and confident, trying to give him hope.
His expression hardened even further and my mouth dried. How did somebody so young manage to look so serious? So despondent. “While I am gone, Mistress Rose will work with you to help you run the estate as you see fit. You may instigate and change whatever you wish. Sir Jordan knows to come to you if there are any concerns in the wider city.”
The weight of his words settled over me. My eyes widened. “You’re putting me in complete charge of running your estates?”
“Yes. You’re my wife, are you not? Mistress Rose will teach you everything you need to know about running the castle that you don’t know already. In the event of my death, everything passes to you, but with certain conditions attached.” He held up a finger. “It will remain in your name only until your death when you may choose who to pass it on to. You must manage the estates personally.” He raised an eyebrow with an intense gaze layered with meaning. “It will not be possible for your father to take control of it. Or any future husband. Or the crown. You will be able to remain here and do as you wish.”
My heartbeat sped up. The air seemed thin. “I don’t understand.”
His voice quieted. “Be happy, Sophie. Don’t grieve for me.” His hand lifted from his side toward my face. I didn’t dare breathe, waiting for his skin to touch mine, but it stopped midair, hovering over my cheek. He lowered his eyes and turned to the door, his shoulders sagging.
It took me a moment to realize he was leaving and didn’t intend to say anything more. “Wait, please, my lord. One moment. I have two things for you.”
He stopped and half turned back to me, his eyes looking as narrow and sharp as ever. I hurried to untie the ribbon in my hair. I’d embroidered the green silk with tiny flowers a few weeks ago. He would probably find it trivial and silly, but I wanted to give him something to remember me by.
“My lord, will you wear this favor? I know you are going to a terrible place, but maybe this will remind you of happier times? It can be a tiny star in the endless darkness.”
He hesitated, then reached out to take the ribbon with such gentleness that my heart stuttered. He held it up to his face and examined the tiny flowers as if he didn’t find them silly at all. The lines around his eyes tightened. I wished for the hundredth time that I could tell what he was thinking.
I stepped right up to him and gestured to the ribbon. “May I?”
He nodded, his intense gaze back on my face. I swallowed and took the ribbon back from him, parting the lapels of his coat and tying it around the loop that fastened the top of his tunic across the chainmail. I could feel his breath on my cheek. I’d never been this close to him before. I looked up into the shadows of his eyes and heard his breath catch. “Promise me you will try to come home to me. Promise me you will fight death, not welcome it.”
His broad jaw tightened. “You need not act the role of a wife. Whether I am dead or alive, you have nothing to fear.”
I frowned. Everyone said he was brave and competent, but it sounded like he had already given up. “Promise me.”
He sighed, looking down. “I will not be a coward. I won’t hide from danger. But”—his eyes flicked up to mine—“if I have the chance to fight death, I will. I promise I won’t die willingly.”
Some of the tension left my body. “Thank you. I will hold you to that promise.”
Then I handed him the glass vial I’d been working on for the last week. I’d had to rush the final stage of processing this morning and borrow some plants from Tom. I wished I’d had longer to perfect the concentrations, but it was something.
I couldn’t meet his eyes again; there were too many intense emotions. “I made this for you—for the campaign. It’s a medicine. If you are injured, apply this to the wound. It will numb the area. It’s a fast-acting coagulant with antiseptic properties that will fight infection and rot. I’m sorry there’s not much. It took me a while to get the sweetwart to flower, and I had to borrow all of Tom’s. I still have so much to learn, but it’s enough to be of some use to you on the campaign. I hope it helps. Next time you must leave, I’ll have more time and skill to be of use to you.” I realized I was rambling and stopped, taking a step back. I took a deep breath, dragging my focus up. “And when you return, I hope we can get to know each other better.”
His eyes snapped back up to my face and he was silent, studying me intently for several moments before he stepped back, bowed his head, and left the room.
The last thing I noticed was the pale green ribbon fluttering against the dark hard lines of his military attire. I hoped I would see him again, whatever he believed. And maybe, in some small way, the vial of medicine might help him.
I waited by the window until the last of the soldiers had ridden through the inner wall and out of sight. Over a thousand men off to a war I could only imagine. I felt sick. Whatever anyone said, I was sure my husband was a good man. I wanted him to come home.