“He’d talked about serving a Queen. Some funny idea he’d got in his head. I wish I could see him.” Weaver drops his head to cry in silence.
Ginata pats his arm and walks over to Ceryn, sits on the floor beside her. “Archer was brave to the end.”
Ceryn doesn’t answer, just cries louder.
“Did he know that you were in love with him?”
Ceryn shakes her head, no.
Ginata rubs her back, soothing her as best she can, this awkward, grouchy, masked stranger.
After a while Ceryn sits up, wipes her hands over her wet face, straightens her mask and looks at Ginata, whose eyes focus on the mask but look away quickly; she knows it’s not the time to ask.
“Did he really love her?”
Ginata nods. “I think so. He was happy to fight for her, die for her.”
“Is she that special?
“She is special. I think so, Archer thought so...”
“And she will be Queen?”
“I hope so. We’re working on it.”
“Working on it?”
“Well her brother is King now, but we would like her to rule. There’s a prophecy. It’s what she was born to do. But her brother’s more than a bit mad. We’re worried that he’ll kill her. He won’t give up his crown easily, if at all.”
“And that’s why Archer was here?”
“Yes.”
“I want to meet her.”
Weaver looks over at them. “Not a good idea, Ceryn.”
“She’s the reason he died. I want to see her.”
Weaver comes to her side, takes her hand, looks at Ginata for some back up.
But Ginata nods her head. “I think it’s a good idea. Sleep here tonight, there’s plenty of room. I will have the little maids bring in extra bedding and pallets. I’ll get a bath drawn up for you both. Some food.”
“Are you sure, Cer?” Weaver’s voice is low and soft. “Shall we just go home, remember Archer together, grieve for him...”
“Not yet,” she says, and her voice is as firm as the set of her mouth.
Ginata leaves them talking at the window seat, crying and hugging, remembering their friend, and goes to fetch a little maid.
She asks for food and drink, clean sleep clothes – boys ones – for them both; she can tell already that Ceryn will not be happy in a nightdress, and for a fragranced bath to be filled. She asks for the fire to be lit and extra beds to be made up.
She is ready to sleep herself but at least the arrival of these two has taken her mind off the fear that Millard would go to the tower and find Lanorie instead of his sister. If he did that she would die for her part in it all, and she didn’t want that to happen.
A little maid comes in with mugs and wine, followed by a steady stream of others sorting out all the little details that Ginata has asked to be done. She enjoys this part of living in the castle. One of the little maids brings a goblet to her, one she recognises from Millard’s rooms. “From the King. He says thank you for your good counsel.”
Ginata takes it and sniffs at it, suspicious since Macsen killed the old King with a death draught. But then Millard has no reason to kill her and every reason to be happy with her. She is doing everything to make him happy.
“Here.” She pours wine for the two grieving friends and sips at the drink Millard has sent her. It tastes fine and she doesn’t drop dead.
Ceryn and Weaver are silent, in shock, in fury, in helpless misery and Ginata feels sorry for them and for Everleigh facing the wrath of this woman in the morning.
Lanorie
I HAVE SLEPT TWO NIGHTS in this tower of evil and I’m ready to die. If I heard Millard now I would call him in. Ask him to end it.
Oh, it is a sorry state I’m in. I am smelly and cold and hungry, even though I am eating three meals a day and doing no work.
My mind is running with thoughts and ideas and I have bitten my lips bloody trying to keep quiet.
I hear the key in the lock and turn away from the door. I know these guards are thicker than me but still I won’t let them catch me here. I won’t make it easy for them. I lay with my head facing the wall and ignore the door swinging open, as I did all day yesterday too.
There’s silence until the door shuts again, the key turned in the lock. I shift to look at the little maid, whichever one has brought me food and I cry out, before covering my mouth with my hand.
Cook!
I jump up and fling my arms around her neck.
“Shh, you silly girl.” Her voice is low and I know she’s not really cross with me, just pretending, like she does.
I don’t answer, just cry and cling to her.
“You’ve got yourself in a right pickle, haven’t you?”
I nod and draw back from her, looking at her kind old face. Cook is the person I’m closest to except Everleigh. She always looks after me, answers my questions, is kind to me. I love her.
“Why are you here?”
“To see you, you sausage. To make sure you’re alright. To tell you off for trying to be brave.”
“I had to. You don’t understand...”
“Oh, I understand it all.” She takes a seat on my bed. “Ooh, this isn’t very comfy, is it?”
I shrug. I don’t suppose Millard wants his prisoners to be comfy when he throws them in here.
“Lanny, love, I see and I know more than you think I do, stood in my kitchen. You think I don’t see you all rushing past, this way and that, making your little plans? You and the Kingmaker, and the fool who’s half in love with you.”
“What?” I know she’s wrong now. Will’s never in love with me.
“Ah, shh, poor fool. And that boy you were sweet on? I see it all and I know it all. I know you’re stuck in here now, because you switched places with poor little Addyson. Not so clever, Lanny, love.”
I nod miserably. Oh, I thought I was clever at the time.
“How will you get out, then?”
I shrug. This visit is making me feel awful. I reckon Cook meant to cheer me up, not just tell me off, but I feel terrible.
“Ginata came to see me, they are working on getting me out.”
“He’ll kill you if he finds you here...Broke my heart yesterday seeing that darling boy turn like that, killing everyone, easy as anything. I fed him from a baby. How often he’d sneak in the kitchen looking for freshly cooked bread or hot cakes, icing dripping off the sides. He was so handsome. Not sure what went wrong...”
We’ll never know. I lay on the bed, and snuggle up to her back. She feels warm and smells of food. I can smell the food she’s brought too. I shut my eyes, pretend that I’m back in the kitchen, late at night, chatting and laughing, putting the Realm to rights, she’d say.
“Poor love...” Cook smooths my hair, whispering sweet words. I might die soon but I am happy right now. Ready to eat and then sleep another night in this awful tower, with spiders scuttling over my face and rats trying to nibble me.
16
WILL IS SOMERSAULTING through the corridor on the way to Ginata’s rooms. He is still being followed and quite enjoying being ridiculously foolish for the sake of the guard following him. He has already eaten the dog’s scraps for his breakfast and juggled with full water jugs, soaking himself and a few people that were passing, and now he is flipping his way to Ginata.
“I need a potion, a love potion,” he tells the guard who pretends to be uninterested, though he could not be more obvious about following him. Will is sure by now that he is far less foolish than most of Millard’s guards.
He knocks on the door but doesn’t wait for Ginata to call for him; he is fed up of being watched and slips inside. Ginata is sitting at the window seat, two people Will doesn’t know standing in front of her, hugging each other.
He shakes off his fool’s self, and straightens up, taking the silly look off his face; really, he’s a pretty good actor. He acts the fool but he’s sure he’s not. Not really.
“Good morning.”
&n
bsp; Ginata turns to him, relief palpable. “Will!”
She beckons him over and he joins her. “Will, these are Archer’s friends.”
Will’s face drops, sadness and empathy taking the place of his normal open and friendly expression. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” It’s Weaver that speaks; the woman, a mask covering most of her face, is sullenly silent.
“He was a fine fellow. You must be heartbroken.”
“That’s an understatement.” Weaver says, wiping at fresh tears. Will he ever stop crying?
Ceryn glares at Will but doesn’t speak.
“I’ll leave you two to eat,” Ginata says and draws Will away from them to the other end of the room.
“Poor things,” Will says, looking back at them. Neither of them is eating, just talking, their voices low, hands wiping at tears.
“Indeed. She wants to meet Everleigh.”
“Why?”
Ginata shrugs. “I think she was in love with Archer. I think she blames Everleigh. I think she’s furious. And pretty spiky anyway.”
“What’s with the mask?”
“I’m not sure. I feel like she’s had a rough life. There’s a lot of unhappiness inside her. And anger. And defensiveness. Maybe the devil’s mark? Hard to say but it must be bad to keep it covered. Maybe pox scars?”
“Nasty. Is it a good idea to let her see Everleigh? She looks like she can take care of herself.”
“Oh, she’s a fighter all right. But I’ll be there and Della and Finn. I think her friend, Weaver, will keep her calm. He’s got a lovely energy.”
“Unlike her.”
Ginata smiles. “How are you bearing up? With Lanorie locked up and not being able to see Everleigh?”
“I’m fine. I’m enjoying messing around for my guard’s sake though. That’s fun.”
“I bet. It will be over soon. Just a few more days. We tried to rescue Lanorie last night, but Millard was expecting it. We won’t stop trying, though. Everleigh won’t let her die.”
“Do you think?”
“I know.”
“Can you see anything?”
“My visions are slow, sludgy now. I see fragments of things, symbolism more than anything else. I think I’m too worried to make sense of it all. I need peace.”
“There’s not much of that going around.”
“Not at all. What will you do today?”
“Be foolish. I’ll see you at lunch though. Will our visitors be gone by then, d’you think?”
“I think so. There’s nothing here for them.”
“I’ll have some breakfast before I go.”
Will’s presence seems to calm Weaver and Ceryn slightly; they both eat and drink, and Weaver even smiles once or twice.
“You would have been proud of Archer,” Will says. “He was so brave and so capable. He won the joust.”
“He always wins the joust,” Ceryn says shortly. “Won.”
Everyone is silent. Will and Ginata both wishing Millard was here so they could strangle him with their bare hands.
EVERLEIGH IS SIPPING ale, nibbling on cheese and watching Della with her sister. It makes her happier than anything, to see Addyson so taken with someone and someone being so kind to her; and not because they have to, because they want to. She is blossoming under Della’s watchful eye and care. Della loves playing mother and Addyson has never had one. They are finding real joy in each other. Everleigh is happy to watch from the side-lines and Finn is pleased that Della is off his back.
“I can go to the inn and have an ale now without her worrying where I am,” he whispers to Everleigh, taking a seat beside her. Everleigh grins. “She’s wonderful, your sister.”
“Thank you. I like her. I just don’t like her nagging.”
“I’m sure. Addyson loves her.”
“All Della wants is a load of family around her, and with only me, she’s been left short.”
“Do you think she’s sad?”
“She would never tell me. But I think so.”
They are both quiet, watching Della show Addyson how to lay the fire properly.
“She’s good for her,” Everleigh says.
“She’s good for her,” Finn says, and they smile.
“If I survive this week and I get my crown, do you think your sister would be happy to keep spending time with my sister?”
“Do you think we could stop her?”
“Hopefully not. My poor sister, she’s been lonely her whole life. There’s only so much I’ve been able to do...you know about her curse?”
“Yes, of course. Everyone around here knows everything about you lot. Royal watching is a big hobby.”
Everleigh laughs. “Really?”
“Absolutely. My sister has been obsessed with your brothers for years. If she’d only known...”
“That’s madness. I miss my brothers. Who they were, before, I mean.”
“I can’t imagine. Your family has always been happy and close.”
“And all of the villagers watch us?”
“The whole of the Realm.” Finn is quiet for a second. “I’m glad you didn’t die. I’ve never seen a Kingmaker killed before.”
“I can’t imagine it’s pretty.”
“I can’t imagine it, full stop.”
“I know you thought I was brave.”
“I did. I’d be carrying some dead animal, helping my dad, and I just thought you were amazing.”
“Is that what you still do? Farm?”
“Yes, and hunt. I help down the road. I do a bit of everything but hunting and fishing are the main things I’m good at.”
“I’m not good at anything.”
“What do you mean? You’re going to be Queen.”
“Being Queen isn’t being good at anything. I was born to die as the Kingmaker, now a prophecy says I’m born to live, to rule, but that doesn’t mean a thing.”
“What about your magic stuff?”
“That helped save the people I love; you mean?”
“Well maybe you’ll get better at it? Work at it? I know I would, if I was magic. I’d be magicking all day long.”
“Magicking?”
“Doing magic, I don’t know. But you can’t say you’re not good at anything.”
“Maybe...”
“We’ll try it later, when everyone’s together. We’ll help you. Then you’ll get better.”
Everleigh smiles. “Deal.”
Ginata
THE WALK TO MY LOVELY little cottage is full of awkward silences and tension. No matter how hard I try to chat and smile and engage these two, I can’t.
I do understand why, of course, but I am struggling with everything these last few days.
Everleigh has had her meltdown, Will is stuck in the confines of the castle and I feel like I am shouldering it all.
Weaver is lovely, though sad and quiet. Ceryn is hard work. Her anger doesn’t just stem from Archer and that’s why she’s so difficult. Her life has been full of anger and sadness, disappointment, hurt, shame.
Even with the fear of Millard finding out I’m involved in helping Everleigh I don’t feel the way this woman feels. She is filled with stresses, with darkness. I imagine peace is a feeling she has never once felt. I know Weaver brings her happiness and I am sure Archer did the same, but the demons inside her fill her with blackness.
Archer. So, she was in love with him too. I wonder what these two girls will think of each other. They are both so young and they’ve both had difficult times. I am sure they will clash; Ceryn looks ready for a fight, more than ready.
As we approach my cottage I do warn her.
“Ceryn, I don’t know you but I can see that you are angry and unhappy. I will not allow you to physically harm Everleigh. She is ready to be the Queen of this Realm – the place you call home. By Saturday, if all goes to plan, she will be your ruler. Don’t do anything rash.”
“Physically harm? So, what? I’m allowed to call her names?”
&nb
sp; Weaver swats her arm and she gives him an innocent look.
“I don’t know why you’re so sure that you will hate her.”
“Because I have nothing in common with her. And she killed Archer.”
“You are similar enough that you both loved the same man. And she didn’t kill Archer, her brother did.”
Ceryn stands up a little straighter. “You’re right. I should just kill the King.”
“Ceryn!” Weaver pulls at her arm this time, turning her to face him. “Ceryn. You sound mad now. You cannot kill a King; it’s treason. His guards would kill you as soon as you tried.”
“I wouldn’t try. I would succeed.”
“And then you’d be dead.”
Ceryn shrugs and I am sure she has imagined ending it all before now.
Weaver’s voice is quiet, hurt. “You’d leave me all alone?”
Ceryn looks at him and shakes her head. “I won’t leave you. But I could kill him.”
“Something else you and Everleigh have in common. She wants to see her brother dead. She wants his crown.”
I lead the way down the path to my cottage. The door is open, Della and Addyson are looking at the different flowers that grow along the pathway. Della is, no doubt, teaching her everything she knows.
They both look happy and I smile. I had a feeling Della would enjoy looking after Addyson. She has spoken to me so many times about her fear that she has left her own love life too late, because she’s been looking after her brother. I know she worries that she may never be a mother.
Everleigh and Finn come out of the cottage and Everleigh waves when she spots me, frowning, only slightly, when she sees Ceryn and Weaver.
I take a deep breath; this may be unpleasant, and I feel badly for surprising her in this way.
I go ahead so that I can tell her who they are and why they are here, but Ceryn pushes past me and runs down the path. She stops in front of Everleigh, her eyes flashing above her mask; she looks quite mad and I imagine it is taking every ounce of will power she has to stop herself knocking Everleigh out.
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