Page 32 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
“I think he does,” said Eirwen.
“Ah. And that’s why you trust him.”
She nodded. “If he was willing to go this far… I think that sayssomethingabout his character.”
Onyx scoffed. “You always believe the best in people. It’ll get you into trouble one day.”
“But until that day, I’ll be happier than you, who always believes the worst.”
In the kitchen, Garnet snorted into the spoonful of soup she was testing. Onyx growled. “Traitorous woman…”
“I’m sorry, dear, but she has you there. I hope Eira never stops believing the best in people. It’s charming.”
“It’s asking for trouble.”
The Huntsman sighed. “Thank you for not telling him about me. I’ll keep an eye on him, just in case.”
“Thank you.”
The Huntsman took the twins out into the forest with Wren for a lesson in trapmaking. Eirwen helped Onyx with the animals and then spent some of the afternoon with Oakley in his hut, brewing potions. Dinner was ready by the time they were done. It was a pleasant affair. A cask of ‘decent’ ale was opened in the Huntsman’s honour, and Wren got very rowdy after a few tankards. The twins retired early, but Eirwen stayed up a little longer, laughing and chatting with the others.
The conversations didn’t last as long with her around, like there was something blocking them. She was at a difficult age for the adults, she knew. She looked like an adult. She mostly acted like one. She was approaching the age. But dwarven seventeen-year-olds were still children, and she knew they struggled with comprehending how fast she grew.
And there was something else, too. Something they weren’t saying.
She retired not long after the twins, but she did not go to sleep. Not this time. Twenty minutes after she departed, she heard Garnet’s footsteps on the stairs, felt her watchful gaze through the gossamer curtains.
“She’s asleep,” she heard her whisper.
The conversation grew quieter.
“Tell us, Huntsman,” said Onyx darkly, “how bad is it in the capital?”
The Huntsman sighed. “The taxes–”
“We know about that. That affectsus.But tell ushow badit is.”
The sound shrivelled further away. The fire crackled in the grate.
“There are some households who will not survive the winter,” said the Huntsman finally. “The poor will starve. There is nothing to be done, no charities to support them, no place for them to go. The queen cut funding long ago. Crime is up, obviously, but criminals are dealt with most severely. I am not sure what will remain of Aberthor if Queen Bianca reigns another year.”
Eirwen shivered in her sheets.
“What… what would you suggest we do?” asked Wren after a pause.
“The Princess needs to return to Aberthor and challenge the Queen’s right to the throne.”
“No!” Garnet snapped. “No, no, I forbid it. She’s too young. The Queen will cut her down in an instant–”
“Eirwen can handle herself,” said Onyx. “She’s tougher than you give her credit for, woman.”
“She’s tough,” Garnet returned, “she’s alsomine.I don’t want to see her hurt.”
“Many others will be hurt if she does nothing,” the Huntsman added. “The only difference is you won’t see it. I know you think you’re safe here in the woods, and perhaps you will remain mostly untouched by anything that transpires, but do you think the Princess will? Sooner or later, she may wish to return. She should have a say in her own fate.”
Something shuffled below. Garnet must have stood up. “We… we’ll speak to her in the morning,” she said stiffly. “Let her have one more night of being a child.”
Eirwen shuddered in her bed as the house grew cold and dark, wondering how long it had been since she had called herself that, and if she would ever sleep easily again.
