Chapter 41
Cressyda
CRESSYDA STARED AT her brother. ‘What do you mean Alinore’s gone?’ she asked.
Ottone rubbed his face. He was still standing in the doorway where he had burst into her bedchamber just moments ago.
‘The guest quarters are empty,’ he said.
‘I spoke to the guards on the gates and they said an attendant left yesterday evening just before sundown. It must’ve been her.
She dresses in a shirt and breeches when she trains, and with her hair cut short, she could easily be mistaken for a man. ’
Cressyda staggered back and sat down heavily on the edge of her bed. The dark, silky skirt of her mourning clothes ballooned around her with a hiss of air. She knew she should not be surprised – Alinore had said that she would leave – but somehow, it was still shocking.
‘We quarrelled yesterday,’ Ottone added. ‘I said … I said things I shouldn’t have. That’s why I went looking for her first thing this morning. I wanted to apologize.’ He twisted the hem of his black mourning jacket around his fingers, stretching and warping the fabric. ‘I upset her. I hurt her.’
‘That makes two of us.’ Cressyda took a deep breath. ‘Alinore and I fought in the autumn just after you left. It was a bad argument. We both said some terrible things.’
Alinore’s words ricocheted through her head: ‘You’re just a doll, a plaything, a toy!’ She winced.
‘What happened?’
Cressyda hauled herself to her feet again.
‘We hurt each other. Then afterwards …’ She trailed off, unsure how to explain it.
‘What was said couldn’t be taken back.’ She looked across the room to where Alinore’s pallet lay empty under the far window.
‘The night after we fought, Alinore didn’t return to our bedchamber.
She started avoiding me and that made me angry so I avoided her too. ’
‘But she didn’t have anyone else, Cress!’
Cressyda looked away. ‘I know.’
Chattering voices passed the bedchamber door. The Queen’s household were making their way to the dining hall for breakfast.
‘We’ve driven her to this,’ said Ottone, tugging at his dark hair. ‘It’s obvious where she’s going – she’s travelling to Lord Lassiaro.’ His face paled. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone. She didn’t … she didn’t say goodbye.’
Cressyda folded her arms, some of her old anger rekindling. ‘We shouldn’t have let this carry on for so long,’ she snapped. ‘We’ve indulged her. All of that foolishness about becoming a knight. She’s completely deluded.’
‘But that’s the thing. She’s not.’
Cressyda rolled her eyes.
‘I mean it. Alinore’s talented. She’s better than most of the soldiers I fought with this last winter. If she didn’t have to train secretly, she would be far better than me.’
Cressyda waved his words away. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she replied.
‘You know as well as I do that no one’s going to give her a squireship.
I’ve tried to get her to see sense, but she won’t listen.
She never listens.’ Cressyda thought of all the times she and Alinore had argued over the seasons.
The many snapped retorts and jibes. ‘I just want her to be safe,’ she added.
‘She’s … she’s so brave, but sometimes she can’t see things as they really are. ’
Ottone strode to the window and peered at the front courtyard below. ‘I’d guess that Alinore has purchased a horse,’ he said. ‘If she didn’t stop for the night, she’ll be almost half a day’s ride ahead by now. Travelling the road alone.’
Panic blazed in Cressyda’s stomach and her heart thudded in her chest. ‘Ottone, you have to go after her. She’s going to get herself killed.’
He nodded, face pale. ‘I’ll leave now.’ He rushed to the door, already beginning to undo the buttons of his mourning jacket. ‘I’ll dress like an attendant and ride alone. No one can know that she’s done this. If anyone finds out, at best she’ll be ostracized for it. At worst, banished from court.’
Cressyda felt reassured by her brother’s focus. Ottone would find Alinore before she got herself into too much trouble. Before something terrible happened.
‘Tell Mother I’ve gone hunting,’ he continued. ‘I do sometimes ride alone towards the mountains so it’s plausible. I’ll have to leave the city through that route anyway to avoid attention and circle the perimeter. It’ll slow me down, but it’s the only option …’
As he spoke, his words fast and urgent, Cressyda wondered if he knew yet that he was in love with Alinore.
Surely it was obvious.
She had realized it herself recently, but part of her thought that she had probably always known it to be true.
Ottone adored Alinore. Maybe it had started as the love of friendship, but over the winters it had developed into something else.
It was evident from the way he spoke about her, the way he admired her, the very way that he said her name.
It was equally clear to Cressyda that Alinore reciprocated his feelings, but whether or not her friend would admit to such a thing, Cressyda was not sure.
Such tenderness could too easily be mistaken for weakness.
Sometimes Cressyda had contemplated asking Alinore outright.
But she had worried that it would be perceived as just another irritation – another accusation between them.
Cressyda knew her friend well enough to understand that if Alinore was ever going to confess to being in love, she needed to admit it to herself first.
‘Go after her,’ said Cressyda. ‘If she’s going to listen to anyone, she’ll listen to you.’
Ottone’s cheeks flushed pink; then his features became taut again. ‘I’ll be as fast as I can, but I won’t be back until tomorrow. I’ll miss Samsel arriving tonight. You’ll have to cover for me.’
‘Oh …’ Unease rose in Cressyda’s chest and she placed a hand over her throat.
Ottone paused. ‘You’re worried?’
She blinked and shook herself. ‘It’s just a day,’ she said, though she could still hear fear tinging her words. ‘Samsel will be busy greeting everyone and preparing for the Maiden Sacrifice tomorrow. He won’t have time to notice me.’
She almost believed her own words, but apprehension still lingered, a knot of worry wedged beneath her ribs.
Then the urge came, sharp and sudden, to confess it all.
To finally speak the truth that had weighed heavily for so many winters: I have the Sight.
I am one of the Mountain folk and Samsel knows it.
What a relief it would be to say it aloud, to finally share the burden with her brother. It teetered on the edge of her lips.
But Ottone was already striding towards the door, intent on leaving without delay.
The moment slipped away.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she called, her voice firmer than she felt. ‘Just find Alinore.’
At the threshold, Ottone hesitated, glancing back. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ he said.
Cressyda nodded.
The truth would have to wait.