THIRTY-FOUR #2
The astrolabe. Kieren told me he sold it to pay for our passage. Now, the funds are in a tin in the kitchen at Miradores. “He needed money. He wanted—”
“I’m not interested in whatever excuse he gave you. I asked him to return, and he ignored my messages.”
The accusation destroys the last of my control. “He was dead! He died in the dirt.” My voice breaks as I say it. “Trying to save my life.”
Even after what’s happened. That should mean something to Broderic.
But he tilts his head and glares back. “None of that would have happened if you’d come home with me.”
Each word is a stab to the heart. Before I can summon a response, his eyes pin my gaze.
They’re the same color as mine, hazel like our mother’s, but it’s the only way we’re alike now.
I can’t stand looking at them a second longer.
Turning on my heel, I march out of my stolen bedroom—and find Bishop standing in the hall.
Judging by the look on his face, he arrived in time to overhear our fight.
I glance into the sitting room, where the others are waiting. They probably heard it, too.
“Obviously, you won’t be able to stay here.” Broderic continues as he follows me out, but he stops short when he sees him.
Bishop doesn’t move. He just stares back at Broderic until my brother shrinks toward the doorframe. “I’ve arranged for her to stay at the outpost,” Bishop says. “For her safety.”
That was his request. I’d only asked Bishop to keep a careful distance, not wanting to distract from Kieren’s Evensong.
And now there isn’t going to be one.
But Broderic looks between the two of us. “I see.”
“Is that a problem?” Bishop asks.
“Arden made it clear months ago that this is no longer her home.” My brother doesn’t sound as certain as he did a minute before.
“Why don’t the two of us discuss this inside your study?” He doesn’t wait, striding down the hallway like he knows exactly where it is. Of course he would, after meeting Broderic here to arrange the reopening of the Cinderwald outpost.
Broderic hesitates before following his lead. I consider joining them, uncertain leaving the two alone is a good idea.
The door to the study closes before I can make up my mind.
Resisting the temptation to eavesdrop proves nearly impossible, so I make my way back to the sitting room. My siblings are there with Laurel, all quiet enough that I know they heard our fight.
I take a seat next to Isidore, sneaking a glance to see that she’s fighting a smile.
“Will you be staying long?” Laurel clasps her hands, sitting like she has a rod in place of her spine.
I was considering it until now. Bishop said we could stay as long as we want. “We’re only here for Kieren. We won’t be in Damalis long.”
“Dinner tomorrow, then.” Before I can protest, she’s on her feet. “I’ll tell the cook.”
She glides out of the room, and I turn to Isidore and mouth, Cook?
“And a maid, housekeeper, and footman,” she whispers.
“Broderic is okay with all these people in the house?”
She shrugs, opening her mouth, but before she can tell me what’s going on, the study door creaks open. Bishop strides into the room. “Shall we?”
“You just got here,” Isidore says, grabbing my hand.
But Bishop clears his throat. “I have business to attend. I’m afraid we must go.”
I squeeze her hand. “I will see you at dinner tomorrow.”
Bishop’s eyebrows creep up a little, but he doesn’t correct me.
No matter what was said in the study, I won’t miss my chance to see my siblings.
The ones who want to see me, that is. Broderic appears as I stand to leave.
His face is pale as he enters the room. Bishop doesn’t bother looking at him.
He just walks straight out the front door without another word.
“Laurel tells me that you’ll be joining us for dinner tomorrow,” he says stiffly.
I swallow. “If that’s not a problem.”
“No.” He grits his teeth. “You’re always welcome here.”
His change of heart is about as believable as his fiancée’s simpering.
But I nod. “Tomorrow.”
He follows me to the door like he’s going to see me outside. He pauses on the threshold, eyes lifting to check that Bishop is a safe distance away. “I thought you were smarter than this.” He tugs at his vest, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you would get involved with a man like that.”
Of all the things he could judge me for … I flick one of the gold buttons on his vest. “I could say the same. That must have been some dowry they gave you for your soul.”
“Someone had to stay.” He turns away, but not before I spot the hatred hiding in his eyes.
This time, when I pause on the gravel drive and look at the house, it doesn’t feel like home at all.
The Marius outpost sits where farmland gives way to the Cinderwald.
The barracks and officers’ cottages cluster like a shield between Damalis and the black forest that grew from the ashes of Calvera.
Even the pair of sentries stationed atop the tall watchtower are focused on the gnarled mass of trees beyond, like they believe the stories that the ruined land was cursed when Ravenell fell.
Bishop leads me through the outpost yard toward a stone house situated closer to the watchtower than the barracks. A few soldiers straighten as we pass, then hurry away, stealing glances back at us. It’s hard to know which of us has the more dangerous reputation here.
“I thought this was a cottage.” It’s nearly as big as Journey’s End. The cottage is made of the same pale limestone as my family’s estate, but the structure is in better condition.
“An officer’s cottage,” he says, reaching for the knob with a grin. “It will have to do.”
He swings the door open and waits for me to step through.
The entry is small but comfortable, with a sitting room on one side and a dining room on the other.
A stone hearth dominates the parlor to my right, its iron grate swept clean of ash.
Furniture is spread throughout, worn and comfortable-looking but not quite enough to fill the large room.
Bishop turns left, pausing to take off his cloak by a table long enough to seat ten.
I hang my satchel on the back of one of the chairs before unfastening my baldric. I prop the sword against the table. “Do I want to know what happened with my brother?”
Neither of us said much on the walk from Journey’s End, like we both needed to think after seeing my family.
“Probably not,” he says, settling into a chair by the fireplace. “I know we just got here, but I heard—”
A knock on the door interrupts us.
“Whoever it is, tell them I said no,” he grumbles, but he’s already getting up before I can open the door.
My sister stands on the threshold, teeth nipping her lower lip as she scans the outpost. “Isidore?”
“Good. A problem for you,” Bishop mutters under his breath so only I can hear him.
She turns, her smile faltering when she sees he’s here, too. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I came to bring you this.”
She passes me a letter with Patron Ravenell scrawled across the front in elegant script, and my stomach knots. My brother will have plenty to say about that designation. I break its wax seal, fingers trembling slightly.
“The queen has summoned me to Wintour,” I say faintly, adding, “immediately. She sent word to Broderic.”
Why him? Before I can ask, Bishop moves closer and snatches it from me. “Interesting.”
It’s never a good sign when he uses that word.
“I received the summons as well before leaving for your brother’s,” he says. “We should respond that we will come, before she sends another.”
That’s what he was about to tell me. Interesting is definitely the wrong word. Fuck is far more appropriate. “No.”
“No?” he repeats with a hint of a smile. “Shall I send your whole response, Patron Ravenell?”
My sister’s eyes widen, and I rush to correct him. “Do not call me that. Besides, I’m having dinner with my family tomorrow.” Only half of whom want me here, but who’s counting?
“I’ll tell her we’ll come following the equinox, in a few days,” Bishop clarifies.
“If the queen summoned you, you should go. You’re a patron now!” Isidore interjects. “I’ll go with you. It will be fun to see the capital again.”
She’s desperate to get out of Damalis, and all I want is to linger.
Bishop shakes his head. “It’s better for you to stay put,” he says. Isidore’s face falls, and he hastily adds, “But thank you for delivering this.”
She turns, still crestfallen, and looks at me. “I thought we could talk, but if you’re busy …”
“You can come in.” I step to the side. I could use the distraction. “He won’t bite.”
But she glances over her shoulder at the barracks in the distance. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to see the outpost. Broderic forbade me from visiting it.”
I can guess why our brother did that.
Bishop laughs gruffly. “It seems your brother and I can agree on something.” He glances between us. “Just stay clear of the Cinderwald and try not to get in trouble.”
Like I have any interest in walking through the forest that separates Damalis from the ruins of Ravenell’s home territory.
Isidore lights up like he’s given her the keys to the entire outpost, confirming that she’s not really here to see me. “We will.”
“You aren’t the one I’m worried about,” he says, his mouth tugging into a smirk, but he grabs my baldric. “And remember to take this.”
I roll my eyes. “We’re surrounded by your troops.”
“The deal was that you’d stay armed the whole time.” He crosses the room and fastens it over my shoulder. He leans closer as he tightens the straps, lowering his voice. “Plus, it looks good on you.”
A thrill rushes through me, chasing heat onto my cheeks. I glance back, suddenly wishing my sister wasn’t two steps away.
“Do you actually know how to use that?” Isidore interrupts.
“We don’t pass them out like toys,” Bishop says dryly, as if he spotted Laurel’s gift to Andry at Journey’s End.