Gwyneth snorted. “Or you’d get an arrow in your chest before you got a chance to say anything at all.”
It was well known that during conclave sessions, guards in full regalia, armed with bows and arrows, were posted in two gallery towers that overlooked Aldrid Hall. An arrow had never been shot by them. It was ceremonial, another tradition held over from earlier times, when lords from across Morrighan convened—but the guards’ arrows were real, and I presumed they knew how to shoot them. The last time I had stormed in, I’d known they wouldn’t shoot the king’s daughter. This time I didn’t have that assurance.
“Yes, it’s possible I could get shot,” I agreed. “I can’t figure everything out at once. Right now I just need to find evidence. I know the Chancellor and Royal Scholar are involved, but when I searched their offices, I turned up nothing. They’re so clean not even a dust mote dared to hang in the air. There is also—”
I stopped. My mother. These two small words I couldn’t force loose. No. Not her. They were a wall inside me, unscalable even after what I had seen. I couldn’t say her name in the same breath as the other traitors’. She would never have put Walther at risk. She loved him too much for that. Some things were true and real. They had to be. I closed my eyes, seeing the sky full of stars and the rooftop she’d led me away from. There’s nothing to know, sweet child. It’s only the chill of the night.
I had seen her with the Royal Scholar myself, and I knew he was mired in this. His favored scholars worked in the Sanctum caverns. Berdi and Gwyneth reached across the table and squeezed my hands and I opened my eyes.
“Hey, can I get in on some of that?”
I looked up. Pauline was awake. I went to her bedside and sat on the edge, and we all took turns kissing and congratulating her before Berdi nestled the baby into her arms.
Gwyneth helped Pauline get the baby latched and feeding at her breast, then stood back proudly with her hands on her hips. “Look at that. He takes to it like a champion.”
“Have a name for him yet?” Berdi asked.
A brief cloud passed through Pauline’s eyes. “No.”
“Plenty of time for that later,” Berdi said. “I’ll see if we have something better than that old torn shirt to wrap him in.”
“Maybe one of those two-headed sweaters you knitted?” Gwyneth winked, and she and Berdi went to the opposite corner and began unpacking the bag they had brought.
I reached out and touched a tiny pink toe that peeked from Kaden’s swaddling shirt. “He’s beautiful,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“Well enough,” she answered, rolling her eyes, “considering I just paraded my lady parts to a killer barbarian.” She sighed. “But I suppose, compared to what you’ve been through, it’s a small indignity to bear.”
I smiled at the baby. “And look at the prize. He was worth it, no?”
She beamed at her son, gently running her finger over his cheek. “Yes,” she said. “I still can’t quite believe it.” She looked over at Kaden, her smile fading. “What happened to him?” she whispered. “His scars?”
Kaden lay curled on his side, his back to us. I had become used to his scars, but I was sure they had been shocking to the others.
“Betrayal,” I answered.
And I told her about who he had been and what he had endured.
* * *
When Kaden woke, he awkwardly stood, his hand skimming his bare chest, and he said hello to Berdi and Gwyneth.
Berdi frowned, her hands on her hips. “Well, you’ve got all kinds of surprises in you, don’t you, pelt trader?”
“I suppose I have a few,” he answered, a slight blush tinging his temples.
Gwyneth snorted. “Not the least of which is delivering babies.”
Kaden turned, looking at Pauline. “How is he?”
“Fine,” she answered quietly.
He walked over, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, and gently nudged the blanket aside so he could see the baby’s face. Pauline leaned back, lifting the baby protectively to her chest. Kaden noticed her retreat, and his smile disappeared. He stepped away, a small movement that stung with disappointment, and my heart ached for him. But I understood Pauline too. After all she had been through, trust was as slippery as hope.
“Anything else you plan to surprise us with?” Berdi asked.
He looked at me. “Lia, I need to speak with you privately.”
“Not so fast, soldier,” Gwyneth intervened. “Anything you have to say to her, you can tell us all.”