by Tanya Bird
‘Not to anyone else, but it should to you.’
She wet her lips. ‘His family produces ninety percent of Chadora’s grain. It’s a smart match.’
Nothing changed on his face. ‘This match your idea or Cooper’s?’
‘I can barely remember.’ She lifted her shoulders in a resigned shrug. ‘He showed up, we courted, and now we’re to be wed. I just thought you might want to know.’
He sucked on his teeth. ‘So he asked Cooper for your hand?’
‘Who else is he going to ask?’ she said, her voice even. ‘You?’
Fair point.
If Cooper had laid one finger on her, fifteen-year-old him would have found a way to take her with him. But for whatever reason, the old man had reserved his bad moods for his wife and stepson. Though Lari Brooke would never admit her second husband hurt her. She could be black and blue and still deny any wrongdoing on his behalf. That would mean admitting she had made a mistake in marrying the man mere weeks after burying her first husband.
‘Well, congratulations,’ Astin said. ‘When’s the wedding?’
‘In the summer.’ One corner of her mouth lifted. ‘Whatever that means anymore.’
‘It’s your best chance of finding a flower for your bouquet.’
The faintest smile appeared on Presley’s lips before she suppressed it.
Their childhood had been filled with jokes and knowing smiles, but it seemed those small moments had not added up to much. Now they were just sad reminders of a past life.
‘Well, I should let you get back to the king’s side.’ She took a step away, mumbling, ‘God knows he needs you there.’
Astin pretended not to hear that last bit. ‘Am I invited to this wedding?’
She started walking backwards away from him. ‘If you come visit us before summer, I’ll consider it.’ Turning, she headed off down the road.
Chapter 6
Lyndal stood on the back step of their home in the nobility borough, watching Blake angry-feed the chickens. Her sister was throwing scraps and water all about the place, her eyebrows knitted together in one determined line. She had not taken the news of Lyndal’s departure to Eldon Castle well.
‘Is it safe for me to approach?’ Lyndal called to her. ‘You’re really swinging those pails.’
Blake glanced in her direction. ‘Don’t muddy up your shoes on my account.’
Lyndal exhaled and stepped down onto the soggy lawn, holding her skirts up as she walked. ‘The wagon will be here any moment. Are you really not going to say goodbye to me?’
Blake picked up a few stray vegetable skins and threw them at the boar’s pen before turning to face her sister. ‘Fine.’
‘Fine?’ Lyndal laughed, walking straight up to Blake and pulling her sister to her. ‘It’s only a few months, not forever. The queen will probably tire of me in a few weeks and send me packing anyway.’
Blake relaxed against her. ‘Or she’ll see you as we see you and never let you leave.’
Lyndal pulled back to look at her. ‘I assure you my merchant roots will shine as bright as the sun we can’t remember.’
‘Good.’ Blake threaded her arm through Lyndal’s as they walked towards the house. ‘I’ll await reports of unruly merchant behaviour from Uncle Thomas, then.’
‘Though not too unruly or I shall never hear the end of it.’
Blake drew her closer. ‘Just make sure you return to me the same person. I couldn’t bear it if you came back a proper lady.’
‘To even suggest such a thing…’
Their mother appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her pressed apron. ‘The wagon is out front. Of course, you will have to squeeze in around all of Kendra’s belongings. Anyone would think she is moving to the castle permanently.’
‘I thought that was the plan,’ Blake said, smiling mischievously.
‘Has Eda returned?’ Lyndal asked, looking past her mother into the kitchen.
Candace pressed her lips together, and Blake looked at her feet.
‘Why’s everyone acting like I’m never coming back?’
Blake sighed and looked up. ‘It’s a big change. Eda will come around.’
Lyndal stepped past her mother, shaking her head. ‘Well, when she does, she’ll have to put her apology in a letter. I can’t stand around waiting for her to descend whatever tree she’s hiding in.’
Out front, Kendra was waiting in the wagon, one foot tapping. ‘Do come along,’ she called. ‘The queen mother awaits us.’
Blake took Lyndal’s hand and squeezed. ‘Better not keep the queen waiting.’
Lyndal kissed her cheek. ‘Maybe you can come visit.’
‘I’m sure Harlan would love that.’ Blake’s tone was pure sarcasm.
Candace stepped forwards to kiss her daughter. ‘Take care of each other. Court can be tricky to navigate, but it will open doors if you can find a way to fit in. Then you will have no trouble finding a suitable husband.’
‘Suitable’ was the key word in that sentence.
‘Be sure to tell Eda I left in tears so she feels guilty,’ Lyndal said, ignoring the disapproving tuts of her mother. She almost stepped on the duck as she turned away. ‘Garlic,’ she said, crouching. ‘Don’t fret, my love. I shall be back before you know it. Make sure you watch over Pig for me.’
Traditionally all the animals were named after herbs and spices, but referring to the boar as a pig annoyed both Harlan and Astin, so the sisters had all agreed to bend the rules for the sake of maximising the joke.
Blake picked up the duck so it would not chase the wagon down the road.
‘Off you go,’ Candace said, eyes shiny.
Lyndal pressed a hand to her churning stomach as she walked away. The driver was waiting to take her hand as she stepped up into the wagon. It was surreal given a year earlier she had been eating insects while imagining her death. Now she was on her way to Eldon Castle.
‘Is that what you are wearing?’ Kendra asked as Lyndal settled herself on the seat opposite.
Lyndal looked at her. ‘No. This one is a ruse. Just when Queen Fayre expresses her disappointment in my choice of dress, I shall whip it off, revealing a much nicer one beneath it.’
Her cousin squinted her disapproval. ‘Very funny. This is my future, you know.’
Lyndal leaned over and squeezed her cousin’s hand. ‘No one’s going to be looking at me.’
‘But they will judge the company I keep. If I fail to win over the king, my father will remind me of the fact long after I have married someone who is not of royal blood.’ She looked out as the wagon pulled away, head shaking. ‘Sorry. That was unkind. Perhaps I am more nervous than I realised.’
Lyndal knew the kind of pressure Kendra was under. ‘You’re not a failure if you’re not queen by the end of the spring. You do know that, right?’
‘In my father’s eyes I will be. He is still recovering from the disappointment of me being born a girl.’ Kendra smoothed down the skirt of her gown, which fell perfectly around her legs. ‘I once witnessed your father sing your praises about the way you hung laundry. I was eight at the time, and rather jealous.’
‘And yet you never thought to try it for yourself.’
Kendra bit back a smile. ‘I can safely say my father would have had a very different reaction to me hanging laundry.’ Her expression turned serious. ‘Listen to me complaining. At least my father is still alive. And you would look stunning wearing a wheat bag, by the way. Pay me no mind.’
Lyndal’s eyes shone with mischief. ‘Perhaps I’ll test that theory.’
‘Ah, no. Peasant clothing I will allow. Wheat bag I will not.’
Lyndal’s mouth fell open. ‘Peasant clothing? My dear cousin, if you think this is what people are wearing in the merchant borough, then it’s been too long between visits.’ She looked down at her cotton dress with its pleated bodice and lace along the sleeve.
‘You really do straddle two worlds,’ Kendra said on a sigh.
; ‘The Suttone women have invented a new class—peasant gentry.’
Kendra smiled as she turned to watch the passing scenery. The wagon swayed gently, the horse moving at a slow trot.
As they neared the gate, Lyndal pressed a hand to her stomach. The separation from her family was going to be the most challenging part. She had never been away from them overnight, let alone divided by a wall for weeks on end.
A horse cantered up beside the wagon, causing both girls to jump in their seats. It was Eda.
‘Please stop the wagon,’ Lyndal said to the driver.
The driver pulled up, and Lyndal’s feet landed on the ground at the same time Eda’s did. The girls wrapped their arms around each other, holding tightly for a few moments.
Eda was first to let go. They better treat you well or I’m scaling that wall and coming for them.
‘What did she say?’ Kendra called from the wagon.
Lyndal glanced over her shoulder. ‘She’s just wishing us a pleasant stay.’
‘Right,’ Kendra said, sounding sceptical.
The sisters exchanged a small smile.
‘I’ll see you at the Solar Festival,’ Lyndal said, smoothing down her sister’s hair. ‘If not before.’
Across a rope? Eda signed.
‘If you think a rope is going to keep me from you, then you don’t know me very well.’ She kissed her sister’s cheek. ‘Stay out of trouble.’
She turned away before the sting of tears became anything more and climbed back into the wagon. They rolled away, and she held her hand up in a long wave as they passed beneath the archway into the merchant borough. Her younger sister would be absolutely fine, but that did nothing to ease the pain of separation.
The gate closed behind them.
‘At least you have people who will miss you,’ Kendra said as they headed towards the merchant village.
Kendra had wanted a sibling her whole life. While her mother had had no problem falling pregnant, staying pregnant was another matter.
‘Your mother will miss you very much,’ Lyndal said.
‘And my father will miss me because I kept her occupied and out of his hair,’ Kendra replied with a playful smile.
They fell silent again, watching the road. Occasionally they passed merchants who would look in their direction. Lyndal felt like a fraud sitting up in that wagon, as though she were pretending to be something more. A year earlier she had walked everywhere, nearly falling down from starvation, just like they were.
They passed between the village and the forest, slowing when they reached the square.
‘Oh my,’ Kendra said, hand going to her mouth.
Lyndal followed her gaze to where a decomposing body hung on the wall. She longed for a similar reaction instead of the numb acknowledgement that resulted from years of desensitisation. She did notice the smell though. It was amazing how quickly one became accustomed to the fresh air in the nobility borough.
The two defenders at the gate approached the wagon as it rolled to a stop. The driver handed over a letter from the queen mother, an official invitation to Eldon Castle. The guards looked the young women over, then gestured for the portcullis to be raised.
‘Here we go,’ Kendra said, her words almost drowned out by the loud clank of the gate.
Lyndal pressed her damp palms to her thighs as the wagon lurched forwards. She had glimpsed Eldon Castle through the gate her entire life. Never did she imagine having reason to enter the royal borough—other than being locked in the tower. It was by no means a stretch for a member of her family.
They passed the barracks, where defenders trained with swords and poles. Others ran laps around them. Lyndal looked for Harlan. Her brother-in-law was in charge of the new recruits, and she thought seeing him might make her feel a bit braver. But he was nowhere in sight.
The stables were next, rows and rows of stalls bursting with horses of all sizes and colours. Grooms walked back and forth, carrying saddlery and pails of soaked barley. Next to the stables was a fenced yard. A handful of men stood with their boots resting on the bottom rail, watching a young rider try to saddle an unwilling horse.
‘There it is,’ Kendra said, drawing Lyndal’s attention. ‘Eldon Castle.’
Lyndal looked ahead to the pale sandstone construction looming over yet another wall. It was rumoured to be influenced by French designs, which she knew nothing about. To the far left loomed the tower, with its sharp roof and tiny windows barely big enough to frame a starved face. She immediately thought of Eda locked in there after being caught stealing a chicken. How on earth she had coped in such a place at only fifteen years of age Lyndal had no idea.
As they passed through the wide hinged gate, Kendra leaned forwards and asked, ‘Is that King Borin’s bodyguard?’
Lyndal’s gaze went to the man waiting at the front entrance of the castle, and sure enough, it was Astin Fletcher in his black uniform and leather armour.
‘Yes, it is.’ Normally the sight of him had her groaning aloud, but his tall, familiar frame was oddly comforting.
When the wagon came to a stop, Astin moved forwards and extended a hand to Kendra before the driver even had a chance to exit the wagon.
‘Defender,’ Kendra said, stepping down.
‘Lady Kendra.’
Not one to sit around and wait for help, Lyndal stepped down just as Astin turned back to her. He was far too close, but it fell on him to move away, because in order for Lyndal to retreat, she would need to climb back into the wagon.
‘You all right?’ he asked, searching her face.
She tried to mask her surprise. ‘Genuine concern in place of an insult? What sorcery is this?’
His lips curled slightly. ‘Harlan sent me.’
Of course he had. ‘Oh.’ She looked past him to where a servant was collecting their belongings. ‘That was kind of him.’
Finally he stepped back, and she was able to breathe.
‘I’m on duty shortly, but if you need anything, you can send word to me via one of the servants.’
‘Send word to you? Why not Harlan?’
His eyes searched hers. ‘You’ll struggle to find servants prepared to travel outside the castle walls to deliver messages to the barracks.’
She felt her cheeks heat. ‘Of course.’ When he turned to leave, she said, ‘I appreciate you popping by to welcome us.’
Those grey eyes bored into her a final time, and then he was striding away from them.
‘Ready?’ Kendra asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
Lyndal tore her gaze from Astin. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’
Chapter 7
Kendra sat in one of the expensive chairs in the solar that connected the two bedchambers, occasionally touching a finger to the corner of her painted mouth. Lyndal, not used to being idle, paced the length of the room. Waiting around to be summoned by Queen Fayre was a special kind of torture for her. There was nothing to keep her busy in the meantime. Nothing to clean, no food to prepare or water to fetch.
No boars to wrestle.
‘Oh do sit down,’ Kendra said in a pained tone. ‘You are wearing a track in the rug.’
Lyndal stepped off the rug onto the hardwood floor and resumed pacing. A knock at the door made her stop and turn.
Kendra rose elegantly from her chair and went to open it. A young servant boy stood in the corridor.
‘Her Majesty Queen Fayre has requested your company in the garden terrace, my lady,’ he said.
Kendra nodded and looked back at Lyndal. ‘I believe we are ready to join her.’
The women followed the servant along the west corridor, down some stairs, and through a narrow door that opened to a large terrace. Lyndal paused when she stepped out, looking around at the trellis walkways and arbours, likely once used for shade. The garden beds were raised to prevent waterlogging. They were exploding with mature herbs and colourful plants. Exotic birds hung in cages along the castle wall—as trapped as she was. Immaculately trimmed
hedges and wattle fences marked the perimeter.
‘Do come along,’ Kendra whispered over her shoulder.
Lyndal hurried forwards, spotting the queen alone by the fishpond in the middle of the terrace. A few yards past her, seven women were seated playing chess and talking among themselves.
‘Your Majesty,’ Kendra said as they neared the pond. She fell into a low curtsy, Queen Fayre’s inquisitive eyes following every movement. ‘What a lovely space this is. Was this your vision?’
Kendra was right at home in this setting, knowing exactly what to say. And Lyndal was happy to let her do the talking.
‘Actually, my vision had a lot more citrus trees and flowers in it,’ the queen mother replied. ‘However, we must all make do without those things for now.’ Her eyes went to Lyndal. ‘I am so pleased you decided to join your cousin. What do you think of my home?’
Lyndal looked around the terrace. ‘It’s enormous. I’m certain I’ll get lost—frequently.’
Fayre smiled.
‘And you’ve still managed to create a colourful space without citrus trees and flowers,’ Lyndal added, looking over her shoulder at the cages.
‘Are you fond of birds?’ the queen mother asked.
‘I’m fond of them flying in the sky. Not one for cages, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, I think they are a lovely feature,’ Kendra said.
Queen Fayre watched the birds for a moment. ‘I find their silence unsettling. However, the king is fond of them, so they remain. Imported all the way from Africa, I believe.’
That made Lyndal feel even more sorry for them. ‘What must birds born of heat and sun think of our frigid temperatures and constant rain?’
The queen mother’s eyes returned to her. ‘I am certain they think us mad for living here and cruel for forcing them to suffer alongside us.’
The sadness in her tone made Lyndal swallow.
‘Come,’ Fayre said, suddenly upbeat. ‘I shall introduce you to the other ladies, and we can hopefully squeeze in a few games of chess before the rain starts up again. Do you both play?’
‘I love the game,’ Kendra replied quickly.