Chapter 5
EMMELINE
The elderly man stared up at me through long, unruly eyebrows. His expression might have once been baleful in his younger days, but I found it difficult to be threatened by a man whose gout made standing painful. His complexion was pale, with almost a yellow tinge to it. He was not a healthy man.
“You have to leave,” my guard told him. Cal was young and determined to make an impression. So far, it wasn’t a good one. As he tugged at the man’s arm, I snapped at him.
“Enough, Cal.” Gathering my skirts to step over the puddle in front of his hearth, I approached the elderly man. “What is your name?”
The man frowned, his scowl no less severe despite facing his queen. “Ihon. Ihon Withington.”
“I worry for your safety so close to the city walls, Ihon.”
“We aren’t leaving.”
Surprise lifted my brows. “We? I thought it was just you living here.”
He nodded toward a door in the back, light streaming through its cracked opening. I peered through, wishing I had enough divinity to listen for a heartbeat without my head aching unforgivingly.
“My wife,” he said, and I bit my lip. There was likely a reason she hadn’t shown herself.
“What ails her?”
“What doesn’t?”
My temple pulsed, and I lifted my hand to rub the offensive spot. I thought back to my conversation with Lord Durand. When the Supreme, alongside his Nythyrian allies, had marched upon Astana, Rain and I had done our best to send those we could toward the mountains. Traveling to the eastern half of Vesta was safer than staying within a city under siege. But there was no planning for those who couldn’t get around. I couldn’t heal everyone, and it was likely many ailments were long-term enough that healing them with my divinity would be impossible.
“Is her illness recent?” I asked, hoping I could do something for her. I knew I couldn’t do more for Ihon than help him during a gout attack, but perhaps his wife suffered from something I could fix.
The man laughed, and I heard a faint wheezing. He might have suffered from respiratory attacks too. “Since your soldiers destroyed her chair, she’s been back there. But her illness has been with her since birth.”
“Quit hounding her, Ihon. She’s just trying to help. Better than the soldiers who came before.” The woman’s voice called out, surprising me. I’d expected a frailty to it, but she spoke with confidence.
Deciding it would be better to deal with his wife than this cantankerous man, I walked toward the bedroom. The path through the center of the hall was well worn, the dark brown wood having grown lighter from wear.
“May I come in?” I asked, peering through the small crack. The curtains were drawn open, letting in plenty of light, but I could only see the end of a bed.
“It’s not as if I can stop you,” she responded. My guard brushed past me, opening the door and stepping inside.
“Oh,” Cal murmured. “I’m sorry. I just had to?—”
“Out,” I demanded, when I saw the woman in a state of undress. She was reaching for a robe, leaning out of the bed. She was likely around my parent’s age. Though she had a head full of thick, grey hair, she appeared healthy. With pink cheeks and bright eyes, she watched my guard obey my order. At first, I wondered what possibly would have kept her bedridden.
Until I noticed her lower extremities. Her legs were disproportionately short compared to the rest of her body, and one was twisted in such a way, it must have been broken more than once. If she’d suffered since birth, there must have been some underlying illness which caused it.
“Weak bones. They have a tendency of breaking,” she murmured by way of explanation. I’d never heard of anything like it. “Haven’t walked in some time. We had a chair with wheels I used to get around?—”
“Until your brutes destroyed it!” Ihon called from beside the hearth where I’d left him.
“I believe it was an accident,” the woman explained, rolling her eyes at her husband. “But no one has been running to replace it, neither.”
“What happened?” I asked. Whoever had ruined her chair would be reprimanded with haste, I knew that for certain.
“It was old. The last time one of your men came to make us leave, he slammed the door open into it. Broke a wheel. It took Ihon all night to haul it out back,” she explained, and a grunt from Ihon punctuated her words.
“You have my apologies—” I paused, waiting for the woman to give me her name.
“Dia,” she said, and she gave me a warm smile. My gaze was drawn to her hazel eyes as they wrinkled at the corners. They reminded me of the Umbroths, and I had to look away.
“I’m so sorry, Dia. It should have been reported immediately. Do you think it can be mended or will you need a new one? Do you have a schematic?”
“A new wheel will do, but I don’t think any of the wainwrights will have the time.” A soft huff of laughter escaped her lips before she set her jaw. “Besides, it isn’t as if we’re going anywhere.”
“You’re too close to the city walls. I don’t think we can protect you here. The Crown will house?—”
Ihon stepped into the room, placing most of his weight on a cane I was worried would snap at any moment. He was taller than I’d imagined, and I wondered about his glory days. Had Ihon wooed Dia with his impressive height? Was she the only one who could break through his grumpy fa?ade?
“All the Crown brought us before was apathy. And now, the new king only brings us war. And you. Did one bring upon the other, I wonder?”
“Ihon,” Dia warned.
“Don’t ‘Ihon’ me. I’m just about sick of our royal visitor,” he sneered. “We’ll die in our beds, Your Majesty. ”
I wished Ihon and Dia were the first people I’d fought with to leave the Wend. I wished each story wasn’t nearly the same as all the rest. Be it age, mobility issues, or sheer stubbornness, I wasn’t sure I’d get any of them to leave their homes. Not in a way that left me feeling positive about the experience, anyway.
“I could order you to leave,” I said, not sure if I should or not. Though I was the queen, there were laws. There were expectations. Rainier and I had wanted to be kind and just rulers. We hoped to gain the trust of our people without using unnecessary force. I’d spent so much time in the Wend, doing my best to help make things better. I didn’t want to undo any sort of trust I’d managed to foster in this impoverished area of the city. But if they all died, did it matter? We had plans and dreams to fulfill within Astana—if there was an Astana left after the Supreme was finished with us.
“We are too old to start over, Your Majesty.” Dia’s voice was soft. “Our son is on the other side of those walls, fighting to keep our home safe. If he can withstand the danger, so can we.”
“Emma,” I said, voice breaking. “You may call me Emma.” I couldn’t bear the thought of another couple being uncertain about their child’s safety. I knew the pain well, and my daughter was far better protected than their son. “Please, let me give him someone to come back to. He may survive even if they breach our walls. You certainly will not.”
Dia looked at the ground—which was notably spotless. Most homes in the Wend were not so meticulously cared for. Everything in this room was clean, though I noticed anything above chair height was slightly dustier, and an orb weaver had taken up residence in the far corner. Glancing into the hall, I realized that was the case throughout. Save for the puddle of water in front of the hearth from the recent storm, there was nothing out of place. Dia cared for her home with a reverent touch. Ihon only gazed at his wife, a grim determination creasing his features. It was clear her opinion was the only one which mattered as he waited for her to speak.
As I went to move around the bed, ready to beg Dia to listen to me, Ihon’s cane moved to block my passing.
“Leave her be,” he said, rapping my shins harder than he likely intended. His eyes widened as he saw me wince, but he didn’t back down. “She don’t need you guilting her.”
“I agree,” I said, realizing my solution. The very idea coated my tongue in slimy regret, and my stomach folded into itself. The words slithered out, anyway. “But she does need you.”
Ihon’s eyes narrowed as he attempted to understand me. “Yes.”
“And you just assaulted your Queen.” I closed my eyes, unable to bear the hatred burning into me from both Ihon and Dia. I could have left them, like I’d done with the last man who’d refused to leave his home. But the thought of this couple’s child coming home after a long battle, only to find their home razed to the ground from an errant flaming arrow vexed me. If all that was left was his parent’s charred remains, what would he have fought for?
“You can’t,” Dia breathed.
“I can,” I asserted, turning to look at the woman. Dia’s mouth had fallen open and her sandy skin had gone pale. “But I won’t. Imprison him, that is.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cal step into the room, placing himself between me and Ihon.
“You bitch,” Ihon murmured.
“I won’t put you in the dungeons if you let me move you both farther into the city. There is a place?—”
“Fine,” Dia snapped, eyes darting over to her husband. Softer, she whispered, “Don’t take him from me.”
“Gather what you can into that trunk,” I said, pointing toward the foot of their bed. “A wagon will be here to escort you before sunset,” I said. Throat tight, I moved past Ihon, careful not to bump into him. The last thing I wanted to do was set him off balance. Closing my eyes, I prepared myself for the evening sunlight to burn into me, making my already pounding head worse.
“Justify yourself all you want, Your Majesty,” Dia called as my hand slipped to the doorknob. “At least Shivani didn’t try to hide her manipulation behind her morals.”
“A queen doesn’t regret using whatever cunning she has to keep her people alive,” I responded, though I wasn’t sure that was true. Was going against their desires selfish? Swallowing, I opened the door and stepped back into the Wend.
If what I did was wrong, did it matter? My decision would have been the same.
Breathing in air that was far from fresh, I still didn’t want to return to my chambers, but I wasn’t sure I could fight with another person. In fact, being around people was the very last thing I wanted.