She’s free of him now.

No, not now. Not ever.

What would I tell her? It would be easier if Mikael were dead.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

KADEN

So.

Our princess has a lover.

When I followed her into the forest, I thought I was finally going to get what I needed—time alone with her. But the farther she went, the more curious I became. Where could she possibly be going? My mind conjured a lot of possibilities but never conceived of the one that took me by surprise.

I watched her fly into his arms, kissing him, holding him like she’d never let go. The young man was obviously just as happy to see her. They disappeared into the ruins, still tangled in each other’s arms. What happened from there wasn’t hard for me to imagine.

All along, that was what drove her.

A lover.

That was why she ran from the marriage. I didn’t know why I should feel sick. Maybe it was the way she had looked into my eyes this morning. The way she lingered. The blush on her cheeks. It did something to me. Something I liked. Something that made me think maybe things could still be different. I thought about it all day as I rode to Luiseveque to leave a message. And then all the way back again, even though I tried to banish her from my thoughts. Maybe things could be different. Evidently not.

It felt like I had been punched in the gut—a feeling I wasn’t accustomed to. I usually guarded myself well in that regard. Wounds in the field were one thing, but these kind, they were sheer stupidity. I may have had the air knocked out of me, but Rafe looked like he had been trampled. Stupid sot.

When I turned to leave, he was standing just a dozen feet away, not even trying to hide his presence. He had seen it all. Apparently the smitten jackass had followed us. He didn’t speak when I saw him. I suspected he couldn’t.

I brushed past him. “It seems she’s true to her word. She isn’t the innocent sort, is she?”

He didn’t reply. A reply would have been redundant. His face already said it. Maybe now he’d be on his way once and for all.

Always on the wind.

I hear them coming.

Tell me again, Ama, about the storm.

There is no time for a story, child.

Please, Ama.

Her eyes are hollow.

There is no supper tonight.

A story is all I have to fill her.

It was a storm, that’s all I remember.

A storm that wouldn’t end.

A great storm, she prompts.

I sigh, Yes, and pull her to my lap.

Once upon a time, child,

Long, long ago,

Seven stars were flung from the sky.

One to shake the mountains,

One to churn the seas,

One to choke the air,

And four to test the hearts of men.

A thousand knives of light,

Grew to an explosive rolling cloud,

Like a hungry monster.

Only a little princess found grace,

A princess just like you …

A storm that made the ways of old meaningless.

A sharp knife, a careful aim, an iron will, and a listening heart,

Those were the only things that mattered.

And moving on. Always moving on.

Come, child, it is time to go.

The scavengers, I hear them rustling in the hills.

—The Last Testaments of Gaudrel

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

There were so many things I had wanted to say to Pauline today. So many things that seemed important at the time. I was going to lecture her for spreading stories about my fear of rabbits. Tease her for her undying resourcefulness even when sick. Tell her about Rafe bringing the baskets and my time in the canyon with him. I wanted to ask her what she thought it meant and talk about all the details of our lives, just as we always did at the end of the day when we were back in our room.

Now here I was alone in the dark, unable to face her, scratching a donkey behind his ears, whispering to him, “What should I do? What should I do?”

I had arrived terribly late to the dining room, bursting into the kitchen. Berdi was steaming as much as her kettle of stew. I had intended to tell her why I was late, but all I could utter was “I have news of Mikael” before my throat sealed shut. Berdi’s steam vanished, and she nodded, handing me a plate, and from there, the evening went by rote, a reprieve from the inevitable. I was so busy, there wasn’t time for further explanations. I smiled, I welcomed, I delivered, I cleaned. But my spicy words were few. Once I was caught at the watering station, staring at nothing at all, while the mug I was filling spilled over with cider. Pauline touched my elbow and asked if I was all right. “Just tired,” I answered. “I had a lot of sun today.” She tried to apologize for not helping with the berries, but I cut her short to go deliver the cider.

Kaden came alone to the dining room. I was relieved that Rafe hadn’t come. I was troubled enough without having to navigate his dark moods. Still, I found myself looking at the tavern door each time it opened, thinking he had to eat sooner or later. I tried to smile and offer my standard greetings to everyone, but when I brought Kaden his meal, he stopped me before I rushed off.

“Your fire seems dampened tonight, Lia.”

“I’m sorry. I might be a bit distracted. Did I forget something you wanted?”

“Your service is fine. What has you bothered?”

I paused, touched that he perceived my rattled state. “It’s only a little throbbing in my head. It will be fine.”

His eyes remained fixed on me, apparently unconvinced. I sighed and conceded. “I’m afraid I received some disheartening news today from my brother.”