Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAY
“When entertaining a guest, do not make hasty decisions, for your husband, father, or brothers will have information you will not, and they have not the time to share it. One must look to the head of one’s table for guidance.”
~ Etiquette in Arcanloc
T he shadows got long. Or my eyes made them warp. I ran through scenarios in my head helplessly as I paced, things that could’ve gone wrong. She’d been caught. Her throat was cut. She’d fallen and hurt herself. She’d been caught and was trying to escape. She was too sick and weak to make it home and was dying in the shadows of a seedy inn.
How long could I keep the prisoner waiting? In the end, I stood grimly and left her tower to return to them. Too long would only make them suspicious. I’d get them gone and then check one last time before trying to retrace her steps.
Having a plan made me feel better. I strode swiftly through corridors and found the guard where I’d left him and our prisoner as sullen as I’d seen him last. Had it been hours? Minutes? I couldn’t be sure. “The lady is busy,” I told them both. “She’ll see you on the morrow, sir.”
“Dungeons?” the guardsman asked me, hefting himself up.
I hesitated. I doubted Audrey would throw him in the dungeons. “She didn’t say,” I admitted, because it felt unfair to do otherwise. I could put him in Ylva’s room, but I hadn’t heard whether anyone had even noticed she was gone yet. “But, given the situation, it feels like the best choice for today. Make sure he’s got a blanket and warm food, though,” I reminded the guard, just in case.
He nodded and brought the man to his feet. The bandit shot me an angry look but didn’t fight against it.
The ground flew beneath my feet on the way back to her tower. It definitely looked darker, but no one was calling the hour, of course. They were all transporting food and supplies to the hospital we now needed to collapse and relocate.
How close was it really to nightfall? With the thick cloud cover, the light was deceptive, and the hours seemed to take on a life of their own. I opened the door to Audrey’s rooms and had to stop myself from running through the whole place again. The only wet footprints were my own.
That decided it. I went back to the hearth and banked it high. When I got her back—and I would—she’d need the heat.
Damn it. We hadn’t needed her interference! I flew from the hearth to the side room, opened my bag, and stripped off my wet shirt, tossing it aside. I’d need an oiled cloak—not for myself, but for her. I refused to even look at the modest first-aid kit I carried with me. If she needed it desperately, then it wouldn’t be enough anyway.
At least it would be easy to sneak out of the keep, I thought grimly, ignoring my tabard as I tightened my belt over a fresh shirt. No one was watching us, anyway.