Chapter 36
As concerned as Otho was with my ability to fit in in Malheim, by the time Leif left my room the next morning, it was basically accepted that I was back—with a few small changes.
Mainly the fact that my door was to remain unguarded, meaning they trusted me now.
Or at least, Leif did.
I didn’t want to investigate why they trusted me, and the implications behind that. Not when I had other things to worry about.
It probably wouldn’t last anyway, because I still needed to find out where they were holding my cousin, but at least this made my search easier.
And I wouldn’t have to ask Leif, or alert him to the reason I was really here.
Although we had eaten breakfast together, and I found myself still smiling shyly at his compliments, the burning fire he seemed to feel in his chest for me wasn’t reciprocated in my own.
I brushed my gut feeling off, telling myself it was just because I was worried for my cousin, but deep down I knew the truth.
Which wouldn’t matter because I would be leaving in six days’ time anyway.
As soon as our plates were cleared, and Leif pressed a passionate kiss on my lips, closing the door behind him, I jumped into action.
Digging through the clothes I was provided, I found the shortest dress possible—one of the ones that required the leg-hugging pants usually used for riding—before braiding my hair.
I had long ago lost my sense of time and how much time had passed since I had last dressed as Milo, but as I braided my hair and the tip of my braid nearly reached my waist, I knew it had been a long time.
While it was common on Heimland for both men and women to keep long hair, unless their duties made it difficult, only women had hair that dipped below the waist. Why, I had no idea, but it was an old tradition that had long stuck.
Once I was dressed, I peered around the corner of the doorframe to find the courtyard bustling with morning activity. There were several individuals rushing from one side to the other, some carrying items while others appeared to be on their way to pick something up.
But there was no Leif, and no Hansen, so I made my move.
I exited the door, ensuring my back was straight and a light smile rested on my lips. If anyone asked, I was simply exploring. Nothing more.
I walked around the exterior of the courtyard, peering in any open doorways and making a mental note of those that were closed. Assumably, Collum would be used for her reading powers, meaning it might be as simple as just waiting for her to be summoned.
That thought reminded me with a pinch in my chest that I too, could be summoned at any time. Though Leif hadn’t mentioned me reading anything further when he had left that morning.
“Enjoying your walk?” I turned toward the voice. It was a young woman, about my same age. She sat in the shadow of the courtyard, a water-filled bucket at her feet, which she stirred with a wooden pole.
“Yes, very much so.” The lie slipped easily from my lips.
She continued stirring. “I haven’t seen you around much before.”
I took a hurried inventory of the courtyard, trying to deduce who might be listening, but it appeared most were too busy so I decided I would answer honestly. “I just got back last night. Before . . . I wasn’t allowed to leave my room.”
Her lips gathered in a knowing way as she took in my state of dress. “I know how that is.”
“You do?” I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but any information I could glean would be more than I had before.
“I’m a second child.”
My head tilted to the side of its own accord as my brows furrowed. “You have the one-child policy in Malheim?”
She let out a low chuckle, “I don’t know where you are from but the one-child rule applies to all of Heimland. Any additional children must be submitted for labor on their twelfth birthday.”
Now I really was wondering. “I thought the one-child law was something Viscount Adis dreamed up.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s been around since before both you and I were born. My parents said it was around before they were born as well.”
I frowned. With all the time Leif and I had spent together, I was disappointed that we had never discussed this. “Who . . .” My mind flickered back to what she had just revealed. “Who made the law then?”
A sad smile graced her lips and I squinted, trying to see her eyes better, but she was seated deep in the shadows. “I’m not sure myself, but I know it goes far above the powers of Viscount Adis and Viscount Hansen. I think it may have originally come from the king.”
The king who hadn’t been seen in Malheim or Ralheim for over a decade.
My gaze flickered to the courtyard. It was still quite busy, with numerous servants still performing tasks. “It seems to benefit them the most.”
She shrugged. “Imagine how it must benefit the person who issued the decree then.”
My mind fog cleared, and I remembered who I was talking to. “I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name.”
She dipped her chin. “The apology is mine. I should have started with that before griping about the one-child ruling. My name is Ena.”
“Ena.”
“Yes, like the fruit.”
I had no idea what fruit she was talking about, but I didn’t want her to know that. “I’m Runa.” I moved my hand to perform the formal greeting, but Ena waved it off.
“I don’t perform the greeting of the oppressors.”
The word she used sent shivers down my spine. I had never heard anyone else refer to either viscount in that way, or to decline a greeting.
“You shouldn’t either.” Her eyes remained fixed on the bucket of water at her feet. “You are nothing but a tool to them.”
I swallowed. The conversation had taken a very dark turn, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I wasn’t sure if I should even still be having it.
Somehow, she must have sensed that, because she pointed to her eye, finally giving me a good look at what I had been silently wondering all along and continued, “I’m no Seid, but many servants who have come through here over the years were. I recognize the ring.”
I nodded, not sure how to process all of this information.
If many Seid had come through here over the years, where were they now?
One look at Ena told me she couldn’t be that much older than I was.
I decided to switch the topic back to something else.
“I, uh . . .” The courtyard hustle and bustle was the same as before, hopefully still enough to provide continued privacy. “I am looking for my cousin, actually.”
“Ah. Your cousin is also—” She pointed to her eye.
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, I haven’t seen her, but I’m sure Hansen will call for her soon. He’s desperate to win this battle against Adis. So desperate he’s getting sloppy.”
“You know a lot for a—”
She cut me off. “A servant? Let me tell you a secret, Runa.” This time it was her who looked around before beckoning me closer. “They have long underestimated us—both Adis and Hansen. I heard what you and your cousin did for the servants there.”
So, news had traveled.
“And I think people in both Ralheim and Malheim are suffering. They are tired of watching their children fight what will be an endless war. Tired of giving any child beyond their first to the government. The populations in the villages have been shrinking while the number of servants and soldiers has only grown. But Adis and Hansen forgot one thing.”
“What?” The word was barely a whisper.
“That we all come from the same place. We all have the same background, and we are all angry.”
I nodded. I knew what I needed to tell her next.
I still wasn’t sure I could trust this woman, but after this conversation I had to hope I could.
“Listen.” I moved even closer, sinking down to my knee beside the chair.
At this point, I would rather people saw me acting abnormally than hear what I was about to say.
“There will be an attack in five days. The attacker has agreed to spare anyone who crosses into the woods with me. I want you to come with me.”
Ena didn’t appear as shocked as I had assumed. I had specifically left out details, like the time of the attack, just in case this was still some sort of elaborate trap.
“And then?”
“And then you help us fight the war.”
“On whose side?”
I hoped Otho didn’t mind that I was about to steal his words. “On your own side—the side that is tired of being forced to build this Heimland up and serve it without receiving any of the benefits or the rights afforded to those in charge.”
Her head bobbed and I swore I saw moisture gathering in her eyes. “I’ll be there.”
“Good.” I stood and surveyed the courtyard once again. “Now, if you will excuse me, Ena, I have to find my cousin.”
She pointed to one side of the courtyard. “He keeps the Seid in those rooms, usually.”
I took a step toward them before remembering I had one more question to ask. “Ena, where can I find you when the time comes?”
She pointed to a door on the opposite side of the courtyard. “That’s the hall to the servants’ quarters. I’m the fifth door on the left.”
“All right.” I swallowed, the memories of my own time in Adis’s servants’ quarters rising to the surface. “I’ll see you then.”
I moved away, toward the doors she had pointed out. I had passed them earlier, but they had all been closed, just as they were now.
But, unlike before, I now had more information, which had me seeing the doors in a new light.
There were four of them between my current position and the door I had emerged from, and only one had a guard stationed outside.
Which meant I knew exactly where Collum was being kept.
I was pretty sure fate was at play here. How else could I explain that I had met Ena within my first day of being back? Regardless, I still swore to tread carefully moving forward, ensuring I tucked my dagger into my bodice each time I left my room. Just in case.
My plans to rescue Collum that evening were foiled when there was a knock at my door just after I finished dinner.
Before I could answer, the door swung open to reveal Leif leaning against the doorframe, one arm above his head, a satisfied smile on his face.
He moved his neck, effectively flicking the hair out of his face.
While it was an attractive move, it didn’t cause flames inside me anymore.
Whatever had been so special between us, likely just the novelty, was fading, and fast. The empathy I had read told me it was completely different for him.
I frowned. I knew I needed to keep the ruse going, but I didn’t want to hurt Leif any more than I had to, either. Though it was becoming apparent to me that we weren’t a match, I didn’t hate him.
Before I could answer, he was crossing the room in large strides and pulling me into his arms. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
That did it. The tears flowed down my face. “I’m sorry, Leif.”
“About what, my heart?”
I pulled back and sucked a deep breath into my lungs, which only sped up the tears. I couldn’t stop the confession that was coming.
Leif moved to the sitting area in the corner of the room, pulling me down on the settee next to him before pulling a cloth out of his pocket and wiping up my tears.
“Talk to me, my heart.”
I nodded, but it wasn’t until several moments later that my tears slowed enough for me to be able to formulate words. “I’m sorry, Leif,” I said at last, my voice a near whisper, “But I don’t think I feel the same way about you that you feel about me.”
The moment I stopped speaking, several emotions crossed his face. “But . . . we are weighted.”
“I know, Leif, but this . . . this pull you speak of . . . I don’t feel it when we are apart. I also didn’t miss you today.” His face crumpled, so I hurriedly added, “I like you, Leif, I just don’t want you thinking something about me that isn’t true.”
“I understand.” His grip on my arms fell and he leaned back against the couch. “I was just so sure—”
“Maybe there is just something wrong with me?” I suggested.
Leif shook his head vehemently before pulling me back to his chest until I was now sprawled across his lap. “No, you are perfect, Runa. I just . . . I thought when I felt the pull . . . I was so certain . . .”
The only thing I felt at his words was relief.
“But . . .” His voice quickened. “Maybe there is something else going on, like you said. Maybe it has something to do with how we met. I must research this!” His attitude completely changed and he brushed me aside, jumping from the couch and running toward the door. “Come on, let’s go to the library.”
I bit my lip. I needed to find Collum tonight, the rolling in my gut told me as much. “Leif, I’m really tired. Maybe I can go with you tomorrow?”
The smile faded from his features, but I could feel the understanding flowing my way as well. “Sure, my heart. I’ll come get you first thing in the morning.” He bounded back across the room to pull me up and place a kiss on my lips.
Then he was out the door, the sound of his footsteps fading.
I waited until I could no longer hear them at all before slipping my dagger, which I had hidden under the mattress, into my bodice. I still didn’t know how to use it, but hopefully I wouldn’t need to.
Taking a quick moment to practice my wind power, which was stronger now, thanks to Askel’s coaching, I ducked out the door and made my way to the door Leif had used to take me to the lake.
The field beyond was dark; the only light was that of the glow bugs, which were just beginning to wake up for their nightly task of jumping from grass blade to grass blade.
The moons would rise soon, and by then it would be too late.
Taking in a deep breath, I screamed.
Then, I spun and ran back toward my room, crossing the path of the guard who stood in front of Collum’s room. As I drew closer, I could see the apprehension on his features.
“Help! There’s . . . there’s . . . I saw . . . a man . . . weapon!” It was nothing more than words between my heaving breaths, but it did the trick. The guard dipped his chin, running past me and out the door I had just come through.
Proud of myself, I pushed the door to my cousin’s room open.
The image that met my eyes ripped the air from my lungs.