Chapter 5
Rowan
I am a man of routine.
And I like it that way.
I like to feel prepared, to feel in control.
But this red-haired mystery is making that difficult.
The second she appeared in the training yard yesterday, everything changed. I knew the king would be paranoid and likely place her under close surveillance. What I hadn’t expected was him placing her in my wing of the castle. That room has been empty since — no, not going there.
The king asked for discretion and to keep gossip to a minimum, but that’s pretty impossible.
Especially since that gate has been sealed for years.
I’ve guarded that gate for longer than I can remember.
I did my duty and brought her to the King, just as I’m expected to.
But the questions still plague my every waking hour.
How did she get through?
Why is she here?
I trust her words. She claims no one sent her here. She appeared scared and confused, and I’ve observed liars. I’ve killed them. Traitors. Enemies. It’s my job to protect the castle and this kingdom. She flinches at raised voices, but not at drawn steel. And that intrigues me.
I stare down to my right, watching Elodie finish the last of her breakfast. She’s made a small pile of blueberries from the ones she’s picked out of her pancakes.
“We have training every morning before the knights go about their daily duties,” I say, taking both our plates and piling them on top of each other.
She swallows her last bit of food, peering up at me.
“Oh. Is that where I was yesterday, training?”she asks.
“Yes,” I reply. “Follow me. Stay close. No wandering.” She nods at me, following me out the door and into the training yard. Explaining to her how training normally goes, I gesture for her to stand to the side. Instructing her to stay quiet and blend in with the background.
As if someone like her ever could.
Shaking my head, I don’t have time for thoughts like that. The knights all enter the yard, some alone, others in their usual groups. Once training starts, it’s the same as always, except for a few knights who seem to have a death wish.
“She’s bad news… I’m telling you. I can feel it.” One of the junior knights mutters to his friend.
“How did she even get through? Is she here on purpose, do you think?” the other guy responds, lowering his voice. I ignore them at first, correcting another knight’s stance but remaining close to listen.
“Well, I don’t care how she got here. Bet I could show her a good time, though.”
I move on reflex.
“Drop your weapon,” I order the knight, my gaze fixed on him. He drops it gently to the floor, raising both hands in the air.
“I uh… I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t…” he stutters, face flushing crimson.
“You didn’t what?” He looks behind me at the girl before returning his gaze to me.
“I’m sorry, Sir, we were just-”
“Leave.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies, before bending to pick up his weapon and rushing out of the yard.
I turn back to look at Elodie, who isn’t looking at me, but stealing glances at the stone archway she came through.
I wonder what she’s thinking. Carrying on with my training, I choose to ignore Kael, sensing his presence beside me.
“You want to tell me what that was about?” Kael murmurs.
“The King said she’s a closed topic. I’m just following orders.”
“Right,” he says, drawing out the word unnecessarily.
Ignoring him, I cast my attention back to the girl, who is no longer sitting where I left her.
I move briskly past Kael, disregarding whatever words he is currently spewing at me, my eyes searching the sea of armour.
It doesn’t take me long to spot her fiery red hair, its strands rippling as they catch the soft wind.
She stands out like a flame against cold steel.
Approaching her slowly, I cross my arms and watch her briefly as she tries to touch the stone.
“It won’t work,” I say, catching her off guard. She jumps, eyes startled, and faces me.
“What do you mean?”
“The gate. It doesn’t work like that,” I say, gesturing at her hands grazing along the broken stone arch.
“I just…I thought that maybe…” she says before pulling her hand away, her fists clenched tightly. “I had to try. I’m sorry,” I hesitate, but something about her expression makes me answer,
“It’s sealed shut and we no longer have the key.”
“The key? What’s the key?” she asks.
Before I can reply, Kael appears behind her. I nod at him as he moves in behind her to push her back to where I left her. “I said no wandering, Hawthorne. You’ll do well to obey.” She doesn’t respond, simply folding her arms and giving me a defeated look.
If she doesn’t know the key, how the hell did she get through?
“Rothwyn, thank you for coming,” the King declares, gesturing his steward out of the room. “I trust our new arrangements with the girl are under control?”
“Yes, sir,” I respond with a nod.
“Good. Unfortunately, I have made no progress with the investigation surrounding the girl,” he says.
I can’t help but notice the dark bags under his eyes, his hair disheveled as if his hands have been tugging at it too much.
“That is unfortunate, sir.” I reply.
I knew he wouldn’t learn much from his investigation.
I spoke to several knights myself. Checked old gate logs for any accounts of prior ‘incidents’. Nothing.
“Have you made the girl talk?” he asks.
“Talking is not an issue, sir,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she doesn’t have a problem with talking. She talks a lot.”
“About what?”
“Not much of importance. Mostly about her life back where she came from.”
“So you believe her? You don’t think someone sent her?” He stiffens.
“I believe she is not a threat to this castle, nor your people, sir.”
“What has she told you of her life?”
I hesitate to answer, which makes me question myself in more ways than I want to admit out loud. This kingdom. This castle. It’s all I know, and serving as High Warden, it’s an honour I would die for.
So why am I hesitating?
I suppose because I know what I’m about to tell him will probably change everything.
“She mentioned she was a botanist. Plant science, she said.”
The King's eyes snap to mine in understanding. “A botanist?” he repeats slowly, as though testing its weight. His fingers tightening on the window ledge. “Are you sure?”
“That’s what she said, sir.”
“That cannot possibly be by chance. Either this is divine providence, or someone believes I am a fool.” Deciding not to respond, I remain quiet, watching his expression as he stares out the window. “Find out more about her, Rothwyn.”
Nodding, I move towards the door, but before I can exit, the king’s voice echoes through the room.
“And Rothwyn,” he says. “She is here by my grace. Do not forget that. If she proves useful, I will require your cooperation, as always.” He looks at me then, his eyes testing me. “If she does not, I will require your obedience.”
I swallow, steadying myself before I turn the corner to my wing.
The sound of laughter causes me to still.
Laughter so real it doesn’t belong here.
I stop just short of the door, remaining in the archway's shadow, telling myself I’m only listening for anything out of place.
The soft scrape of chess pieces carries through the door, followed by Kael’s unmistakable laugh and then something lighter, softer.
Elodie’s laugh, unguarded in a way I haven’t heard from anyone in a long time.
I don’t move. I should announce myself, stop lurking, but something grounds me.
She laughs again, and I wonder what's making her laugh so much.
“You are a force to be reckoned with, plant girl.” I hear Kael say. Knocking on the door as I enter, they both look at me.
“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour,” Kael says, grinning as he leans back in his chair, meeting my stare. “Elodie just beat me at chess, not once, but twice in a row.” He drops his queen down on the board in surrender and grins at her.
“I warned you I’m good at chess,” she replies, her face flushing a slight pink.
“Well, next time I’ll believe you, but if this was a drinking game, I’d have you under the table by the second round.” They both chuckle.
“Commander Rook, I believe you’re needed elsewhere,” I say.
Kael opens his mouth, but thinks better of it. Pushing back his chair,
“Right. Duty calls,” he mutters, shooting an apologetic look at her before glaring at me. “Later, plant girl.” He waves at her before mumbling to me, “Sleep well, grumpy.” He taps me on the back before heading out and closing the door with a loud bang.
The room immediately feels colder, the faint hum of the wind outside seems louder now.
“Need I remind you that you are still under investigation? Until we know what to do with you, playing chess with my Master-at-Arms should not be a priority.” My tone comes out harsher than I intend, but the damage is already done. She looks at me, her eyes going wide as she shrinks into herself.
“Right. Sorry,” she says, rubbing the bridge of her nose. I turn to head into my room before her voice breaks the silence.
“Actually. If you don’t mind me saying…” I pause, my hand on the doorframe.
She takes a breath, steadying herself. “I didn’t ask to be here.
” I turn to her slowly. She continues, her words coming out faster now like she’s afraid she will lose them if she stops “One minute I was at work, doing my job, a job that wasn’t even meant to be mine, might I add,” she gestures with her hands.
“And the next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of your training yard with dozens of swords pointed at me.”
Her hands curl into the fabric of her sleeves, her breathing uneven and her cheeks flushed. I remain silent, letting her continue what she clearly has been needing to say since she arrived.
“My whole life is gone. My home, my friends, my job. Everything I know is gone.” Her voice breaks, her eyes glistening. “And I wake up every morning hoping this is all some dream, or someone will tell me it’s all a mistake,” she looks at me then. Really looks at me.
“So you can say I’m not a prisoner here, but don’t think I’m stupid.
I am no better than one. I am simply trying to survive here until I can find a way home.
” She releases a long breath and swipes at her face before looking away and clearing the chessboard from the table.
I let her admissions hang in the air. Her hope of returning home fills me with a feeling I’m not sure how to describe.
“You are not the only one who’s lost things, Hawthorne. I didn’t ask for this either.” I regret it instantly, seeing the way her features soften and her arms cross over her body.
“But for what it’s worth,” I add. “That suits you better than apologising.”
“What does?”
“The anger.”
Her eyebrows seem to knit together, her mouth opening as if to respond before she seals it shut. Staring at me with those blue eyes. Not waiting for her response, I turn and withdraw into my bedroom, closing the door with a click behind me.
Distance is protection.
Cruelty is control.
I just don’t know who I’m protecting anymore.