25. Kasten
Out of the two thousand soldiers who had fought at Whitehill, only eight hundred survived. It was a catastrophic loss. Lord Hans’s regiment had been the worst hit, with seven hundred and thirty-two casualties, along with Lord Hans himself.
A third of my personal battalion was dead. I knew their names, their dreams, and their families. We had fought together time and time again.
Four hundred and seventy-five soldiers from Kasomere were dead, including Sir Cley. They had put their faith in me, and they had died.
While I had been unconscious, Sir Jordan had ordered a week of mourning for the city, followed by a day of celebration for the victory.
Whitehill was now guarded by a skeleton force sent by the king to relieve my troops that had initially remained. At least it was back in Fenland hands. But if the king had sent more regiments, so many more soldiers would be alive today. The more I thought about it, the hollower I felt. Had their deaths really been worth it?
Four hundred and seventy-five. Almost half of our soldiers. If we were sent on a campaign again soon, we’d have to combine with another regiment, which would cause a whole new set of problems.
Under ordinary circumstances, I personally wrote a letter to the family of each fallen soldier, but Callum had already finished the task over the last seven days, leaving them for me to merely sign the huge stack. So I scribbled on each one, my hand still regaining strength, and ignored the pain in my shoulder from the repetitive task, thinking of the pain the families were going through because of me.
Once I’d finished, I sat in my chair by the window and wished my bedroom faced the bit of the garden where Sophie might be instead of the rose garden. It had been so good to see her again, but now I missed her sharply.
Having her so close, her gentle hands applying the poultices she’d put so much effort into, had been a strange kind of pleasurable torture I still hadn’t quite recovered from. I’d never intended for her to nurse me back to health, and though I should have probably sent her away in favor of a servant from the start, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to dismiss her. It was too good to have her close, and her presence chased away the darkness of recent terrors. So I’d let her remain close for two days.
Yesterday, I had finally persuaded my wife to leave me to rest, and I regretted it while simultaneously knowing it was for the best. I was feeling much better after eight days of her close attention, but now I missed being able to glance up at her sitting in the chair reading reports of the estate or writing letters or grinding herbs, even if we had barely spoken. Her forehead would wrinkle in concentration as she worked, and her round blue eyes would flick up at me periodically. Every single time she looked at me, my heart would stutter in a fashion that was both ridiculous and addictive. But now there was little left for her to do; I only needed a bandage change every third day, and the tonics were easily self-administered. I’d asked her not to come unless the wound reopened. She had better things to do with her time than sit there while I selfishly looked at her.
The next time I would see her would be our dinner.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. How had I agreed to dinner? No wife should have to beg her husband just to have a meal with her, and I winced as I remembered the request. But I knew Sophie was only doing it because she was so eager to be the dutiful wife she had been trained to be; to please her husband and get pregnant, suppressing her own feelings in the process. I remembered how she’d forced herself to smile at me in the carriage and tried so hard to please me. She wasn’t coming into marriage expecting to work as a team. The more I got to know Sophie, the more her previous treatment disgusted me. She was incredible, full of so much potential, yet she’d been constrained in a tiny cage. I wanted to hear more of how her mind worked.
And now we would have an awkward dinner while she tried her hardest to please me just because she had to. Because she’d been taught it was the most important—no, the only important thing in her life. I didn’t want her to feel obliged to do anything with me or for me. Especially after enduring an unhappy marriage to Frederick.
I thought about the way she sometimes startled, how she became nervous when people expressed strong emotions, how she had once flinched at my touch. Had she been scared of me, or did her reaction have something to do with her previous husband? My hands tightened on the armrest as I closed my eyes and waited for the hot rage to cool. Frederick was dead, but I suspected her father was equally to blame from the way he married her off to the highest bidder and taught her to hide her true feelings. I could only imagine what else had occurred. But I suspected Sophie would be as loyal to her father as she was to me, simply because it’s what she was supposed to do.
I tipped my head back and stared at the pale plaster ceiling. I felt so useless. I wanted Sophie to be my wife in truth, but it was dangerous to even let such a thought cross my mind. I wanted it too badly, and I knew it was impossible. A few dresses and flowers weren’t going to fix what had happened to her. The scars ran too deep. And my own scars? Well, no amount of surgery would ever repair me enough to be the decent husband she deserved.
The door opened, and Callum walked in. His arm was free of his sling for the first time since he’d sprained it. “Good morning, Kasten. I see you’ve finished the letters. I’ll give them to Finley to deliver.” He nodded at the neat stacks on my desk. “Do you want to have lunch here, or do you want a change of scenery?”
I rose using the armrests for support, careful not to strain my side. “A change of scenery. Maybe that room with brown wallpaper on the second floor, south wing.”
Callum crossed his arms. “The room that you stalk Sophie from that used to be the servant’s recreation room? The one that is massively out your way, two stories down?”
I frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. I like the light in there at midday. In fact, I think I should repurpose it as my standard breakfast and lunch room.”
Callum shook his head with an exasperated expression. “I’ll tell the servants to bring our food there and catch you up. Go carefully, won’t you?”
I scowled. “I’ve been doing nothing for almost ten days, and you people drugged me so I was unconscious for six of them. I’ve never been more ‘careful’ in my life. I’m fine. Hurts a lot less than the last arrow did.”
Callum merely raised an eyebrow before leaving again to find the servants. I walked through the corridor and gingerly down the stairs, then with growing speed and confidence. I grunted in satisfaction at how little the wounds in my abdomen and side hurt as my movements tugged on them. Sophie said the stitches were due to come out tomorrow, and I couldn’t wait to be freed of their itch. I could probably even jog without much discomfort now, but Sophie would be upset if I did. I wasn’t meant to use my shoulder yet, but I’d left the sling in my room. I hated the frustration of only being able to use one arm.
I raised both arms in stretches as I walked, pleased to feel the tension easing. Maybe I could practice with my sword in my room later—using my good arm, of course. She would never know.
The servants arrived just as I drew back the curtains, laying out the table for two and covering it with food: porcelain serving dishes laden with fruit and sausages and eggs and bacon. By the teapot was the usual small stack of letters and reports weighed down by my silver letter opener. Unfortunately, I already had a backlog despite how well everything had been managed during my absence and early recovery.
I flicked past a finance request and building update to handwriting I recognized from one of my men in Adenburg. I frowned and opened it.
‘Three sightings last night. Shall we proceed to capture or merely observe? T.’
I sighed. The world didn’t stop just because I was injured. Part of me couldn’t suppress the trickle of excitement at the prospect of finally doing something again. Instead of just sitting around thinking of those I’d failed, I wanted to do something that made my heart beat faster, something that saved lives instead of throwing them away.
I noticed the next letter was from the same person and opened this too.
‘One sighting removed by unknown assailant with crossbow bolt. Other two at large but weaker. Shall we attempt capture? T.’
I frowned. An unknown assailant? Nobody else had ever seemed to be involved before. The city guard was never present in the areas where the creatures were about since Lord Lyrason had so much influence over Duke James. Maybe an innocent passerby had acted in self-defense.
Callum entered the room without comment and settled opposite me, heaping things on his plate as I flicked through the remaining letters. The largest was the medical list describing the non-lethal casualties from Whitehill and the estimated recovery time for each soldier. I would digest that properly later. The other note to capture my attention was Meena’s. Anything that involved Sophie was something I wanted to know straightaway.
‘After the previously reported visit from George Halfield and our increased surveillance for possible spying and sabotage that followed, we found a stranger visiting the central kryalcomy workshop along with the armory. He has an Adenburg accent. He is currently being held for questioning, but I believe he is connected to the Halfield family. I have not mentioned the issue to her ladyship. DameMeena.’
I pursed my lips as I read the letter again. Meena had good instincts on these things. I knew it was likely Lord Halfield would be after my lands when I asked to marry Sophie and possibly my secrets as well, so he could rise in favor with the king. But trying to gain a foothold through his son the moment I was away? His boldness was shocking. I was proud that Sophie had sent him packing. It must have been hard for her. She was stronger than she seemed.
I drank my tea and ate a slice of watermelon as I looked down through the window at the new garden patch where Sophie was kneeling down in the soil. She lifted her face up to laugh with Lucy and Beatrice, her pale gold hair blowing around her like a rallying banner. She was simply…beautiful. Filled with joy and goodness. Everything I was not. Everything I was countless miles away from.
Was there any point in us having dinner together?
“My lord?”
I blinked, realizing my young servant, Finley, had been talking to me while I’d been staring at Sophie. I suppressed my irritation.
“Yes?”
If he was annoyed at my lack of attention, he hid it well. “Callum gave me the letters for the families of the fallen. Any replies to your morning’s correspondence that you wish me to send, my lord?”
I took a sip of tea. “Tell Dame Meena to proceed with the questioning when her ladyship is engaged elsewhere. Then ask Sir Egbert to find out everything he can about how Whitehill initially fell—specifically why the garrison was emptied.”
Callum leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “Are you sure this is a good idea? If these questions get traced back to you by members of the court, you could be in even more trouble.”
I pinched my forehead. “I need to know.” Louder, I added for the servant’s ears, “Also, when the skeleton force we left behind is relieved by the reinforcements, tell them to write a full report on the new garrison.”
I nodded to dismiss the servant. He gave a quick bow before leaving.
Callum flung his hands in annoyance. “Do you? And what if the king really did empty the garrison and get all those men killed just to kill you? What if you do get undeniable proof? What are you going to do about it? You can’t publicly challenge him. You would be executed for treason, and there would be riots. More deaths. You’ve already told me a million times you won’t kill him.” Callum stood and walked around the table in three quick strides before putting his hand on my shoulder. He gentled his tone. “All you would do is torture yourself by sitting on the information and doing nothing with it. You’ll make your life harder.”
I met his eyes. “I still need to know. I need to know what kind of man my father is.”
Callum grimaced and looked away, his gold curls falling forward to hide his face. “You already know,” he said, speaking almost too softly to be heard.
The room chilled with a cold edged silence. I let it linger for a moment before changing the subject. I turned around as if Callum and I were having a normal conversation over lunch. “Do sit down instead of lurking. You’re going to the garden workshop after breakfast, right? Could you give a message to my wife?”
He raised an eyebrow as he sat back in his seat, but thankfully, kept his mouth shut.
“Can you tell her that I agree to have dinner with her tomorrow?”
He pulled a disbelieving face. “Seriously, Kasten?”
I held up a finger with a warning look. “It’s not what you think. She tricked me into it. I couldn’t say no.”
A stupid grin slowly grew across his face. “What are you so worried about? You let her into your room, caring for you for over a week. You two must have talked. What’s the difference between meeting in your room and over dinner other than you being properly dressed?”
I shook my head. “It’s different. She wants to bandage and treat me. It helps her studies. It’s her passion. She only asked to have dinner because she feels she has to be a good wife. She doesn’t want to spend time with me. How is that even close to a comfortable situation? And I won’t meet any of her standards for polite company, so the whole experience will probably feel like we’re both pulling teeth.”
Callum rolled his eyes as if I were being overly dramatic. Then he frowned. “Why tomorrow? Why not tonight? You’ve been up since early dawn, and it’s not like you to delay things you’re nervous about.”
“I’m not nervous, I’m just…” I cut myself off, hearing how petty I sounded. I reached over and tossed him the letter from Adenburg.
He opened it and all amusement dropped. “You think this is happening again because they know you’re wounded?”
I grimaced. “Maybe. It would be worrying if so, but we should go and see. Today.”
Callum rubbed his forehead. “You’re not doing this to me, Kasten. You almost died less than two weeks ago, and this is hardly a walk around the park.” He brandished the letter at me. “They might not be Kollenstar soulless, but they’re closer than I’d like. Don’t you want a break from fighting?”
I shrugged. “I’ll be fine. You know I will. I’ll keep to the back of any fighting. We can’t just leave them loose or more people will get killed.”
Callum closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He seemed to be counting before he released it. “When do we leave?”
I glanced at the old clock on the mantelpiece. It was exactly midday. “In two hours. Can you make sure we have enough charged devices? Also I need two new freisk knives. Actually, make that three.”
He rolled his eyes. “What happened to your two? Don’t tell me you tried to block a sword with one again. They’re just for stabbing soulless. You know that.”
I glared at him in response.
He grabbed a dessert bun and stood. “I’ll start getting ready then. What shall I tell Sophie?”
I shrugged. “Tell her I’m on business outside the castle. Let her assume I’m still in Kasomere without directly lying.”
Callum raised an eyebrow. “The more she learns about the city’s mechanisms, the less that excuse will work, you realize.”
I waved him away and looked back to the window. Hopefully, she wouldn’t worry too much now that I was moving about. No need to worry her further by revealing what I was up to. She would be upset if she knew the truth.