Epilogue #2
“You’re damn right it is. Look at you, smiling like a bleeding fool.
You’ve had that goofy expression on your face since the beginning of summer.
” Waylon threw his arm around Faron and lowered his voice, “The servants have started to wonder if you fell off your horse and hit that giant head of yours.”
Oh, Faron had fallen all right. From the moment he’d caught Talwyn whirling on an apparition, a dagger in each hand, he’d been desperate to catch her attention.
He nearly killed himself trying to impress her when he jumped off that roof the night he first heard her laugh.
He’d spoken truthfully under the willow.
One glimpse was all it took. His heart was lost to her.
Faron didn’t bother telling any of this to his friend.
Waylon had teased him countless times the past two months over how quickly he fell for the bounty hunter.
Each time, Faron just smiled and agreed that he never stood a chance.
“I’m not convinced you aren’t just trying to further anger your father,” he said instead.
They reached the kitchens and slipped in through the servant’s entrance.
Faron nodded to each person as they bowed, letting him pass.
Waylon walked past them without a glance.
He grabbed an apple from a bowl and leaned against a long stone counter while Faron gathered a basket of food.
“Can’t I find love and become a disgrace at the same time? ” he said around a mouthful.
Faron placed as many desserts as he could into the basket, taking extra care to grab two more custards for Tal.
He hid them under the rest of the food and placed the bouquet of flowers on the top.
He imagined the way she would purse her lips, calling him a hopeless romantic for bringing her flowers but not the custard she loved so much.
He couldn’t hide the smile that pulled at his lips thinking of how he would tease her once she found the dessert.
When Faron didn’t respond, Waylon asked quietly, “What would your parents have thought of her?”
The question hung between them. He didn’t ask with spite in his tone. Waylon’s father had tried to leash his son from the moment he could walk, to mold him into some vision only he could see. And Waylon had spent his whole life rebelling.
“Mother would have lost her mind over a lady in trousers.” Faron’s face softened thinking of how she would waste no time teaching Tal an appreciation for finer fashion.
His father would love her, naturally. “Father would have been fascinated by her skill with a dagger,” he added, knowing the former king would ask Tal to teach him to throw.
He wished they could have met her, just once.
Faron knew, even if he was king, they would approve of her.
Waylon lowered his apple, as if reading Faron’s thoughts. “We’ll figure out a way to get the council off your back. You’re the fucking king! They can’t force you into anything.”
Faron leaned back against the counter beside Waylon.
“You’d think that would count for something.
” His exhale betrayed the exhaustion he’d been masking since his first night visiting the docks.
“I’ll send Jens to the mountains in the morning.
Father’s journals mentioned rumors of fire and steel.
If steel is what Gregor wants, I’ll bleed the damn hills dry.
” He refused to consider a future where he would bend to the council’s demands.
Connell may have the most respected opinion of all the council members, but there had to be a different way.
Any alliance with the eastern kingdom would come at a cost to Meladair, and Faron wouldn’t be their willing sacrifice.
And speaking of alliances, he couldn’t forget to send the stable hand to intercept a correspondence from the western kingdom.
He expected their letter to arrive any day.
A heavy silence hung between them, and Faron knew it was more than just worry for him that plagued his friend’s thoughts.
They hadn’t spoken since Tal’s rescue, hadn’t discussed what happened to Ed.
Waylon had claimed his father was keeping him busy, but he had never obliged the old man for more than a few days.
“What happened to Ed was not your fault.” Faron stared ahead as he spoke.
Waylon stiffened.
“Whether it was myself beside him or Jens, or anyone. There was nothing you or any of us could have done. And Tal doesn’t blame you.”
“Saying it and believing it are two very different things, brother.” Waylon’s voice held every bit of self-loathing Faron knew he had directed at himself since the attack.
He turned and gripped Waylon’s shoulder. “Then we’ll spend every moment reminding you.”
Before they left the kitchens, Faron passed a note to one of the servants, instructing Daire to meet him on the west wall at midmorning.
For the last week, the captain kept his word and fed false information to the council while relaying their instructions back to his king.
It did nothing to change Faron’s opinion of the man.
Faron didn’t consider himself violent, but every time he met with the captain, he remembered Daire’s sneer when he spoke to Tal after her capture.
If he hadn’t been useful, Faron would have welcomed the pain of breaking every bone in the man’s face with his bare hands.
He would even gladly sit back while Tal let her fury consume him.
The only thing keeping him alive was the possibility that the information he gathered might lead them to whomever sent the mages after Tal.
Once his purpose was fulfilled, Faron would find a new captain.
The pair made one last stop at the tanner’s for the gift he’d been planning.
The wolves destroyed Tal’s old holster for her axes.
So, he had a new weapons belt made from the hide of the boar they’d killed.
It was sentimental, but he knew Tal would see its practicality.
The belt would be her favorite gift, of course, followed directly by the custard.
She was a woman of action, and he was the poor sod who couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
As they passed through the gates, Faron peered northeast to the willow tree, as he did every time he exited the grounds.
It was a habit—one he convinced himself was for good luck.
He had done so the first night he saw Tal and had every day since.
He blinked when his eyes found the massive trunk.
Under its swaying leaves stood a figure—a woman, if the height and long hair were any indication, but the willow was too far for him to discern anything further about her.
In all the days and nights Faron had looked to the tree, he had never seen anyone beside its trunk.
As its leaves swayed in a wind Faron had no doubt carried the salty brine from the Taralin, he could have sworn one of the branches bent down to the woman’s face.
He blinked, convincing himself the distance was playing tricks.
A moment later, he lost sight of the woman as she descended the large hill.
“I could have retrieved these things for you.” Waylon pulled Faron’s attention away from the willow.
Faron gave his friend an easy grin. “And let you take all the credit? Not a chance.” They made their way to Gale’s with a basket of food, a bouquet of flowers, and a boarskin belt in hand.
Despite the outcome of the meeting, Faron’s duties for the day were fulfilled, and he would spend the night with his friends and the most incredible woman he’d ever met.
Tomorrow, he would try to solve the kingdom’s problems. Tonight, his only hope was to see the stubborn bounty hunter smile.