Chapter 45
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAY
And to he who works the hardest go the greatest spoils.
—The Book of Bread and Salt
10th Day of Autumn’s Son Moon,
Age of the Locways, Year 272
La’Angi Keep
There wasn’t going to be anything simple about the rest of this moon. I stood by the door to her meeting room, listening to the rise and fall of her voice through the door. She always sounded calm and reassuring.
It was another mask, the replacement for the polite submission she’d worn like armor.
Now it was all about welcome, it was all about presenting a competent, reliable front.
But I didn’t know what she looked like when it slipped.
Had that changed, too? Or did her eyes still fill up with gratitude and her long mouth still curve upwards softly at the corners, or press downward in worry?
Three men left, an elder man leaning heavily on the arm of his son.
“She’s not betrothed,” he said, with the volume of someone who’s hearing wasn’t reliable.
“No modesty, but strong enough to throw sons. Look into it. Those brains of hers’d be wasted on nobility.
Give me someone worth passing our line onto!
Let the Butcher keep his lands and find another heir! ”
I saw the look the two younger men exchanged. I didn’t know how much sway their family had or what their business was, which alone meant they weren’t important enough to be trying for her hand.
Not that any of that would be relevant soon.
Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I reminded myself of my role.
Keep her safe.
She wanted to fight the Butcher herself.
Bile rose at the thought of how that would end. She was good with a blade. Damned good. I’d never seen the man fight. He was a general, not a warrior, but he’d carved his way through the ranks of his betters to claim that position.
He was old and out of practice. She stood more than a good chance, if she could keep her head.
But then, in the aftermath? The man who’d fathered her wasn’t going to give her what she needed. Not in his life, and not by his death.
I knew I couldn’t, either.
Damned if I was going to let any harm come to her.
The subject of my thoughts emerged from the doorway.
I struggled not to start at her sudden appearance.
She wore a single-shouldered shirt today.
One big, flowy sleeve covered her left hand.
Ink marked her right. There were fine bruises on the inside of her left wrist that shirt was concealing.
I knew because I’d stared at them this morning when she hadn’t known I was looking.
I’d left those marks on her. Because she wouldn’t slow her pace. Twice a day we were sweat-drenched. She pushed and pushed until her hands shook when she drank and water spilled over her face, and only then was it enough.
I’d told her she couldn’t assess her progress when she was so exhausted. I told her it wasn’t sustainable.
But I’d never tell her it wasn’t necessary.
“There’s guests,” she told me, as I fell into step beside her.
The rare explanation made me hungry for more. “Oh?” I asked.
She sent me a quick, apologetic look. “Sorry. There’s always guests arriving, isn’t there? I’ve got a brief break. Allison is making copies and corrections of a few documents, so I thought, why not pop out and get into the sunshine?”
The sunshine she referred to was sporadic shafts of light through heavy clouds. She’d planned for rain for the faire, given the fickle weather of the season. She’d planned for everything, except her own rest.
And, I was starting to suspect, her own future.
“Have you had anything to drink?” she asked. “We can stop off to the kitchens? Actually, I should swap you and Thomas.”
“I’m fine.” I’d prepared for the boring duty of standing by her door. After all, there had been fighting in these halls. It felt like only yesterday the old Steward had returned and so briefly set everything upside down.
There was no way that man’s death was natural.
“I like the quiet,” I admitted to her. “There aren’t many quiet corners left in La’Angi.”
She laughed. It was a warm, inviting sound.
It was fake.
I’d heard her snort-giggle. I knew the way her eyes would slide over to me and sparkle, the way they’d look in shock and amusement.
This wasn’t the same woman who’d sat across from Ylva and pined for the rebel princess, whilst being simultaneously unable to flirt.
She was in there, somewhere. Hidden by layers of silk and silver, now, polished to a high shine. The claws might be sheathed in velvet, but they were clearly still present. She didn’t apologize nearly as much as she used to.
She’d apologized to me, just before. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was good, bad, or indifferent.
“Of course,” she agreed, with an air of finality.
“I don’t mean your quiet,” I told her. It was lost as a servant saw her and waved to us both, telling us about the honey puddings she’d been smelling in the kitchens.
It was for the best. I’d proven I wasn’t safe to share her space, not in the quiet or the busyness. Not the grief, or the celebration.
She didn’t say another word to me the whole way to the bailey.
She paused by the open door, lifting a hand to shade her eyes from the sudden light. I stepped past her, knowing damned well she could defend herself, but also knowing she wasn’t thinking like a woman who was filling her home with possible enemies.
The bailey was full of sunlight, though the city beyond was gloomy. In addition to being well lit, the bailey was also full of people and horses.
I knew them.
I knew those people.
I knew those horses.
My heart in my throat, I saw Kadan, already out of the saddle, already in motion.
His face was lined where it hadn’t been before.
He’d aged more than a year should’ve aged him.
As he walked, his gait was an awkward one, his body dipping on one side.
From the corner of my eye, I noted his crushed leg had been replaced by a prosthetic.
But it was the grin he wore, and the sheen of tears in his eyes, that I couldn’t look away from.
Audrey passed me and I was freed from the shock that had held me trapped.
He shouldn’t be here.
He was here.
Audrey reached a hand backward, toward me. It didn’t touch me. I felt its lack keenly, but from far away. “Well come,” she was saying, her smile wide. “I’ll greet you all properly this evening. Chay, I’ll find Thomas.”
I was caught up in Kadan’s arms. He smelled like salt and smoke.
The terror of the plague, the grief, the loss, the fear. And he was here.
He was here, and he was okay.
In my arms, he let out a laugh that was half-sob.
“Wild horses, you’re huge, brother.” He clung to me like a drowning man.
“I’ve missed you. Everything’s gone to shit without you.
” He shook his head aggressively, pulling back.
“No, everything’s gone to shit, and I haven’t been able to complain to you. ”
I let him go, throat too thick to speak.
“I’m probably tarring and feathering you all over, aren’t I?” he asked, wiping his face and looking around.
Lance was waiting on the peripheral, a walking stick in his hands. Seeing me looking, he bowed to us. “Is this yours, m’lord? It was near the stall of the big black.”
“It is. I was in a hurry.” Kadan took it, smiling at the boy. “His name’s Bravura, but be warned, he’s not a pleasure horse.”
“Lance is good,” I told Kadan. “He handles Bliksem most days, and does an excellent job of it, too.”
Lance went red to his ears and vanished. I knew Kadan had people to manage the horses. I also knew he rarely relied on them.
It was Sandra who was there to welcome them.
She didn’t bat an eye to see me standing awkwardly in Audrey’s colors with Kadan’s saddlebags over my shoulder being greeted like a newcomer.
If she was worried I was there to check on her performance, she gave no sign of it.
Whatever warm welcoming persona Audrey had taken on had infected the girl, too.
We were greeted, given a verbal itinerary as she walked us along halls, and approximate directions to the primary hubs being used—the small hall, which was still in use regardless of how low candles burned if anyone was hungry, the main hall, the market and the gardens.
It was surreal to walk beside Kadan, to hear Callum’s performative foolishness, to know that somewhere Darrius was lurking and that he’d pop up when he was needed to distribute nuggets of wisdom.
Anxiety clawed at my belly. Had Audrey known they were coming and saved it as a surprise? I could see no other reason. She’d clearly taken the time to effectively hand me into Kadan’s keeping. What did that mean?
Did she secretly, deep down, still have a kernel of some sort of love for me?
The thought, paired with the company of my old friends, made me float along corridors that felt like home, now.
The rooms they were given were some of the best. They’d get the cool sea breeze and overlook the garden. As Kadan walked in, the shafts of sunlight speared in through the windows, lighting it up beautifully.
That anxiety kept on gnawing, no matter how happy I was. We didn’t think the Duke would return during the tourney, but we didn’t really know.
As Sandra passed over a ring of keys to Kadan, I stopped her and asked, quietly, “Can you check the lady found your pa?”
“Orvald had people out looking, but Kaelson and Drae stepped in,” she assured me, with a quick curtsey. “He was called out to help settle a disturbance in the market not too long ago, so he’ll probably meet us in the hall this evening.”
I hesitated. “Can we spare Kaelson?”
She shrugged. “Audrey says it’s fine. You’ve a busy schedule for days, Chay. Stop worrying.”
That was possibly the worst thing to tell someone who was worrying, but I didn’t let her know that. She waved to us and left, the keys chiming on her belt.