Chapter 27 #2
A brisk wind blew between us. Sahra shivered, bundled warmly in unfamiliar spotted furs of gold and black atop sheepskin. Beneath the cloak, bright patterns emerged with the gust.
“What brought you into the Banewights?” I asked, cautious but curious.
“Asli wanted to join. He has always felt the call to adventure, even if it meant sticking his nose into strangers’ affairs. I came because I knew that I would not see him again if I stayed.”
I frowned. “And your betrothed?”
Perhaps prospective marriage held another weight in Aduran.
“Killed,” Sahra said succinctly. Her lids shut in memory, and then she looked up at me.
“An envious witch cursed him with a sickness that would only heal if he decided to marry her instead. She might have cursed me, but the Doonles cannot be touched by magic.” She paused, shaking her head. “My love chose death.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, or if I had enough room in my heart for more sadness. I only slanted my lips, gracing her at least with a look of pity.
Sahra returned to the moment. “You have a strange aura about you, you know? You glow. Not to others, but I can see it clear as day.” She put a hand on the fence. “Someone cursed you.”
My heart caught in my throat. Before me stood a hunter of witches, but more importantly, a person who could see the magic flowing around me; not my own, perhaps, but traces of the truth.
I had little choice but to indulge her curiosity.
“Yes. A witch cursed me before I was born. I cannot speak in the presence of men, lest they fall bewitched.”
And if Sahra went to tell a soul, I’d drive a knife through her heart.
Sahra’s breath hitched. “I have heard this story before, from Taran, though I did not know it was about you. But I saw you speaking to—” She hesitated mid-thought. I watched her, measuring her intentions as she reconsidered her words. “Does Prince Nicolas know?”
“He does, but I’ve won him over in other ways,” I replied with a hawkish glare, momentarily forgetting my anger at him.
“He was the first person I ever met, beyond my parents. I stopped him from stepping on an adder. I’ve saved him from a few such serpents in the months after.
When you cannot speak, you tend to be more observant.
” I quirked a brow. “Will you tell anyone?”
Perhaps it was foolish to take her at her word, but Sahra at least seemed to be an upfront woman.
If she planned on reporting me to Taran, she might have mentioned the glow to him already.
“Your secret’s safe with me. Asli will not know; he can only see the magic of men. I’m blessed with the Lady’s sight.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It didn’t make sense; why would a Banewight seek me out and point out the curse if not to threaten me, or urge me to step down from my title? “Why?”
Sahra laughed. “It doesn’t matter what you did to make the prince love you. If it wasn’t a curse, then another woman would’ve seduced him eventually. There are no laws against that.” I settled and dismounted Kante, letting him graze.
“It must be difficult for you to navigate court without speaking to any of the men,” Sahra pointed out. “Have you considered speaking in signs?”
“Speaking in what?”
Sahra put her hands before her, performing an intricate dance of motion and fingers. “There is a language that requires only the hands to speak. It may look complicated, but it is not so difficult to learn.”
I tracked the movements with fascination, able somehow to see that her spoken words matched with the gestures, even if I wouldn’t have understood the signs on their own.
If such a language truly existed, and if she could teach others, then I could speak freely with the court, with Viscount Q— My thoughts stilled.
“I would be more than happy to teach you,” Sahra offered. In the distance, a woman hollered, throwing her hand up over her head. I didn’t have to squint to know it was Angharad. “I will offer group lessons. The kingdom should not allow its future queen to go ignored.”
My heart fluttered with hope. “Sahra, that would be—”
“Yoo-hoo! Alana!”
I paused, then took Sahra’s hands in my own. “Yes. I cannot adequately express my gratitude for the offer, but it would mean so much to me.”
“And it would give me something to do,” Sahra replied, turning to watch Angharad shuffle down the hill. “I do not believe I have the mind for the Lady’s Chamber. These women do not like me.”
“Why not?”
Sahra shrugged. “I suppose they would make poor courtiers if they told me.”
With a brief curtsy, she made her exit just as Angharad rushed over, nearly stumbling into the wooden fence. She caught herself, adjusting her hair, and I thought she might be the faintest bit drunk. It wasn’t even lunchtime.
“Oh good, she’s gone,” Angharad sighed, glancing over her shoulder at the disappearing Banewight. She turned to me, flashing a grin. “Dreary girl.”
“She seemed fine to me,” I replied, taking Kante by the reins. “What brings you out here? It’s quite cold.”
“My husband told me I needed a walk to…sober up,” she replied, red-faced and half-lidded. She looked to the horse. “That’s your beast, eh? He’s a lovely thing. I’ve never seen a lady riding alone out here before. Didn’t think it was allowed.”
I smiled, patting Kante on the side. “Our rides bring light to otherwise miserable days.”
“And today is one of those,” Angharad agreed, clumsily making her way through the gaps in the horizontal planks.
Her dress snagged on a splinter, but she managed without tearing it.
“A beheading is a dreadful way to start a day. I don’t suppose it’s a fine ending, either.
When do you suppose it’s best? After lunch?
Then you pose a risk of losing your meal.
But if you do it before lunch, no one will want to eat—”
“Shall we walk?” I asked, already tired of the subject. I’d come to enjoy Angharad’s irreverence, but this was too much.
“I heard there’s a shortage of food up north, that it will only grow worse because of flooding.” Angharad sighed, changing the subject to something equally depressing. “Not that it will affect us. We’ll remain plump while the world around us falls to pieces.”
“Angharad, perhaps you’d be better off indoors.” I frowned. “You seem unwell.”
“Not every conversation is a happy one. Please allow me to vent my frustrations.”
I was taken aback by the commanding tone, but tried to spare her a show of authority. She was vulnerable, not malicious.
“I wonder how it is in Demagret. Perhaps the position will need filling.”
“Are you weary of Gallae?” I asked.
“I fear for our future,” Angharad replied. “Gallae is no stranger to hard times. Neither am I, but I would like to spend my remaining youth enjoying myself—oh, good gods!”
Robert swooped down with little warning, hitting the ground and flapping his wings wildly. He cawed, a glimmer of something shiny in his mouth, dropping it into the dirt just before Angharad swung a leg at him. He took the hit, tumbling backwards.
“Angharad!” I shouted, startling Kante.
He reared up, whinnying in protest, and whipped his head around in alarm. Angharad stepped back as I went to Robert, bending over him. The corvid was merely a bit dazed, and once he regained himself, he gave one last look and took off.
“It’s a crow, for gods’ sake,” Angharad mumbled, brushing off her skirts. “They bring pestilence.”
“Not Robert.” I searched the dead grass for whatever he’d dropped.
Eventually I found it: a ring with a large square garnet at its center.
It was a gorgeous red, deep as wine or fresh blood, set in gold that had been worked into elaborate swirls and flowers along the band.
The stone glowed with inner fire, capturing what little light filtered through the clouds.
The color made me think of Quinn, who favored reds in his clothing. He’d been scarce through the proceedings this morning…
“Robert?” Angharad asked, breaking the moment. “Why is a crow bringing you jewelry? And why is his name Robert?”
“I feed him, and he brings me things. I call him Robert because he’s an insatiable thief, and it sounds like ‘Robber’,” I answered, rising to my feet. I soothed Kante, once again taking the reins. “I’m going to retire him. He’s all riled up now, anyway. You should go inside, have some tea.”
Angharad frowned. “Perhaps I should. My apologies, Your Highness, I seem to have disturbed you greatly.”
“There is no need to apologize.” My attention returned to the ring as I closed it in my palm. “We are all a bit out-of-sorts.”