The woman glanced at the cloak, then back at Graeme. “Is it true she’s sick?” Her voice was accusing.
He gave a swift nod. “I would like to return to her as soon as I can.”
The woman hesitated one more time, then gestured down the road. “Another league down road, around the bend, and you’ll find an old, fallow farm. There won’t be any lights in the window. That’s her home.”
Graeme thanked her with the cloak and remounted, and they set off back down the road.
Seri’s house was just as the woman had described it. No faint light came from the windows, and the chimney had no welcoming curl of smoke that spoke of inhabitants. The fields were overgrown, and geese were scattered all over the yard, honking angrily and scattering as they rode up.
He dismounted quickly, one of the soldiers on his footsteps. A knock at the door produced no response, but Graeme was not about to give up. Ignoring his men’s protests, he tried the handle of the door and it opened.
The inside of the small home was just as dark. No fire in the fire pit, no candles to light the darkness. Graeme stepped inside, his hand going to his sword-belt. “Hello?”
“Rilen?” The voice was small, broken. “Is that you?” A figure stood at the back of the room, but made no effort to move forward.
It was a pitifully small house, Graeme noticed. One chair, a fireplace, and a battered table were the only furniture in the front room. There was a tattered curtain hung, and beyond that he could see the foot of a small bed. A ladder cut across one side of the room, leading to a loft. The huddled figure of a small woman sat behind the ladder.
“I am not Rilen,” Graeme said. “But I come on Seri’s behalf. She is ill and asks for her family.”
The figure stood at that and stepped forward, moonlight from the nearby window bathing her face. The young woman was sick as well, her face hollow, her hair matted and dirty. Her features were wider than Seri’s, but it was obvious they were siblings. Her dress was a filthy rag, and her feet were bare. The way she shuffled toward him, it was obvious she was blind.
Hope shone in her eyes, and she stepped toward Graeme, her hands outstretched. “Did you… I… do you have anything to eat? To drink?” She ducked her head in a shy manner. “I apologize for asking, but since Seri has left, we have eaten nothing since the supplies ran out. That was days ago.”
Graeme took her searching hand in his and felt the thin, fragile bones. She did not lie. Anger flared in him, and shame, that he had given no thought to Seri’s family as they sat here in the darkness and starved, unable to fend for themselves.
And all the while, Seri had begged for her family to come to the keep and he had been too self-absorbed to pay attention.
No longer.
“You are Josdi?” He pulled her to his side, noting how her whole body trembled. She looked ready to collapse.
“I am,” she said. “My father sleeps in the bed in the back. He has the wasting sickness and cannot get out of bed.”
That would pose a bit of a problem. He turned to one of the soldiers and handed him the few coins he carried with him. “Take this and pay whatever is necessary. Get the nearest wagon you can find, and buy it from the owners. And whatever you do, don’t threaten them. Just give them whatever they ask.”
The soldier nodded and dashed off, money in hand.
“Are we going somewhere?” Josdi asked, her sightless eyes scanning the room.
Graeme smiled faintly. “To the castle. I’ll have my cooks prepare you a feast.”
“That would be lovely,” Josdi said, her young face shining, her trembling hand clasping his. “And Seri? May I see my sister?”
“Undoubtedly.” Graeme put her hand on his arm in a courtly manner. “Perhaps your presence will be what she needs to return to us.”
Had she asked for the rebel leader, he would have brought him at this point. Anything to get her well and assuage this terrible sense of loss and the guilt for bringing her into his world even when she did not want to go.
~~* * * ~~
The first thing Seri felt when she awakened was raw. Her entire body felt exhausted, frail, and it confused her. Her throat hurt, and her head ached, and there was a faint light at the edge of her vision that made her wince. She opened her eyes slowly, squinting.
Leaning over her like a beautiful god come to life, Graeme brushed a stray strand of hair away from her cheek, his aura pulsing brightly. “You are awake.” The look in his eyes was soft, and his beautiful mouth was pulled into a faint smile that nearly broke her heart with the beauty of it.
She jerked away from his touch, confused at the feelings that stirred in her at the soft brush. “Don’t.” She was too tired to sort through the uncomfortable, confusing feelings he brought forth. “Please don’t.”
Just like that, she felt him withdraw from her. His hand pulled away and the reserved mien of the prince returned. “My apologies,” he said softly. “I did not wish to disturb you.” He got up from the bed, his aura flickering darker, and someone else took his place.
The figure that leaned over the bed was achingly familiar, with bright blue eyes and a too-thin face, but oh, it was wonderful to see Josdi again. Seri felt her eyes well as her sister took her hand. “Josdi? You are here at last?”
“I am,” she said happily, her hands sliding up Seri’s shoulders to touch her face and cry with relief. “We were all so worried about you.”
Seri smiled at her sister and allowed her to fluff the pillows behind her head, all the while watching over her shoulder as the aura-covered tall figure of her husband left the room, whispering something to the healers nearby.
“We were so worried,” Josdi gushed, clasping her sister’s hand again and settling down next to her as Seri sat up in bed and sipped the hot drink the healer pressed on her. “We didn’t know if something terrible had happened in the castle, or if you had abandoned us.” Her small hand shook in Seri’s tired one.
She frowned at her sister’s words, noting the tired lines in Josdi’s face and the thinness of it again. “You received no word? Nothing? What about Rilen? Did he not come to take care of you?”
A faint frown crossed Josdi’s face. “Rilen? I have not seen him in months. Was he supposed to come by and visit us?”
Hard, hot betrayal rushed through Seri. Rilen had never gone to see her family while she was trapped here in the castle? Josdi couldn’t light a fire, and poor Father was confined to the bed. How had they managed to take care of themselves while she was gone? She patted her sister’s hand, forcing her voice to be even. “It’s all right, Josdi. Don’t worry about it.”
It seemed Josdi had already put it out of her mind. Her young face shone with excitement. “Oh, Seri, this is such a magical place, this palace.”
That innocent statement brought a wry smile to Seri’s face. “Do you think so?”
“Oh yes,” Josdi breathed. “And your new husband is so very kind. It was him that rescued us, you know.”
Seri sat up higher in the bed, surprised. “What?”
“He came to the farm, asking for us. He bought a wagon from Alaren’s farm nearby so we could bring Father with us—do you know that Alaren asked for six
dru
for that beat-up old wagon and the prince paid it without a second thought? Imagine!” Her sightless eyes brimmed with mirth. “I imagined poor Alaren falling over at the thought of all that money.”
Seri shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Prince Graeme explained a little to me as we rode back to the castle,” Josdi said, her cheeks pinking with shyness. “His manners are so beautiful, Seri. I felt like a poor country fool when he helped me onto his horse, but he told me I should be proud as I am the sister of a princesse, and to not worry about what others think.” She leaned in as if sharing a secret. “He told me that he has sent his vizier away because he did not obey his orders.”
She felt faint. “He said that?”
“I think he loves you very much, Seri. He stayed by your bedside all while you were sick, and I could tell that he was worried about you.”
“Don’t be silly, Josdi,” Seri said, her voice tight around the knot in her throat. “Prince Graeme is solicitous, no more.”
“You’re wrong,” Josdi said, and for a moment she seemed wiser than her seventeen years. “I may be blind, but there are some things even I do not need to see.”
~~* * * ~~
After three more days of rest, Seri was allowed to get out of bed. Josdi was a constant visitor during that time, as well as the healers, who assured her that her father was being well taken care of in a nearby room. Idalla and Vya were in constant attendance, to the point that Seri began to suspect that they had been instructed not to leave her alone at any time.
Graeme did not come to visit her.
At least, not during the waking hours. She suspected that while she slept, he came in to watch her. Her dreams were disturbing and erotic, and sometimes when she awoke her aura pulsed around her like he had been in the room recently.
It was just as well that he hadn’t visited her. Seri couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him. The last time they had a conversation, she’d slapped him in anger after releasing the prisoners. She expected him to hate her, so his kindness with Josdi and her father was baffling.
And yet, as soon as they allowed her from her bed, Seri couldn’t stop herself. She went to go find him. Dressed in the thick, heavy ornate clothing of the Athoni women, her body covered head to foot in a pale blue silk brocade that made her coloring seem darker than it was, her hair knotted up in an ornate braid, she paced the endless halls. There was a festival—another one of the endless ones for their wedding feast—going on in the main ballroom, but Graeme was not there. Nor was he closeted with the priests who chanted all night long and nearly fell into fits of ecstasy at the sight of her, the gods-promised betrothed.
It was when she was about to give up on finding him that she entered a small, book-filled solar and found him there, head in his hands as he studied a massive book open in front of him. Behind him, the window was open and moonlight and a cool breeze poured through the room, making the lanterns on the walls sway. Deep shadows covered his face, and he turned to her as she entered the room, his aura flickering and then flaring with light.
High One Above, but he looked exhausted. A twinge of guilt shot through her at the sight of his hollow eyes when she was feeling better herself. It was like the more strength she regained, the more he fell.
“You are feeling better?” Graeme stood, coming around the side of his desk to offer her his arm.
She ignored it, frustrated with the way he treated her as if she were the most fragile thing in the world. “I’m fine,” she said lightly, stepping into the room and staring at the books. “There’s a celebration going on in the ballroom.” She immediately felt stupid for pointing it out. “Why are you hiding in here?”
He gestured at the books. “Merely doing a bit of reading on the geography of the region. Nothing important.”
Seri looked over at the book open on his desk, recognizing one of the symbols as that of her people’s religion. “Studying the Vidari, I see.”
“A subject of which I lack sufficient knowledge, I confess.” He gave her a polite look and then gestured at the chair across from the desk. “Please, sit.”
They were going to retreat into these uncomfortable formalities again, were they? She sighed and sat as he asked, jerking the long, annoying skirts closer to her. The high collar itched against her throat, but she made no move to touch it, knowing his gaze would be drawn there. Just the thought of that made her flush and her aura grew hot around her. “If you wanted to know more about the Vidari, you should have asked me.”
“I did not wish to disturb you while you were unwell,” he said politely, and she sighed to herself. They would be forever condemned to be polite strangers, she and this prince.
“Is that why I have food tasters?” Ever since she had awoken from her fever, someone had been there to take a bite of her food before she could, and the practice disturbed her.
“You have food tasters because you were poisoned.”
“Oh.” Seri paused at that, shocked. Then, “On purpose?”
He gave her a level look.
She flushed. That was a foolish question. Of course it had been on purpose. “Do you know who did it?”
He turned back to the desk and sat down in the chair again, all elegant, controlled gestures. “The guilty party has been removed from court.”
“I see,” she said, mulling his words over. “Removed but not condemned. Or is that a fate reserved only for the uneducated Vidari?”
He gave her a cold look. “I seem to recall one particular Vidari woman who attempted to murder someone and was not condemned.”
Shame flushed her cheeks. “You should have killed me, then.”
“And yet, I did not. Just like I will not do to this woman. It has been handled. Do not concern yourself with it any longer.”
Right. Let it go. Seri twisted her hands in her lap, annoyed at the itching cuffs and heavy layers. The cool breeze coming in from the window was nice, but she still felt strange and reckless. Too full of energy. It was being in the proximity of Graeme, she suspected. His aura had grown and flared like her own, though they both tried to ignore it. Ignoring it was the polite thing to do, after all, and Graeme was nothing if not unfailingly polite.
When she said nothing else, he turned back to his book and turned a page, and she could see the deep shadows under his eyes. He looked thin, too. Paler than usual. “You seem… unwell.” There was a carafe of the deep red liquid at the edge of the desk but it remained untouched. “Are you… are you eating? Drinking?”
His gaze flew to hers, and his eyes darkened as they flicked to her throat, then back to her face. He seemed to stiffen in his chair. “I would not attack you in your sickbed, lady wife. You insult me by implying such.”
Well, she hadn’t meant to imply that at all. “What about Lady Aynee?” she said, unable to keep the nasty note out of her voice. “I’m sure she’d be happy to service you in all that you need.”
Graeme’s face remained carefully neutral. “She has been removed from court.”