Chapter 40
The past few days left me raw. I took a walk, seeking distance from Nicolas’ watchful eyes as I wandered past picnic blankets and clusters of guardsmen.
Only a day’s ride from the unpleasantness at Thornmarsh had taken us to Sunhill, a pleasant and sunny city that might have been immune to the harsh realities gripping the rest of Gallae.
Now we rested in a glen, traveling the road west to Molehill.
That night in Thornmarsh felt like a lifetime ago, though only four days had passed since I stumbled through the baron’s narrow door, Quinn’s blood soaking through my ruined clothes as I half-carried him inside.
Marcy swayed on Asli’s shoulder, a redundant ear dangling from where it should have been, yet by some miracle she remained conscious.
Nicolas was pacing by the fire when we stumbled in, a cup of mead halfway to his lips.
He saw me, covered in marsh filth and blood, Quinn barely conscious against my shoulder, and the color drained so quickly from his face that I thought he’d faint.
The common room erupted into chaos as people scattered to help.
“Alana!” He crossed the room, hands hovering over me in careful assessment before settling on my stomach. “Gods, what happened to you? We searched for hours. Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, but I couldn’t sign while I supported Quinn. Even if I had signed, Nicolas was too busy cataloguing me for injury to watch my hands.
“Cursed men,” Quinn managed through his exhaustion. “She’s unharmed. We got there in time.”
Nicolas’ gaze fell to Quinn’s mangled arm. He took hold of his face. “Look at me. Quinn?”
Quinn’s eyes finally found his. He smiled weakly, lulling his head to his shoulder.
“You’re a damned fool,” Nicolas scowled.
They stared at one another in wordless conversation. Then Nicolas barked his orders at the wise woman just as she entered the main room, overseeing every stitch in Quinn’s arm, holding him down when that tonic of wolfsbane made him thrash.
The wise woman bounced between both injured parties, treating their wounds before the sun could rise, but it was a constant effort of medicinal application and suturing.
I could only take so much agony. I had to leave, to return to our guestroom and take a bath. Even then, there was no escaping the sounds of Quinn and Marcy’s combined suffering, nor the argument between Nicolas and Adelaide that started up somewhere near the door to my guest chamber.
“Absolutely not!” the former queen shouted.
“Someone tried to murder my wife!” Nicolas’ voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “You spoke to me of a great desire to keep this baby safe. How is this protecting the child?!”
“Insolent boy! I will brook no argument. The tour continues as planned.”
Then her footsteps receded down the hall, and I had to wonder what more she’d said to Nicolas that I hadn’t been privy to.
There was no way in hell I was sleeping that night, not while my blood ran hot, so I made use of my time.
When the night was quiet at last and the sun was only a thought on the horizon, Nicolas found me in the guestroom, huddled near the hearth as I finished extracting the essence of the Silverwood Lotus.
I poured my decoction into a number of round glass bottles the baroness had provided for me, corking them off.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice startling the life out of me. I took a moment to recuperate, then faced him.
“A cure for Lady Navarro. Quinn told me about her condition.”
Exhaustion was catching up to me, and I barely had the capacity for conversation. But Nicolas was still, folding his arms over his chest. “You can cure her?”
“Maybe. The lotus I found is known for its purging benefits. It binds to heavy metals. Worst case scenario, I’ve made a shitty drink, but it’s possible I’ve come up with something that may help a number of women, including her.”
My words were slurred and tired. Nicolas pulled up a stool next to me. “How can I help?”
“Oh, Nicolas…”
“Quinn saved you.” I nodded. “He’s a brother to me. Tell me what you need.”
“I’m all but done,” I replied, wiping my eyes and reclining. “I may sleep through the day, after everything. Gods, did you eat?”
“No. There’s food, but I haven’t. And neither have you.” Nicolas frowned, his hand settling on top of mine. “I’ll get you something.”
I nodded, moving to follow him, but he held up a hand to stop me. Darkness settled in his eyes.
“Alana, why did he do that for you?”
“The viscount was my guardsman,” I replied, swallowing and hoping he wouldn’t notice the nervous tic. “And he remains my friend.”
“I’ve seen Quinn collapse at the sight of a border terrier.” The memory brought the briefest of smiles to his lips. It faded as he covered his mouth with a fist, murmuring the rest to himself. “Why would he brave wolves for you?”
“Are you unhappy with him?” I asked. “If he hadn’t come to help, I’m not sure I would have survived.”
“I’m unhappy with you for putting your life at risk. Our child’s. These people are hungry, and I understand you want to help them, Alana, but your life is worth the lot of them to me. If I’d lost you—” He caught himself, pinching his brow. “I would trade everyone in Gallae to keep you safe.”
I had no answer for him. Only fear that he would rescind my freedoms as punishment for my folly, that he would go back on his vow to let me lead an uncaged life.
His hand found my chin, tilting my face to meet his eyes. “Promise me you won’t take that sort of risk again.”
I nodded, knowing even as I did that it was a lie. We both knew it; I couldn’t resist the calling to help where I thought I could. Maybe it was in my blood. Perhaps I’d have been perfectly contented as an apothecary, after all.
We hadn’t spoken of it again—of the risks, or of Quinn.
Now, days later, I crested another hill in my aimless wandering. The sun beat down from its noon position and I wondered what the Lady might think of me, watching the world from up there.
I was just thinking of turning back when I saw a familiar figure sprawled in the grass of a lower valley.
Quinn lay with one arm flung over his eyes and the other, freshly bandaged and healing, tucked against his chest. The grass around him was flattened in an outline, as though he’d collapsed there and had barely moved since.
He seemed peaceful, at first. Then I noticed the tension in his jaw, his fingers twitching and clenching. His breathing was fast and shallow, and as I neared him, he made a sound that fell somewhere near a whimper.
I kneeled in the grass beside him. His face contorted, and he whispered again, this time a series of Hadrian words. Still, I knew the fear in them. Slowly, I reached out, my fingers grazing his shoulder.
His eyes flew open and he sat straight up, his skull smacking mine. We both recoiled, him falling into the grass while I massaged my forehead.
For a moment, he didn’t really see me. He just sat there, sweat caking his hair to his face as he made the return to reality. Then he blinked, and recognition dawned. His pupils constricted and he squinted, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sun behind me.
“Alana?”
I shifted to block out more of the sun, but he caught my wrist.
“No, stay there,” he said. “You’re an eclipse. Just…let me look at you a while longer.”
Heat crept into my cheeks. I freed my hand to sign. “Bad dreams?”
He laughed shakily, pushing himself up onto his good elbow with a wince. “Yeah. Is everything okay? Is it time to get moving?”
“I was walking. Found you here.” I paused, deciding to press the issue. “Your dreams…”
Quinn frowned. “Not letting me off the hook? Fine. I keep dreaming about those creatures. I feel the bite burning, spreading…and we haven’t seen the Banewights since, so how do I know the danger is over?”
“Those men were cursed for a reason,” I replied, rising to my feet. “You’re not like them.”
I offered him a hand. He looked up at me, confused.
“Kante was left at Castle Altaigne. Would you take me for a ride on Niro?”
He glanced toward the distant carriages.
“Just for a little while. We could both stand to clear our heads.”
Quinn studied my face. Then he softened, those full lips curling with mischief. “You’re worried about me.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t deny the accusation. He took my hand at last and let me help him up, swaying slightly as he found his footing. Then we walked to where Niro was tied off, keeping close enough that our arms occasionally brushed.
“Thank you,” he said as he untied the gelding from the shade tree. “For waking me up.”
“Maybe you’re still dreaming.” I winked.
His hands stopped working on the rope. He stared at me like I’d somehow knocked the breath from him.
“If I am,” he finally replied, “it’s already a much better dream than the last. Though, when you appear in my dreams, you usually…”
He caught himself.
“Never mind.”
“I usually what?” My brow raised.
“I’m a gentleman, Queen Alana, and it is my duty to shield you from such fantasies. I must protect your innocence.”
He helped me onto the horse, though with only one hand, I did most of the work. My thoughts went to that hand, and how it had risen up my skirts in the garden, as he mounted behind me. “Innocence?”
“You could have me killed, you know,” he whispered in my ear. A subtle kick got Niro going. “For even dreaming.”
I knew he could see my hands from there, so I replied. “Should I have you killed, Quinn?”
“Probably.”
The reply sat like a stone in the pit of my stomach, and then we rode in silence.
I sensed an uneasy feeling coming from Niro that intensified the further we traveled from the procession.
I chose to ignore it; my own anxieties were enough.
We rounded a formation that resembled a woman at rest, and the sun shined on the valleys beyond in a way I wished I could have captured.
The finest painter couldn’t do it justice.