Page 128 of Between Fear and Favor

“No, ah, Elora. The king and queen’s daughter. She is very sweet, if a bit mischievous. She’s a couple years younger than Astrid, I believe, but I think they might have had similar upbringings.”

“Mmm, I keep forgetting about that,” she said, laughing. “For a moment, I’d thought you were speaking fondly of Lavenia.”

Blinking, I cleared my throat. “I have nothing but fond things to say about her. Though I don’t know her nearly as well,” I said, wondering if Saski knew the princess was missing.

“I’m surprised to hear that,” she said, and when she gave me a shrewd smirk, it finally dawned on me why she’d say such a thing.

“Oh, I-I do not know much about the bond they shared, if that’s what you mean. I just know it’s been over since I met him.” My cheeks flushed scarlet, certain she wanted to know how I felt about Lavenia having been a partner to Dewalt for a very long time. I saw Dickey straighten out of the corner of my eye, curiosity pulling him from his quiet tiredness.

Truthfully, I preferred not to think about it. It was well-known there was no love between them, so did it matter? But by that logic, did the events of the outpost matter? When he had touched me, and I had touched him? It certainly did to me, and I thought it had to him. I shook my head, trying to free myself from thoughts of the princess. It only invited a mad swirling of thoughts and insecurities, and I didn’t like them. Lavenia had been kind to me when I’d interacted with her, and that was more than I could say for most people in my life.

“That’s sort of what I mean, but I can tell when my questions aren’t welcome,” Saski said, not unkindly.

“You’re not unw?—”

“No, I am. My brother has always found me a bit overbearing.” She smiled, reaching up to pat Betty’s neck. “I do think he missed being fussed over, though.”

I grinned, thinking of his sheepish expression as she’d made us corn porridge for breakfast, telling me about the time he’d stripped naked at the age of three and rolled in it because he didn’t want corn porridge that day. There was such genuine fondness in her eyes that, though he glared at her, he softened within a moment. The corners of her eyes had wrinkled, and she watched him like she still saw that little boy who’d aggravated her all those years ago.

I knew if they’d looked at me then, they’d have seen it—the hunger. The desperate ache for something I’d never experienced. My mother had never looked at me like that. She tried, I was sure, but I was her burden and inconvenience more than anything else. To have someone look at me with such fondness for our shared memories? It would be a type of affection I’d never give up.

“I don’t think he’ll stay away so long again,” I said, swallowing down my hot greed, hopeful for both of them that I was telling the truth. I watched him as he moved to the other grave, his dark hair and clothing an inkblot against the grey stones and melting snow. When the rising sun bathed his face, he closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his chin toward the sky.

“We shall see,” Saski said, turning to look up at me. She was so similar to her brother, and I wondered if that was why I felt so familiar with her. They had the same dark brows, long nose, and high cheekbones. Her mouth was fuller and her face was more rounded, but her skin was the exact shade of copper as his. Those familiar dark brows pitched together in a way I’d rarely seen from her brother, and a soft concern stole over her features. “It’s something he’s always done,” she said, speaking quietly.

“What is?”

“I had a difficult delivery with Luka, and so when he found out I was expecting Astrid, he left right before she was born. He went to Astana to see the prince and waited to return until he received a letter from Magnus,” she said, placing a hand on my knee and squeezing. “And I’m sure you know what happened right before his last visit here. I think you know quite a bit about him, if I’m honest.” A knowing smile lifted her lips, as if she suspected more between us than just the king’s right hand escorting a ward of the Crown. She smiled at me as if I was his lover or his closest confidante. As if I knew every one of his secrets and all of his dreams, and it filled me with a brutal longing.

“I’d love it if you were correct—that he won’t stay away so long—but he’s avoided us since then,” she said.

I nodded, throat tight. He hadn’t wanted her pity, and part of me thought he felt he didn’t deserve her comfort. But it had been so long, I wondered what kept him away past his initial grieving.

“He runs when he’s scared, Nor,” she said, giving me a thoughtful smile. “It just means he loves us, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Dewalt stood, tracing a fingertip over the wooden marker he’d knelt before. When he turned around, the sun burning bright behind him as he walked, my gaze traced over the cut of his jaw and the curve of his lips, and I held my breath. When he came to hug Saski and tell her goodbye, and when he gripped my ankle, asking if I was ready, I fought the urge to cry.

Her words, when given air to breathe and room to expand, felt like a warning.

I hadn’t thoughtabout what I’d feel when facing Nara’s Cove, my eyes rapidly scanning the coastline as I searched for the ship which had taken me to Folterra nearly a year before. I knew it wasn’t there, but still, I couldn’t keep my eyes from darting back and forth as I pulled my cloak tighter around my body. Not for the first time, I wondered what happened to all the soldiers who had been under Declan’s command. With the boy—my uncle—hidden away on the eastern side of the continent, what became of those who gave Declan their loyalty? Had it all been forced, or had any served him willingly? I supposed those who served him willingly likely fought alongside the Supreme now. But the others? There had been kind soldiers in Folterra. Where did they go? Did they return home, trying to make up for lost time?

Nara’s Cove was quite different now. Gone were the fishmongers, who’d asked no questions when they’d seen a line of novices forced onto a ship. The stalls which held artisan wares imported from the lands far west past Folterra were gone. The only evidence they were ever there was the worn brick in the places they’d stood. The bustling port city had been scoured by war—those able to head toward the mountains had been gone for weeks. The fortress, farther north on the coast, where the cliff face grew tall, had been mostly silent when I’d been here before. Now, it was a hub of activity, soldiers pacing along the battlements to keep watch on the horizon.

“Gods, you look so much better than last I saw you.”

Startled, I turned toward the soft voice. “Marella,” I said, smiling at the girl as I took in the gaunt features of someone who’d been kind to me when I’d been rescued from Folterra. Bruises of fatigue sat heavily beneath her eyes, and her russet skin had gone ashen. Slim before her grief, she appeared almost sickly now. The tragedy which had befallen her father had bored into her flesh, rendering her emotional pain into physical. “It is good to see you,” I said. “I hope you’ve been kind to yourself.”

She swallowed, eyes darting over my shoulder to avoid eye contact. “After we find Aida—then there might be room for kindness.”

I said nothing as I pulled her hand into mine. Though it was considerably warmer outside than it had been, her hands were quite cold. “Do you have any idea where she might be?” I asked, uncertain if she suspected her father’s lover in his murder.

Marella’s jaw tensed, and she turned away, eyes red. “She could be anywhere. She could be in the eternal lands for all I know.” She tucked her arm in mine, dragging me toward the fortress. “Come. I can make you a bed in our chambers. I have to stop in and check on the blacksmith’s wife on our way. She’s with child and Rodney is so busy, and she says she can handle it because she’s not toward the end of it yet, but—sorry, I just have so much to do, and you don’t need to hear about all of it,” the girl said, catching her breath. “I didn’t know you were coming until a few moments ago, or else it would be ready now.”

“I should wait for Dewalt. Er, the general,” I said, turning toward the guard tent he’d gone into nearly half an hour before. I winced, remembering he was here to replace her father. “He shouldn’t be long,” I blurted.

Marella’s dark brows pulled in. “They’re already finished. He’s who asked me to fetch you. I was on my way to visit someone in town, but it can wait.”

Air whooshed out of my lungs, and I pulled my cloak around myself. Had he snuck past? Why hadn’t he bothered speaking to me?

---