by Tanya Bird
Astin pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Appreciate that.’ He was unable to look Harlan in the eyes. ‘Let’s go.’ He gestured for Lyndal to walk ahead.
She pulled her cloak tighter around her and headed in the direction of the small door. There was no hand holding on the walk, only awkward silence as they stood waiting for it to open. Lyndal was first through, her chest heavy as she emerged into the royal borough on the other side. She looked up at the clouds now closing in. The sun was gone. The moment was gone.
Harlan said a few words she did not register before heading for the barracks.
‘I’m sorry,’ Astin said, appearing next to her.
He was sorry. Perhaps she was supposed to be sorry also.
‘Let’s get you inside,’ he said, walking ahead. ‘We need to beat the warden back to your rooms.’
She followed him. ‘Why did you apologise? I wanted it. I’m not sorry.’
‘Doesn’t matter. We’re this side of the wall now. Nothing that happened out there changes anything in here. Am I wrong?’
She was still lost in all that had happened on the other side of that wall. ‘Astin…’
‘I’m not here to make more messes for you to clean up.’
She grabbed hold of his arm, forcing him to stop and look at her. ‘You’re not another mess. I just… I just need a moment to think, and you’re already shutting me out.’
He searched her eyes. ‘You don’t get both. You know that, right?’
‘I know.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I know that. Surely you understand that I’m in a position to help, so I feel morally obligated to do so.’
Astin scraped his teeth over his lip, nodding. ‘I understand.’ He was quiet a moment. ‘And hopefully you understand that if I remain your guard, I’m morally obligated to stand outside the king’s bedchamber every night while you fulfil other obligations.’
Tears gathered in her eyes, but she blinked them back. ‘Please don’t hate me. I can handle anything except for that.’
His expression softened. ‘I don’t hate you.’
‘Fletcher!’ The warden’s voice boomed across the open space.
Astin turned. ‘Yes, sir?’
Shapur looked between them. ‘Take Lady Lyndal to the terrace—now.’
Saluting, Astin watched him stride off before turning back to Lyndal. ‘Keep your cloak closed. Don’t let Queen Fayre see your nightdress.’
Chapter 26
Queen Fayre moved her castle along the chessboard, then looked up at Astin. ‘I believe the warden would like to speak with you in private, Fletcher. Lady Lyndal is quite safe here with me until Thornton arrives.’
She knows. Heat crawled up Lyndal’s neck at the realisation.
Astin bowed his head. ‘Your Majesty.’ His eyes met Lyndal’s as he turned away.
She fought the urge to stand and follow him out, instead trying to focus on the board. She could feel the queen mother’s eyes on her.
‘Loyal, skilled, and handsome,’ Fayre said once Astin had exited the terrace. ‘Fletcher is quite the catch.’
Lyndal wiped her hands on her cloak and forced her eyes up. ‘He’s an excellent guard.’ She reached for her bishop.
‘Spectacular sunrise this morning.’ Fayre shifted one of her pawns. ‘I cannot remember the last time I saw colour like that in the sky. I imagine it was even better outside the wall.’
Lyndal held the tip of her bishop, trying to remember which way she was going to move it. Giving up, she let go. ‘I imagine it was spectacular from any viewing point. So much hope in just a few fleeting moments.’
Fayre was watching her, not the board. ‘It would certainly make a big difference if the sun was to return. Successful crops. Reduction in murrain and healthier livestock.’
‘And flowers.’ Lyndal moved her knight. ‘Which means the return of fruit.’
Fayre glanced at the board and slid her pawn forwards. ‘Check.’
Surprised, Lyndal studied the board, aware that her heart was beating so hard it was visible through her cloak. She moved her king out of danger.
‘If only that were the answer to all our problems,’ Fayre said, taking her next move. ‘But it is not that simple. Now is not the time for careless mistakes. You are playing the long game here. Get the crown, produce an heir, save the merchants from a lifetime of misery.’ She leaned back and looked at Lyndal. ‘Then you will be free to indulge. Take a lover, if that is your wish. So long as you are discreet.’
Lyndal tried to slow her breathing.
‘Please do not risk your safety and the future of this kingdom by messing with the order of things.’
What was she supposed to say in response to that?
‘And we cannot have a repeat of last night. The king is in a mood this morning. You embarrassed him—and yourself.’ She reached for her queen, dragging it to the other end of the board. ‘Checkmate.’
Lyndal looked down. Surely it was not that easy for her to win.
‘Eat something,’ Fayre said, gesturing to the plate of hard-boiled eggs. ‘You need to keep up your strength.’
Lyndal wet her lips, where Astin’s mouth had been less than thirty minutes earlier. ‘So I can produce all those heirs?’
The queen mother smiled. ‘You are at the very beginning of this fight. There is a long, tiresome road in front of you. Embracing it makes the journey much easier. Trust me. I am twenty years in, still fighting, and I am exhausted.’
Lyndal’s brow pinched. ‘I’m still trying to figure out what you’re fighting for. Sometimes I think it’s the people and other times I think it’s your son’s success.’
Fayre nodded. ‘The people’s survival depends on my son’s success. If he fails, everybody suffers.’
Lyndal pressed her lips together in an attempt to hold in the words she had promised not to speak. But she trusted the queen enough to know she would not go after the source. ‘Forty head of cattle left the farming borough yesterday. One was a gift to me. It made it to the merchant borough because I took it there myself. I’m curious where the rest went if not to the nobility?’
Queen Fayre’s eyebrows came together. ‘I am not privy to that information. However, that does explain your mood last night. You are upset they did not go to the merchants.’
‘We should all be upset about that.’
Fayre reached for the food, placing a few slices of cheese and a boiled egg on a plate and sliding it towards Lyndal. ‘You will not get anywhere behaving as you did last night. If you want information, then you will need to gain the king’s trust.’
‘And how do I do that?’
Fayre leaned back. ‘Perhaps you can watch the next sunrise with him.’
Lyndal swallowed. She refused to regret the time spent with Astin or anything that had happened between them. ‘The king trusts you. Can you not simply ask him?’
‘For that reason I must tread more carefully than anyone. If I start poking around in business he means to keep from me, then all progress we have made will be lost. He is not in love with you. In fact, he is still learning to like you. So I suggest you choose your battles very wisely for now.’
It was not new information, but it was brutal to hear aloud.
‘I want you to return to your bedchamber,’ Fayre said, leaning back. ‘Put on the dress that is laid out on your bed. My maid will help you get ready.’
‘Get ready for what?’
The queen mother clasped her hands in front of her. ‘You shall see in due course.’
Astin stood with the warden outside the mess hall, trying very hard not to drop his gaze.
Shapur had his arms crossed, staring him down. ‘What is it about the Suttone sisters that have sensible men behaving so foolishly? You cannot take the king’s betrothed for a rendezvous outside the wall.’
‘With respect, sir, they’re not betrothed yet, and she was quite safe.’
‘Safe from what exactly?’ Shapur fired back. ‘Do you think me a fool? She is to marry the king.
’
‘There’s been no formal announce—’
‘Shut your mouth, defender. You know as well as I do that is irrelevant. She is off limits.’ He shook his head. ‘What am I to do here? Tell me.’
Astin did not have an answer because he was utterly confused.
‘I want you to take the rest of the morning to get your head together. Think long and hard about whether you can put your precious feelings aside, like you have been trained, and do your goddamn job.’
Astin saluted. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now get out of here.’
Astin went straight to the stables and requested a horse, then travelled to the only place he could think of to clear his head: the farming borough. He had thought he was riding aimlessly until he found himself out front of the family farm. He did not enter but remained on the road watching the sheep in the front paddock. It was not until he heard a horse approaching that he broke from his trance.
‘Thought that was you,’ Presley said, approaching on her mare. ‘What on earth are you doing out here?’
Looking up at the sky, he saw it was nearing noon. ‘I’m supposed to be clearing my head.’
‘And how’s that going?’
‘Not well.’
‘Then it’s a good thing I spotted you and not Cooper.’ She pulled her horse up a few feet away and exhaled. ‘Did you see the sunrise this morning?’
He nodded. ‘Seems the banning of Christianity and forced worshiping of a sun god no one really believes in is finally paying off.’
Presley laughed. ‘Seems that way.’ She looked around. ‘The farm was stunning washed in colour this morning. I wish you could have seen it.’
He adjusted his grip on the reins. ‘I can imagine.’
Presley exhaled and watched him a moment. ‘I always thought you would come back eventually. I don’t know why. Logically, I know any man who becomes a defender remains a defender, but you once loved this life.’
‘I did. Before Cooper.’
She nodded. ‘Before Cooper.’ Her eyes drifted to the house. ‘Doesn’t seem fair.’
‘What doesn’t?’
‘He gets to live your life. As the youngest of four brothers, with no inheritance, he should have ended up a farmhand somewhere, barely a penny to his name.’
Astin looked away. He did not like to think about what might have been. Yes, he could have returned to the farm when he was of age. He could have even kicked his stepfather off the land. But the man would have taken the rest of the family with him, and his sisters and mother would have paid the price for Astin’s so-called heroic moment.
‘Hayley Akerse lives a stone’s throw from the nobility gate,’ Presley said, changing the subject. ‘She said no cattle have left the borough via that gate in some time, excluding a carcass here and there.’
‘Seems they didn’t go to the nobility borough either, which only leaves one other possibility.’
They both turned to look at the outer-wall.
‘People are going to lose their minds if they find out he’s selling meat elsewhere,’ Presley said.
Astin struggled to imagine any king doing something so reckless, so damaging. But Borin was a special breed of king.
‘Tread carefully,’ he told his sister. ‘I don’t want you caught up in all of this.’
‘A bit difficult given the cattle came from our farm. They’re marked with our brand.’ Presley glanced at the grazing sheep. ‘If it comes to light they’ve been sold outside the wall, it won’t be King Borin who takes the fall.’
She was right, of course. Borin would claim ignorance and happily feed a crooked man like Cooper to the dogs. The rest of the family would be eaten up alongside him. Astin was going to need to make sure his mother and sisters were protected.
‘Where are you off to?’
Presley clicked her tongue. ‘To the square for the announcement.’
‘What announcement?’
She pulled her horse up, eyebrows coming together. ‘Aren’t you supposed to know before me? The king will be on the wall at noon. Everyone is expecting news of his betrothal.’
No. It was too early.
Then a realisation hit him like cold water. If the queen mother sensed a threat to her plan, she would act swiftly.
He swung his horse around. ‘I have to go.’
‘I might be wrong,’ Presley called to his back.
Digging his heels in, he did not wait around to find out.
Chapter 27
The steps inside the turret were narrow and difficult to navigate. Lyndal clutched the skirt of her yellow gown, eyes moving from her feet to the light spilling in through the open door above. The dress was the most expensive thing she had ever worn, a fact that made her hands tremble and her feet miss their mark.
Roul caught her arm when her foot slipped from the step for the third time, saying nothing. He did not bother to ask if she was all right, because he already knew the answer. Lyndal had asked him to send word to Astin when she had left the queen, but no one had been able to locate him.
‘Still no news of Fletcher?’ she asked over her shoulder.
‘Not since you asked two minutes ago.’
A few more steps and she was at the top, emerging into blinding daylight and flinching at the sound of a crowd below. She blinked a few times, spotting King Borin and Queen Fayre on the wall walk ahead.
‘Come along,’ the king said, running a hand down his tunic. ‘The merchants have already gathered in the square.’
When Lyndal’s feet stopped, Queen Fayre walked over and took her arm, encouraging her forwards. ‘I will be right beside you.’
‘What are we doing up here?’
Fayre led her to the embrasure, and the moment the merchants caught sight of her, cheers erupted.
‘Some things are better experienced than explained,’ Fayre said, patting her hand before letting go. She gave the crowd a wave. ‘Smile, dear.’
Lyndal took hold of the embrasure to steady herself. ‘What is this?’
The king stepped up beside her, eyes moving over her face. ‘Goodness. You are not going to be sick, are you?’
Probably. ‘Can someone please tell me what we’re doing up here?’
Borin peered around her to his mother. ‘I thought you told her.’
‘Told me what?’ Lyndal asked.
‘Mother came to me this morning and suggested we make it official,’ Borin said, looking out at the cheering crowd. He took Lyndal’s hand and placed it on his arm. The crowd responded with deafening applause.
Lyndal stared at her hand resting on the king’s twiggy arm and felt sick.
‘It begins with this moment,’ Fayre whispered into her ear. ‘Look at them. They are counting on you.’
Lyndal could barely draw breath. Her eyes went over her shoulder, searching for Astin. He was not there. Roul stood in his place, watching her with a concerned expression. She looked back at the crowd, eyes moving from face to face, searching for something or someone familiar to anchor herself, but her vision kept failing her.
The king gestured for quiet. ‘I have chosen a queen. Not only for myself but for all of you. I hear your approval loud and clear.’
Lyndal watched his mouth move, trying hard to register the words coming from it. She kept hold of his arm because she did not trust her legs.
The next few minutes passed in flashes of sight and noise. Her future had been decided without her consent—and it was too late to stop it. She looked to Fayre for confirmation of that, her head shaking in place of words.
The queen mother took hold of her spare hand, squeezing tightly. ‘You can do this,’ she mouthed.
She could do this. But did she want to do this?
Turning back to the crowd, she took in the hope-filled faces of the merchants. They wanted this. They needed it.
Lyndal slowed her breathing, slowed everything. She wet her tingling lips and slowly rediscovered her ability to smile. Of course she would do this. She had plann
ed to do this before the sun appeared and Astin kissed her.
That kiss had changed her, marked her. It had ruined her. Was she supposed to ignore the fact?
She looked around again. Where was he?
‘Wave,’ Fayre said. ‘They need to see you happy.’
Somehow, Lyndal lifted her hand and forced a smile. The vocals below vibrated off the walls and drifted up to her.
‘I do not think I have ever witnessed so much adoration for a king,’ Borin said beside her, a grin splitting his face.
‘Imagine how proud your father would be right now,’ Fayre said, knowing exactly what he needed to hear.
‘I gather you all approve of your future queen?’ Borin shouted, taking Lyndal’s hand and presenting her to the merchants.
The crowd responded with more whistles and cheers.
After a few torturous minutes, the king stepped back from the wall and dropped her hand. ‘That was the easy borough. Let us see what the farmers have to say on the matter.’
‘The farmers have no objections,’ Fayre said. ‘They are already gathered, eager to hear the news.’
‘And the nobility?’ Lyndal asked, trying to bring volume to her voice.
‘Tonight they will join us for a feast,’ Fayre said. ‘That way they feel a part of the celebration.’
Borin brushed his fringe forwards and looked at Lyndal. ‘You must dazzle this evening. We cannot afford to lose their favour or respect. Let us not have a repeat of last night’s carriage wreck of a dinner.
‘Come, come,’ Fayre said, gesturing for them to start walking. ‘This is a time for celebration.’
With an impatient grunt, Borin walked off ahead, not bothering to wait for Lyndal. Five defenders marched after him. The cheering below had died, replaced with the hum of conversation.
‘You should have asked me first,’ Lyndal said to Fayre.
‘So that you had time to talk yourself out of it? It was better this way.’
Her eyes went to the queen mother. ‘Better for whom?’
‘For them.’ She pointed to the merchants below. ‘I spoke with your uncle days ago. He gave his blessing once he realised Lady Kendra was not a contender.’