The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles 3) - Page 13

“That’s a long time. You raised up a fine soldier.”

“More than a soldier. A future king.”

Yes, the pride had been unmistakable. “And yet you let him traipse across the Cam Lanteux after me?”

Sven had snorted. “I didn’t let him. In fact, I tried to talk him out of it, but there was no stopping him. He had lost a treasure that he was determined to get back.”

In spite of the crisp air, rivers of warmth had spread through my chest. “Yet at considerable risk to all of you. I’m sorry about your face.”

“This little thing?” he said motioning to his cheek. “Pfft. Nothing. And as these young rogues have pointed out numerous times, it’s probably an improvement, not to mention it adds to my credentials. Wait until the new cadets see it. Maybe it will even spark some clemency in the king.”

“He’ll be angry that you didn’t stop Rafe?”

“It’s my job to keep the heir apparent out of danger. Instead I practically escorted him right to it.”

“Why would you do that?”

“As I told you, his decision was made.” He paused as if contemplating the why himself and sighed. “And it was time.”

Talking with Sven, one thing quickly became apparent—he was not at all like the arrogant blowhard Governor Obraun, whom he had pretended to be. Instead of constantly wagging his tongue, he chose his words carefully. Those days in the Sanctum, he’d been as good at deception as Rafe had been, but then, he had been Rafe’s mentor for many years. His long, silent pauses made me wonder what he was thinking.

Orrin, on the other hand, reminded me of Aster. Once he began talking, he was hard to stop.

Jeb was the most solicitous of the group. It was as if he had adopted me as one of his sisters. I learned why the others teased him about the extra trousers he had stashed away. They revealed that he was quite the dandy back at the palace, always dressed in the latest fashions. His mother was head seamstress of the queen’s court.

“When your trunks arrived in Dalbreck, it caused quite a stir,” he told me. “Everyone was feverish with curiosity about what was inside.”

I had almost forgotten that my clothing and other personal belongings had been sent ahead in anticipation of my arrival in Dalbreck. “What did they do with them? Use them for a bonfire? I wouldn’t blame them if they did.”

He laughed. “No, they wanted a good look before they did that,” he teased. “But opening the trunks did become a coveted secret event everyone wished to attend. It was left to the seamstresses, but my sisters and even the queen gathered round as my mother opened a trunk on the pretense of hanging up your gowns in case circumstances should change.”

I couldn’t hold back a snort. “What circumstance? That my running away had only been a mere misunderstanding? That I had accidentally shown up at the wrong abbey?”

Jeb grinned. “My mother said they were expecting something quite different from what they saw. She said your gowns were beautiful and elegant, but so…” He searched for the right word. “Simple.”

I stifled a laugh. By Morrighese standards, they were lavish. My mother had gone to great lengths to have a new fancier wardrobe made for me because the Dalbretch were known for their sartorial delights, but I had refused most of the embellishments and had insisted on taking along my everyday dresses too.

“My mother was actually pleased,” Jeb said. “She felt it showed respect, that you weren’t aiming to outshine all the other ladies in court. Of course, she immediately said she could make a few alterations that would greatly improve them, but the queen ordered them packed up and returned to Morrighan.”

And there they had promptly burned them, I thought. Along with an effigy of me too.

“Is something wrong?” Jeb asked.

I realized I was scowling. “Just thinking about—” I stopped my horse and turned to him. “Jeb, when you first came to my room back in the Sanctum, you said you were there to take me home. Which home did you mean?”

He looked at me, puzzled. “Why, Dalbreck, of course.”

Of course.

I spoke to Rafe about it later, reminding him that we had to get to Morrighan first.

“Our first priority is to get to safety,” he countered, “and that means Dalbreck’s outpost. Morrighan can come after that.”

* * *

Things remained distant between Tavish and me. He was polite, but when Rafe had to attend something else, he never offered to fall back to ride at my side. It had been clear he didn’t want to be alone with me.

Rafe continued to be restless and was always riding off to check on something. We’d only been on the trail a short time today when he said he was going to a lookout to see if he could spot game. He called for Sven to ride beside me, but this time Tavish offered to come. Even Rafe took note, raising a curious brow at me before he left.

Tags: Mary E. Pearson The Remnant Chronicles Fantasy
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