Page 71 of An Archer's Redemption

I looked around and realized Seth had stolen more than just mine.

Smiles, once rare in the post-war Kingdom town, now spread like leaves on the breeze. I couldn’t remember ever seeing the poor standing shoulder to shoulder with their betters, yet here they were, listening and nodding, raising their own voices each time Seth lowered his.

I had struggled to understand what I felt from people as we strolled through the market, but now I knew for certain.

It was pride.

Not the haughty assertion of one’s dominance over another, but the humble satisfaction of a job well done. Even those of the lowest station seemed to walk a little taller than before.

And, perhaps, I felt something more from our strolls, from our clasped hands, from his lingering gaze. I tried not to dwell. Such hopes were for others, or so I had always thought.

When Seth’s last words echoed through the yard and the final rambunctious youth was rounded up, I hooked my arm in his. We strolled from the square, headed nowhere in particular, returning cheerful nods and “good evenings” to others headed home.

As we rounded the corner and our inn came into view at the far end of the road, Seth stopped walking.

“Seth?”

He looked into my eyes, then away. If whatever shook his confidence hadn’t sent a jolt of fear up my arm, his bashful lashes would have been adorable.

“I need to do something, and . . . I think it will be all right, but . . .”

“Seth, talk to me. What do you need—”

Strong hands shoved me against the side of the shop next to our inn where shadows hid us from the moonlight. Warm lips pressed into mine, and I thought the world might float away into the sky.

I’d never known happiness could fill a person’s chest so fully until that moment.

Chapter 30

Hershel

Two other men and I stood at the edge of the square and watched the crowd disperse. We painted on smiles and nodded, but beneath our masks, we brooded.

“We can’t wait much longer,” I whispered. “If he keeps this up, the whole town’d defend him even if he tried to stab the Queen in front of them.”

“They’d say he was spreading his good works using a dagger,” an embittered butcher grunted in agreement.

“Tomorrow night. We finish thistomorrownight,” I said.

The other men’s eyes locked on mine, then each man nodded once.

The butcher and wainwright turned and vanished into the night, leaving me glaring where Seth once stood. My stare could’ve burned the place down, if only I had the Gift of Fire.

The Order and its band of slicksters wanted the same things most men standing in the square wanted, attention and power.If I was any judge, I guessed the latter was far more important to the Priests and their prophet.

Their prophet.

The One.

What didhewant?

Seth was laying the groundwork for his grand entrance to the Kingdom’s stage, but to what end?

I thought through everything that had happened over the past year as I wandered home, oblivious to the falling temperatures and deepening darkness. When I looked up to see thickening clouds obscuring the moon and stars, thoughts of winter’s last gasp pushed to the fore, and I knew the coming days would spread a blanket of snow over the town’s spring-filled dreams.

Nothing to do about it but dig out, I thought as I kicked a rock further down the path, thankful for the momentary distraction from the town’s troubles.

I loved this place.

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