Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
AUDREY
H.S.D has returned and is reporting misdemeanors to D.V. Intercepting where possible. Rumors there are violent plans to take back control. Advise. —E to Man in the Mountain
La’Angi Keep
The buzzing had filled my head by the time I shut myself in my tower.
Isolde was ready to go looking for trouble with the ex-Head Steward’s people.
Thomas had been spotted making his way through the orchard and would be arriving tomorrow, complete with a cartload of children.
The cisterns in the four new community hubs were dug and leveled, or dug and about to be leveled.
Stone was on the way. I was sponsoring a young Healer to make the journey from a small fief south of Raider’s Ban to relocate to our fair city.
I was also sponsoring an old mage from La’Rea who specialized in fermentation mechanics, but they’d only agree to stay here for a season.
I hadn’t been able to find an apprentice who’d work under them.
Closer to home, the feelings in the castle were tense. Everyone knew what Daniel had done. Nobody liked him.
But it was made clear to everyone that he couldn’t mysteriously end up dead.
Especially to Isolde.
I dropped my books gracelessly on my desk, then headed toward the stairs, working on the clasp of my cloak.
He’d need to die. I hated that I couldn’t see another way forward.
Even if I cowed him in the short term the way I’d cowed the wealthy families—something I didn’t want to have to do, but was willing to—there was no chance he’d keep his mouth shut when my father got home.
That meant he had less than a half-year to live.
Every single misstep I made, every single error, would be itemized and reported upon.
There were enough of those, but he’d go and find near-misses and perhaps even strategic decisions and spin it as if my errors were more frequent, and more dire, than they were.
My father always had liked to hear about my mistakes.
You’ll never learn if you don’t accept your wrongs.
I couldn’t recall him saying that to me, but it was a phrase I’d heard him use often before punishing one of his men.
Anyone who protested was punished for resisting, not because he was cruel.
Because he was trying to help them learn.
Resistance to learning wasn’t acceptable.
When you’ve built on poor foundations, sometimes you have to rip the structure down to the stone beneath.
I paused, pressing my hand to the staircase pillar.
The room that had once been my mother’s solar was full of the late afternoon sun.
Her old bed sat in the center of the room, its elaborately carved posts revealed by the faded gold ropes that held the old drapes permanently open.
The spread was rumpled. Amongst the bedclothes, Elnyta was spread out, their dark hair half across the pillow and covering their face.
One sculpted arm was under their head, exposing a dark thatch of hair and vulnerable underside where the ink images on their skin were dark and clear.
They were leaving tomorrow with the turning of the tide.
My eyes went to the window, where the bay stretched to the horizon, quiet and still after the squall had settled.
We’d sat, eating a cold lunch and looking over their maps while the rain beat against the windows.
Elnyta had showed me the route they’d planned, explained their strategy of scavenging off drifting or wrecked ships.
They’d explained the dangers of boarding a vessel, the difficulty getting the loot to the Ally in good condition.
The stress, and then the days of boredom.
“That’s a long face, princess.”
I glanced back to my bed, trying to find a suitable expression. “I was lost in thought.”
“I’m glad I could find you.” They lifted the covers beside them, inviting me back in. “We’ve a few hours.”
We did. I thought of all the things I’d wanted to experience with them today.
Remaining on my list was to trial two different cocks, but I’d sampled enough today that I suspected the two remaining untried wouldn’t have the angle I preferred.
Even if I’d been keen earlier, the nausea in the pit of my belly and the reverberations of my father’s bootheels in my brain killed any joy I might’ve stolen.
There was next time. For that, I was grateful.
“Is there bad news?” Elnyta asked, sitting up.
I shook my head, then shrugged, because there was, I supposed. A mixture of news, some good, some concerning. Out and out bad? Probably not.
“What’s happened?” they asked, leaving behind my bed and reaching for their pants.
I hated that. I hated that the last of our time was being strangled by my father. The locways the steward gave air to might poison the growth I’d teased out of this city. I hated the worry in Elnyta’s hazel eyes and the dread that sat heavy in my limbs.
“You’re worrying me, princess. Are we in immediate danger? Hold up one hand for yes.”
I shook my head, feeling the rush of tears.
“They hit you in your big heart, didn’t they?” Elnyta sighed, pulling on their shirt. “Come here. Come on.”
I let them fold me into their arms and rested my cheek atop their head as they rocked me.
Every win was dangerous. Every win was something else he could take away.
“You got through dry-eyed and sharp-tongued, I’ve no doubt.” They squeezed me, their hands rubbing energetically. “Krakens don’t weep where their prey can see.”
I wasn’t a kraken. I wasn’t even an orca. I was a child who’d skipped too many lessons, and now I was wearing the skin of an adult expected to know the answers.
“I don’t think I’m a kraken,” I said, gathering myself.
They let me go, their expression soft. “Princess, there’s no such thing as krakens.
But people believe. Let them.” They wiped a tear from my cheek with hands that still smelt of me.
“They’ll make up elaborate tales and link unconnected events.
They’ll spin half-truths with lies and call it as honest as the day is long. ”
I blew out a breath. “You’ve never seen a kraken?”
“No one alive has ever seen a kraken. And yet we still talk about them.” They reached for their belt, continuing to dress. “If I told you I had seen one, you wouldn’t believe me. Not all the way. But a small part of you would wonder.”
“Probably.”
“There’s no probably. You would. You’re a realist, princess, but you’ve got room for hope too. Most of us do.” They stopped in front of me with their hands on their hips, that smirk on their face. “You going to end my hope,and tell me again you aren’t a kraken?”
I was so confused. They were being supportive, of that I was sure. “I’m lost again, Elnyta. Why don’t we go down to the docks and you can give me a tour of your ship.”
They cocked their head, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve already toured most of the best bits. Is this a ploy to get rid of me? Because I can find my own way out if you’ve things you need to do.”
“If by ‘things’ you’re referencing all the worries I need to stew in?” I asked, shooting for humor.
Apparently, I hit it, because they grinned. “That was exactly what I meant, princess.” They turned to scoop up their vest. “I gather the meeting didn’t go well.”
“The meeting went as well as I expected.” Mayhap that was the wrong information, because they sent me another amused look that felt mismatched to my comment. “The previous steward has returned. He deserted at the start of the plague. His attendance will…complicate things.”
“Want me to slip with my saber?” they offered, as they reached for it.
They didn’t seem serious, but I knew I’d worry if I didn’t ask more questions. “That’s a very kind offer, and one I hope was intended in jest.”
They snorted. “Yes, Audrey, it was a jest. We both know you don’t need me for my steel.” They picked up my mastodesmos, the laces dangling through only one eye. “Haven’t seen one of these so far south. Much less on any noble woman. Explains how you’re so good in the saddle.”
“You’ve never seen me—” I swallowed the rest of what I was going to say, seeing the double-meaning, and the jest, in the words. “You going to help me get laced again?”
They sighed. “I suppose I am. I thought it was your knight, at first. I heard he’s from up north.”
“I’m sorry?” I shrugged off the outer layers, pulling on the supple leather. I missed the air against my skin, but the leather, and the consistent squeeze that would come, was better than the rasp of fabric or, worse, the bite of a corset against bare skin.
“From the Steppes,” they said, finishing dressing as I started to feed the lace through the eyes loosely. “But, after sleeping on it, I recalled your maid using a few little turns of phrase. What’s a nomad doing in La’Angi, serving you, princess?”
Have you heard of the prophecy? Well, it’s because she doesn’t want peace ever after as promised. We’re halting it. Somehow. She’s light on details. Also, she hates the locways.
“It’s a long story.”
“I do like them best,” they said, pulling on their boots. “What tribe was she?”
The realization that they’d assumed she was a steppe warrior but not Matri’sion hit me suddenly. I felt a strange tension deep in my chest. I didn’t like lying to this person.
“She doesn’t talk about it,” I said. No lie, but it was a truth built upon a misunderstanding.
“I was born of the Black Snake,” they offered, coming over to help with my laces. Their fingers were strong and sure. “Ask her if she knows any of my people, next time she feels talkative.”
I thought of the jagged scars on Isolde’s arm, the fury in her eyes, the bridled rage in her movements.
“I will.”