Chapter 8
Rowan
“Do you think she can do it?” Kael asks me, crossing his arms over his chest. The common room door groans shut behind us, sealing away the chatter of voices and the warmth.
Out here, the corridor feels narrower and colder.
Orb light trembles along the stone walls.
With my hands firmly behind my back, I fix my gaze into the distance, on the small trail leading to the glasshouse.
His question should have a straightforward answer.
No, the kingdom is dying.
There is no way to fix it.
We know this.
Scholars have tried for years. The people have lost all hope.
“You’re hesitating,” Kael says, a smirk forming.
“I’m thinking.”
I spot Thomas approaching across the courtyard, Elodie walking beside him. She’s smiling at something he said, and something tightens in my chest at the sight of it.
“I rarely see you at the commons in the evenings.” Kael remarks.
“It works better for everyone this way,” I say.
“You could have stuck to your routine, left her with us for the evening commons,” he says, side-eyeing me.
“I could have, yes.”
“But you didn’t,” he says. Elodie spots us watching and gives us both a small smile. Kael taps my shoulder with a wink before stepping forward to greet Elodie.
He’s right, I could have carried on as normal.
Had other people look after her, avoid her as much as possible.
I told myself I didn’t want others being in charge of her because I am responsible for the safety of this castle.
That I couldn’t take any risks. But that wasn’t it.
It was the look on her face when she spotted the glasshouse.
The people of this castle, this kingdom.
They see that place as a failure, a reminder of an old life.
But Elodie lit up.
“Sir,” Thomas announces, saluting me and stepping aside for Elodie.
She steps under the archway, moving into my space.
The smell of damp earth and crushed leaves fills my senses.
She has to tilt her head to look up at me, reminding me how small her frame is.
I think about asking the Runesmiths to bind some armour for her, but I dismiss it as quickly as it came.
“Your junior knight here has been very helpful,” she says to me, giving a small wink at Thomas, who seems to blush instantly under her gaze.
“Just following orders, sir,” he blurts. Kael takes this opportunity to tease him about his obvious attraction to Elodie.
“Thomas, your duty was to watch the glasshouse. Not interfere with anything Miss Hawthorne needs to do,” I say, my voice more agitated than I mean it to be. Elodie shakes her head, placing a hand over her chest.
“Oh, no, it’s okay. Really, I would rather have the company,” she says, mouthing an apology to Thomas. I don’t respond.
The silence is deafening.
Kael’s voice rips through the quiet corridor.
“Ok well, this is great communication here, guys. Seriously.” He throws both his hands up in jest. “But I will have to stop you there. We are all headed to The Cup.” He places a hand behind Thomas’s shoulder, urging him along, and glances at me and Elodie. “Plant girl, care to join us?” he asks.
“She hasn’t eaten yet. She won’t be joining,” I say. Elodie folds her arms over herself and sends Kael a small wave before turning to me.
“I’ll head to the room,” she says, turning to leave. But something in me loses its resolve. “Wait,” I whisper. She stops dead in her tracks, turning to face me with a look of fear. “You will eat in the food hall tonight with me. It saves me bringing the food up to you.”
“Right, of course,” she says under her breath.
“Let’s go, Hawthorne.”
She doesn’t move straight away, studying me instead. Searching my face for something I don’t intend to give her. She steps into stride beside me, quiet for half a corridor.
“I found a rustcap today,” she says, breaking the silence. I glance at her, unsure why she’s telling me this.
“Did you?”
“Yes.” She tucks her hands into the sleeves of her tunic. “In one of the soil beds. It was really cute. I’ve seen nothing like it.”
“I haven’t seen one in years.”
“Thomas said most of them died off.”
“They did. It’s rare to get close enough to see one.”
“Well, it sat by my side all afternoon.” That makes me stop.
They are very timid creatures. They flee or burrow into the soil if they so much as sense a person approaching.
“You’re certain?” I ask.
“Yes,” she nods, as if this were entirely reasonable. “I was clearing the dead leaves and it just… stayed. Just watched me.”
“Rustcaps do not watch,” I say flatly. She smiles faintly.
“Well, this one did.” The doors to the food hall loom ahead. Pushing one open, the conversation dips briefly as we enter. She doesn’t notice, though. “Maybe it liked me,” she continues, following me. “I wish we had rustcaps back home.”
“No, you don’t” I respond almost immediately. She almost walks straight into a passing knight carrying a tray. I catch her elbow before she collides with him.
“Careful, Hawthorne.” She moves closer to me, her cheeks glowing pink.
“Right, sorry.” Reaching past her to take two bowls, I scoop up some soup and place it on a tray.
“Why don’t I want a rustcap back home?” she says, obviously still fixated on this topic. Guiding her to a table, she takes a seat opposite me as I place her food in front of her.
“They hum.”
She lets out a small giggle. “They what?”
“When they’re content,” I reply. “They let out a low, vibrating hum.”
“That sounds…adorable. Now I want one even more.”
“It isn’t,” I reply. She takes a spoonful of soup and blows on it gently.
“Imagine trying to sleep and you’ve got a bunch of rustcaps by your window humming away into the night.” I try to explain. But she just chuckles softly. I reach past her, moving her drink away from the edge of the table.
“You’re lying.”
“I am not.”
She wrinkles her nose, “I think you just dislike that you can’t command them, Warden.” She dips her bread into the stew and glances at me, her eyes teasing. I hold her gaze longer than necessary.
“I wouldn’t attempt to command a fungus.”
“Mhm,” she replies, raising an eyebrow at me.
“They hum,” I repeat.
“So you’ve said.”
“It’s unpleasant.”
“Remind me never to hum around you.” She laughs, returning to her food. For the first time since she arrived, she doesn’t look like she’s bracing herself for something. Her laugh sits easier on her than it did this morning.
The door to my wing closes behind us, sealing the coldness of the corridor with it. I catch her eyeing the chessboard on the table in the main living area.
“Do you want to play?” I ask.
“I would love that.” Looking down at herself before she continues, “I’ll just shower first, if you don’t mind.
I’m covered in dirt.” I nod in response, trying to ignore the image of her showering that seems to have entered my mind.
Elodie spends a decent amount of time in the washroom whilst I set the board up to play.
She seemed happier today, covered in mud, than she has since she arrived here.
Strange.
I turn to the sound of her footsteps and look up at her.
She’s wearing a long, loose top that sits just above her knees, a towel in one hand ruffling her loose, wet curls.
I swallow thickly, looking away a fraction too late.
She seems more relaxed than when she first arrived, a little less panic-stricken.
“I need to ask you something,” she says, her voice echoing through the room.
“Okay.”
“I was talking to Thomas earlier…” she pauses. “I said a word, and he looked almost frightened. He said I couldn’t say it here, in your kingdom.” I stop what I’m doing to meet her stare.
“What was the word?” I ask.
“Fire.”
I freeze at the sound of that word. A word so long forgotten, so barely used, it seems a foreign language now.
“Do you not have fire here?” she presses.
“We do not need fire. We have runes. They surpass the need to ever use flames.” I say, and it’s the truth.
“Runes?”
I gesture for her to sit at the table in front of me. I forget sometimes just how far away her life is from Greyhollow. The thought of a world without runes is inconceivable.
“Runes are a way of using the magic that runs deep within the earth. A collection of symbols and patterns that, when used correctly, can do many things.”
“Well, why can’t you just use them to grow this plant you all so desperately need?”
“We cannot create life with magic. We could enhance its growth, sure, but there are rules to nature that we must obey.”
“But that doesn’t explain why Thomas was so full of fear,” she says, moving towards the table now.
“Thomas is young. There are stories, myths really, of the Great Burn. It talks of a fire that swept through our land, destroyed all in its path. Our ancestors placed a rune, known as the Aethelguard, to prevent any fire from ever forming again. They wanted to protect it.”
“Okay, so it’s not like some special curse word that will land me in the stocks?” she asks, a small breath of a laugh leaving her lips.
“We don’t have stocks. People had poor aim. Too many knights were injured.”
She giggles, then, “I was joking,” she says. I smirk at her, trapped in her innocent eyes.
“No, it’s not a curse word. Many of the people are superstitious. They believe fire brings much evil. Not a curse, just taboo.” I admit to her. It’s been a long time since I have offered any stories on this land. I finish placing the last chess piece onto the board.
“Are you ready to play?” I ask her. “I know you beat Kael, but that’s because he mistakes confidence for strategy.”
“Are we still talking about chess?” she asks with a small grin. I huff out a laugh, and she beams at my response.
“I must warn you…” she pauses, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. “If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s chess.”
“Then I feel sorry to be taking that away from you.” Her eyes light up with a spark.
“You’re on, Warden.”
“Show me what you’ve got, Hawthorne.”
I don’t know how long we play for. I’m lost in the stillness of her features.
The look of concentration on her face, the way she seems to bite her lip before making a move that she knows is good.
Each time she pinches one of my pieces, she glances at me briefly before looking back at the board.
Time seems to pause around us until I realise she’s beaten me.
Three times.
I have no words for her other than staring at the board in plain silence, trying to figure out how she got round all my tactics.
She wasn’t lying.
She is good at chess.
Very good.
It adds another layer to this girl I was already curious about.
I sit back in my chair, defeated, deciding to keep what little dignity I have left and quit whilst I’m ahead.
“I warned you, Warden. I’m good at this,” she says, scrunching her nose with a wide smile.
“Well, I’m sorry I ever underestimated you.
” I smile at her. “Who taught you to play like that?” I ask her gently.
But when she doesn’t respond, I look at her sorrowful expression.
Her smile fades to a thin line as she pulls her body in on itself.
I don’t push her, letting the silence hang between us before she looks out the window.
“My friend back home. We would play during our lunch breaks, and he was the best player I knew. Always beat me,” she says, smiling to herself. “I made it my mission to learn to play so I could beat him one day. It’s silly, really.”
“Did you beat him?”
She nods, sliding a loose hair behind her ear.
“Then it’s not silly,” I reply.
She gives me a soft smile before meeting my eyes.
“Thank you for playing with me."
“Yeah, well, once Kael hears about it, I doubt I’ll hear the end of it.” I joke, but it’s true. She smiles up at me,
“You’re close, you and Kael?”
“He’s not my brother by blood, but he’s persistent enough to qualify.” I say. “He’s a good knight. A great master-at-arms, loyal to a fault. But he’s also an insufferable menace.” She smiles at me again. I could get used to this, getting her to smile.
“I think he probably looks up to you."
“I wish that were true. Kael is one person I could never lead. Sometimes, though, I don’t think he needs it. But don’t tell him I ever said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” We hold each other’s stare.
The silence is not uncomfortable, though.
“Well, I should probably get to sleep. Unless you want me to show you how good I am at chess once more?”
“And what if I told you I was letting you win?” I say with a smirk. It’s a lie, of course, and she knows it. This girl doubts herself in nearly everything, except for this. She knows she’s good and I feel like testing her.
“I’d tell you that you’re a sore loser, Warden,” she chuckles softly.
“Brave of you to call the High Warden a sore loser.”
“Brave of you to suggest you’d let me win.”
She is fiery.
I like it.
This small, fragile persona, it only runs so deep.
I wonder what is underneath it all.
“Then we’ll settle it tomorrow,” I say, earning me a warm smile. “You should sleep, Hawthorne.”
Nodding, she rises from the chair, moving to her door. She presses a hand against it before slipping in and giving me a small smile.
“Good night, Hawthorne,”
“Good night, Warden.”