by Tanya Bird
‘They were desperate to gain your attention, to be seen and heard—and it worked. Please. Let them return to their families who are already suffering more than you can imagine.’ Seeing his hesitation, she added, ‘You could do it. You could go to that tower and release them yourself, be the hero of the story. They’ll not forget it.’
He searched her eyes for a moment. ‘If I do that, they will think they won.’
Lyndal stared at him in confusion. ‘Your Grace, you’re on the same side. It’s not you against your people, it’s Chadora against the famine. Their win is your win. But right now the merchants are losing, which means we’re all losing.’
Astin’s throat thickened, and a realisation hit him hard. She really was the queen Chadora deserved. He had been too lost in his jealousy to truly see it.
Borin looked to his mother. ‘And what am I supposed to say to these criminals? Am I expected to simply pardon them and open the gate?’
‘Yes,’ Lyndal said immediately. ‘That’s how an act of mercy works. Maybe it’ll result in one less riot down the track, or maybe it won’t. But you do it anyway.’
Borin tapped a foot on the ground, looking between the two women.
‘I think you should listen to her,’ Fayre said after a long silence.
‘And be seen as weak?’
Fayre shook her head. ‘Acting out of pride and anger is weakness. Showing mercy takes incredible strength.’
Borin huffed like an angry bull. ‘Fine. Let us go to the tower before I come to my senses.’ He looked at Lyndal. ‘You will stand at my side so I can blame you when they turn on me.’ With that, he marched off in the direction of the gate, two guards flanking him.
‘Off you go,’ Fayre said to Lyndal. ‘You do not need me.’ The corners of her mouth lifted slightly when she said that.
‘Do hurry up,’ Borin shouted over his shoulder, prompting Lyndal to start walking.
Astin ground his teeth together and followed them.
When they arrived at the tower, Astin trailed Lyndal up the winding narrow steps, to a cell halfway up where all the prisoners had been packed in. Lyndal stood at the king’s side while he addressed them in a slightly less obnoxious tone than usual. It was interesting to Astin that the prisoners were not watching the king but were looking at Lyndal. And when the cell door swung open, they continued to look at her, as though they did not trust what the king had said.
‘There’s nothing to fear,’ Lyndal reassured them. ‘The defenders will escort you to the gate. You’re going home.’ She moved back, going to stand with Astin.
Slowly and cautiously, the merchants filed out, each one pausing to bow or curtsy before descending the steps.
Borin lifted his chin and pushed out his narrow chest, visibly pleased by the show of respect.
‘At least he’s happy,’ Lyndal whispered to Astin.
‘Until he realises the truth.’
‘The truth?’ She looked up at him.
The young king was not the only one who was clueless about what was happening at that moment. Leaning in so Borin would not hear, he said, ‘They’re not bowing to their king. They’re bowing to you.’
Chapter 22
Lyndal pushed the covers back and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She looked around the dark, empty room, then went to the window and pulled the shutters open, taking in greedy lungfuls of air. She stilled when she caught sight of the sky. There was a gap in the clouds, and a handful of stars shone down at her. A smile spread across her face. It had been a long time since she had seen stars.
Walking over to the door, she pulled it open. Roul appeared in front of her before she had a chance to step outside, his solid frame illuminated by torchlight.
‘Everything all right, my lady?’ he asked, looking past her into the room.
‘I would like to go to the fountain court.’
‘Now?’
She nodded.
Roul glanced down the corridor. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Fletcher would prefer you safe in your bedchamber.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘History has proven that my bedchamber is the least safe place for me.’
He released a heavy breath. ‘All right.’ Looking her up and down, he added, ‘Cloak? Shoes?’
Ah. She slipped on some boots and put on her thickest cloak. Tugging the hood up, she stepped past Roul and headed for the stairs.
The air in the courtyard was still and crisp as she stepped outside and looked up at the sky. ‘When was the last time you saw stars, Thornton?’
‘Yesterday during training.’
She laughed quietly as she made her way over to the fountain and lay down on the edge. Clasping her hands over her stomach, she stared up at the sky. The running water was loud in her ear, exactly what she needed to drown out her thoughts. Roul stood a few feet away with the same serious expression Harlan always wore.
‘I can’t sleep,’ she confessed. ‘I’m so tired, but my mind won’t stop.’
At first she thought he did not hear her, but then he said, ‘Are you afraid of fire?’
She blinked, and tears slid into her hair. ‘I’m afraid I’ll die alone in that room.’
He nodded. ‘Well, you’re not in that room now—and you’re not alone. So sleep if you want to.’
Her eyelids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds suddenly. She blinked a few times and found she could not keep her eyes open. ‘If the stars can break through this eternal cloud cover, then why can’t the sun?’
She never heard his reply, because sleep took her.
Lyndal woke to blinding daylight and running water. She turned her head, registering the fountain, then sat up with a gasp.
‘Good sleep?’
Her head whipped around, and there was Astin standing five feet away, watching her. She looked down at the rolled-up cloak that had been placed under her head as a pillow. Picking it up, she held it out to him. ‘You didn’t have to freeze on my account.’
He stepped forwards to take it. ‘You were sleeping on stone.’ He continued to watch her as he put it on. ‘Thornton tells me you were out here most of the night.’
‘And some of the day, it seems.’ She stood and stretched her arms luxuriously above her head, feeling rested for the first time since the fire. ‘Did he tell you that we saw stars?’
‘Oddly, that was not part of his debriefing, no.’
She smiled at the ground. A few weeks earlier, they had barely tolerated one another’s company, and now seeing him each morning was one of the highlights of her day.
‘The king and queen mother have asked to see you,’ he said.
She stilled. ‘Together? Am I in trouble?’
He angled his head. ‘Not to my knowledge. Unless there’s something you wish to confess.’
She shook her head. ‘Not if you don’t already know about it. I suppose I should go get cleaned up.’ She looked down at her nightdress, visible through the split of the cloak.
‘Probably a good idea.’
Astin stood outside her bedchamber while she washed and dressed, then escorted her to the terrace, where Borin and Fayre were playing chess.
‘Finally,’ Borin said, rising from his chair.
Lyndal curtsied and found a smile. ‘Apologies for keeping you waiting, Your Grace. You wished to see me?’
The queen mother rose also, going to stand beside her son with a coy smile. ‘The king has a gift for you.’
‘A gift?’ That was the one possibility she had not considered. ‘How thoughtful.’
‘This way,’ Borin said, marching away.
He never offered her his arm or gestured for her to go ahead. He was forever in a rush in her presence. She always felt like an inconvenience. But she followed dutifully, glancing once over her shoulder at Astin, who remained at the edge of the terrace.
‘Down there,’ Borin said, pointing over the balustrade.
She approached slowly, peering over the edge. Below was a one-horse wagon carrying
a dead cow. Its throat was cut, and its tongue hung out. The head dangled over the back at a strange angle.
‘Oh. It’s a… dead animal.’
‘Bled out and ready for butchering,’ Borin said. Registering her confused expression, he added, ‘For your charity work. Mother told me you like to feed the poor.’
He said that like it was an unusual leisure pursuit of hers. ‘Yes, I’m quite partial to keeping people alive.’
The joke blew past him. ‘Well, do with it as you wish. You are free to go to the merchant borough. The kitchen staff should be able to assist you with whatever you need.’
It was the nicest thing he had ever done—even if it was his mother’s idea. He appeared to be trying, so she took the olive branch he was offering her. ‘Perhaps you would like to accompany me.’
He snorted. ‘Do you honestly expect the king of Chadora to ladle soup into bowls for the poor? I do not even ladle soup into my own bowl.’
She had dined with him enough times to know that was true.
‘Oh, and I have invited your uncle to dine with us tonight. He is keen to see how you are getting on.’
Lyndal tried to keep her face neutral.
‘You will join us for dinner this evening,’ he said. It was an order, not an invitation. ‘And make sure the plebeians know where the meat has come from. Credit where credit is due and all that.’
Her smile seemed to have frozen on her face. ‘I shall sing your praises from their eroding rooftops, Your Grace.’
With a curt nod, he strode off in the other direction.
Queen Fayre walked over to Lyndal, looking rather pleased with herself. ‘He is a better man already because of you. Someday, he will be a better king.’
Lyndal peered over the edge at the ox again. ‘A generous gift, yet he’s no fonder of me.’
‘Give him time. His pride is likely wounded from the dinner you shared the other night.’
Lyndal looked back at her with a questioning expression.
‘When he asked you to join him in his bedchamber,’ the queen mother explained.
Lyndal felt the colour drain from her face. ‘He told you about that?’
Fayre’s eyes shone with amusement. ‘He does not take rejection well, and he needs to be reassured that he is not the problem.’
‘Does that make me the problem?’
The queen mother suppressed a smile. ‘You were the perfect lady, but you must learn to say no in a way that does not wound his fragile ego. It is an art form, one I can teach you.’
That would be a fun lesson.
‘Fletcher,’ Fayre called.
Astin made his way over to them. ‘Yes, Your Majesty?’
‘Lady Lyndal will be travelling to the merchant borough. Take a few extra men with you. The nobility can access the borough at any time, so better to take precautions.’ She turned back to Lyndal. ‘We still have a few weeks left to win them over.’
Lyndal released a breath. ‘Good to know.’ She lowered into a curtsy. ‘Your Majesty.’
Fayre bowed her head before following her son.
‘Did you know about this gift?’ Lyndal asked Astin once they were alone.
‘I did, yes.’
She began walking. ‘A simple “the king is gifting you a dead animal” would have been a nice heads-up.’
‘It’s not my place to ruin his romantic surprises.’
She looked up at him. ‘Would it be possible to get word to my sisters and mother that I’ll be in the square today?’
He nodded. ‘I’ll send someone to the house.’
When she looked back at the ground, she noticed their steps were perfectly in sync. Sometime over the previous few weeks, he had started shortening his stride, and she had started lengthening hers. Now their feet hit the earth in unison, and that made her chest feel light and her bones hum.
‘Watch where you’re walking, not down at your feet,’ Astin said.
She met his gaze. ‘A few weeks ago, you would have laughed hysterically if I had collided with something.’
‘You mean before I was responsible for your safety?’
They entered the castle side by side. Clearing her throat, Lyndal said, ‘You know, we haven’t really spoken properly since the fire. I hope you know how grateful I am to you. Not only for saving my life but for all the kindness you showed. You truly did go above and beyond duty.’
He was silent.
She glanced up at him. ‘Did you hear me?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re supposed to say something nice back.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He did not look at her when he spoke.
Her brow furrowed. ‘Have I missed something here? Done something?’
Taking her hand suddenly, Astin pulled her into a doorway. She held her breath as he dipped his head to speak.
‘What exactly are you fishing for here?’ His voice was laced with irritation.
She stared up at him. ‘I was simply thanking you. You guard me as you would the king. I see it, and I appreciate it.’
He let go of her wrist. ‘You know, I don’t tend to cradle the king in my arms.’
She searched his eyes. ‘Why not? I’m certain he would like it.’
Astin raked a hand over his short hair, then brought his face closer to hers. She did not know whether he was going to reprimand her or kiss her. Of course he was not going to kiss her. So why did her lips part and her heart speed up?
‘The plan hasn’t changed, has it?’ he whispered. ‘You want the crown.’
He was so close she could feel his breath on her face. She leaned into the sensation, and he drew back, waiting for her answer.
‘What I want is to help the merchants,’ she said.
‘So you’ll marry the king.’
Her heart threatened to burst through her ribcage now. ‘Yes.’
His gaze fell to her lips, lingered there for a long moment, and then he stepped back out into the corridor. ‘Then let’s go.’
She took a moment to drift back down from wherever she had floated off to, then joined him in the light. She found herself unable to look up at him. ‘If there was another way, I would do that instead.’
He nodded, hands on his hips. ‘You don’t have to explain. I get it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.’ He gestured for her to start walking.
She obeyed. This time when they walked, she had to lengthen her stride to keep up, and her feet hit the floor out of time with his.
Chapter 23
While the carcass was being skinned and butchered, Lyndal tried to convince Wallis, the kitchen maid, to join her on a quest to the merchant borough.
‘The king said I could ask the staff for help,’ Lyndal said when Wallis responded with “No way.”
Wallis continued chopping onions. ‘So ask someone who wants to go.’
Lyndal glanced over at Astin, who was leaning in the doorway not looking at her, then returned her attention to the maid. ‘When was the last time you left the royal borough? Don’t you miss the hustle of the merchant borough?’
‘I heard there are dead bodies on the street.’
‘Bodies that will have likely been collected by the time we get there.’ Not her strongest argument but worth pointing out. ‘And you have the opportunity to be part of the solution. Fewer dead bodies tomorrow because of your good deed today.’
Astin coughed—his only contribution.
Wallis picked up a turnip and washed it in a bowl of water. ‘I’ve got enough work to do here.’
Lyndal tried another approach. ‘I understand. I’ll ask someone else. The king might have some fresh suggestions for me.’
When she went to turn away, Wallis stopped her.
‘Wait.’ She let out a resigned breath. ‘Are the rumours true? About you and the king?’
Lyndal backed away from the bench. ‘I’m really not at liberty to speak about it.’
‘Fine. I’ll do it. But you better remember this good deed if those rumours prov
e true.’ She placed the knife down, hands going to her hips. ‘What do you need?’
A smile spread across Lyndal’s face. ‘I’m going to need some very large pots and as many vegetables as you can spare.’
Lyndal did not know how to fix what had broken between her and Astin that morning. He walked beside the wagon, still refusing to look at her. Acknowledging feelings of any kind seemed like a bad idea, but pretending the conversation had never happened did not seem helpful either.
‘So serious, defender,’ she said. ‘Any potential threats identified?’ If humour did not work, she could always throw a piece of onion at him.
No response.
‘We haven’t even left the borough yet. What could possibly have you so preoccupied?’
His gaze drifted in her direction. ‘We’re in shooting range of the wall, and you’re an easy target right now.’
She refused to let him spook her. ‘Are you suggesting there’s a defender atop the wall who wishes me dead?’
‘Any one of those men has the skill to carry it out on another’s behalf.’
That shut her up.
She glanced nervously up at the wall, then behind her to the six cast-iron pots filled with meat and vegetables. There were another two filled with bones and organs, as well as an assortment of bowls and spoons. She decided to focus on the task ahead.
When they passed through the gate into the square, Astin’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. He signalled something to the other defenders who had travelled with them, and they dispersed.
Once the wagon rolled to a stop, Lyndal and Wallis stepped down to set up. They asked some merchants to help build the fires for cooking, then went to fetch water from the well. Within the hour, two pots of soup simmered away.
Lyndal kept an eye out for her family, and just when she thought they were not going to show up, she spotted Blake and Eda at the edge of the square. Candace was not with them.
‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ Lyndal told Wallis before making her way over to her sisters. Astin followed at a distance.
The three sisters stood in awkward silence for a full minute before anyone spoke.
