Page 102 of Staff of Nightfall

She swallowed back a whimper.

He shook his head, admiration sparking in his eyes. “I would never have expected someone of his age to move so fast. He didn’t think. He just fought.” Dresden sighed heavily and his gaze left hers. “But Carrick was too fast and too strong. Alfred didn’t stand a chance. He was stabbed through the heart. He died quickly.”

Against her will, an image of a sword thrusting into Father’s chest filled her mind. She tightened her jaw against traitorous sobs. She pressed her eyes closed as her stomach roiled.

“I was supposed to keep him safe,” she whispered.

“He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself,” Dresden said quietly. “I spent several days with him, and I know how much he loved you.”

His words meant to comfort just made her loss more acute.

“Your father never thought you needed to protect him. He just wanted to protect you. He would gladly have given his life for you, and he would never blame you.”

She trembled as tears dripped off her chin. She wanted to tell Dresden to stop, stop talking, stop trying to make her feel better. Where once had been a father’s love, now was an aching, empty loneliness. She didn’t want him to try to ease her pain. But she couldn’t make herself speak.

“He made his choice to stand his ground and defend the king.” Dresden’s eyes met hers, but instead of pity she didn’t want, she saw unexpected understanding and determination. “He knew the risk. He didn’t have to bring a sword or follow after the king. He didn’t even have to come to the masque.”

“If you think he didn’t have to come,” Adelaide whispered, “you don’t...didn’t know him very well at all.”

“That’s my point.” Dresden leaned forward in the chair. He winced and clutched his side with a sharp intake of breath.

“What am I doing?” She wiped at her eyes and moved over to Dresden. “You’re hurt. And I’m...I’m...”Useless.She held her hand over his side. The cut was long, but didn’t touch any of his vital organs, and whoever had stitched him up had done a good job.

“Adelaide—”

“Almost done.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. Every word was just another strike, the hit of a hammer against an anvil, forging Father’s death into an inescapable reality.

She finished healing his side. “You’ll have to pull the stitches out.” She headed back toward the bed, but Dresden caught her hand.

“Thank you. But you need to listen. Because if you can’t forgive yourself, you’re going to break. I’ve seen it before.”

She pulled her hand away and sat on the bed.

“Your father knew what he was doing; he was aware of the danger, and he did it anyway because that’s who he was.He was a good man. A brave man. He deserves your pride, not your self-blame.”

“I don’t want to be proud.” She rubbed away a tear with a shaking hand. “I want him back.”I want my Father back. I want him to embrace me and tell me everything is going to be all right.Her teeth chattered as she tried to stop crying.

Dresden didn’t respond, and she was thankful. She didn’t want platitudes or expressions of pity or pointless apologies. If she had resented Nolan before, that rage had frozen over into stone-hard hatred that threatened to drag her down and drown her in the storm-tossed waters of her hopelessness and sorrow. But some part of her whispered it wasn’t really Nolan she hated; it was herself. Maybe Dresden was right. If she couldn’t forgive herself and accept Father’s sacrifice, she was going to crack. She clenched the worn blanket in her fists. Father was dead, and Regulus was gone, and Mother was—Mother.

“How am I supposed to tell my mother...?” Adelaide buried her face in her hands. How could she even cry this much? How could her heart hurt this much and not just kill her?

She didn’t know how long she cried. Ten minutes, twenty, thirty, five. Time had ceased to have meaning. When she stopped, she took several deep breaths. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Um...” Dresden cleared his throat. “A...Lieutenant Bell? Ball? A lieutenant said you’re to report to him as soon as possible. Technically, he said the minute you wake up. He wanted to wake you, but I wouldn’t let him.”

She should have known. Duty first. “Can...can you come with me?”

“Of course.”

They walked through the dark night to the barracks, an orb floating above them to light the way. She guessed it to be around three in the morning. A guard on duty at the entrance to the courtyard said Beale was in his chamber, but had left orders that if she came, to show her straight in. The guard led them to the end of the first floor of the barracks and knocked on a door. No one stirred inside, so he knocked again, harder and longer. A muffled voice shouted for them to enter. The guard bowed and departed, and Adelaide pushed the door open.

Beale sat on his bed, rubbing his eyes. His uniform coat was on but open over a white undershirt. His boots laid on the floor, but thankfully he was still wearing his trousers.

“Ah, good. Belanger.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I need a report of what happened in the hall after the king left.”

“Where is the king?” Weariness made her voice small.

“Safe. The royal family have been escorted to various places to hide. The king wants you to join him at once. But first I need to know what happened and what we’re looking at going forward.” He glanced toward Dresden. “I got a report from Sir Jakobs about what he knows about the attack. But I was knocked unconscious by Kirven’s initial blast. I’m working blind here.”

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