Page 99 of Rook of Ruin
We ride in comfortable silence for a while. “Isle, do you have a given name?”
“Not anymore. I gave it up years ago. I’m not the same woman. She died in the Stocks.” She is unemotional in her statement, like she made peace with it a long time ago. I want to ask her how she escaped, but now is not the time—she doesn’t know me well enough. Isle regards me. “Your Warrior’s Name is ferocious. Be proud of it. Un nom fort pour une princesse.” Isle chuckles. “Ruin. Seems about right.”
I swallow thickly as I look ahead to my new home.
As we ride into Bethal, I avoid the Sly Man. I can’t pretend. I try not to be obvious—I allow him to move Artho next to me—but I won’t look or talk to him. The tension is so thick between the two of us, I’m relieved when he has to go speak to a scout.
It’s Isle who tells me all the wonderful things about the people of Bethal instead of Simon. It’s Red who points out the fuzzy bunnies with tiny horns. It’s Dove who warns me to watch out for red spiders. It’s Viper who laughs at my surprise when I spot a large eagle almost the size of Sal soaring above.
When we break for water, I check on Paul, climbing into the carriage next to him.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
“Hey.” We sit in silence for a moment before Paul busts out, “I know why you’re upset.”
“You do?” I highly doubt it.
He puffs out. “Yes. You’re upset because you just found out about Simon’s name.”
Shocked, I ask, “Did you know this whole time?”
Paul shakes his head. “I figured it out. I’m a Rook, I’m supposed to know secrets.” I roll my eyes and he smirks. “I’ve never been to Bethal, and the warriors I met in Acros went by their given names . . . although Quill could be a Warrior’s Name.” He tilts his head in thought, and I put a hand over my mouth to stop myself from chuckling, which makes him smile before his face grows serious again. “I want you to know you have every reason to feel angry and upset. I am on your side. I also want you to know that when Simon’s warriors introduce themselves, they use their Warrior’s Name. O, I’ve met a man named Bucket. Can you imagine screaming that out in the midst of carriage sex? I mean, nothing says sexy like, ‘Fuck me, Bucket.’”
I laugh so hard, I almost fall out of the carriage—Simon and a few warriors glance back at my outburst. I avoid his eyes but still smile. “I needed that Paul. I needed a laugh.” I groan. “But I’m still angry.”
“I know, and you should be.” He reaches out, and I grab his hand for a moment, then fuss over his bandages, checking his wounds. Paul gives me a quick hug before we break apart and I leave the carriage.
After mounting Sal, I move next to Simon. He’s infuriating, almost as much as that ass, Ossian, but Simon is infuriating in a different way, though certainly as secretive. I’m hurt, disappointed he didn’t tell me, but we need to present a united front; we can’t argue in front of the warriors, especially not in a full-blown fight. This is frustrating as fuck. He doesn’t speak to me, and the silence between us quickly becomes awkward.Is this how our marriage will be?As much as I’ve given of myself to Simon, he couldn’t even tell me his true name? Tension mounts as he opens his mouth but then shuts it. I believe we are both trying to choose the right words, find the right thing to say.
After what feels like an eternity, I finally break. Calmly and so only he can hear, I say, “I’m angry. You lied. You hurt me. You should have told me.”
He nods, either afraid to look at me or to acknowledge he messed up. I can see his mind turning, choosing his words. “I understand.” No, he doesn’t understand. He shifts his large body. “We will speak of this later.”
“Fine.”
“It isn’t fine, O,” he says quietly. I snap my head to him. “But can I tell you about Bethal?”
After I tilt my head slightly as a sign of permission, he bites back a smile, still not daring to look at me.
“We have beautiful shores. I want to take you to the sea. Let the bubbles rush over your feet. We have large sandy beaches, and if you look out to the horizon—”
“Sir,” a healer calls as he rides up. “We need to stop for a Grey Sister.”
My heart plummets, and Simon’s face turns grim. “We will stop at Dailah, just north of here.”
The sky turns a dark shade of pink as we ride down the street of the large town of Dailah, almost a city, with beautiful woodwork throughout. I find myself gaping at all the intricate carvings into the stone and wood of the buildings. This is nothing like Marrith or the thatched roof villages across Acros. This is a beautiful town ready for war. The stone wall surrounding the town is large and deep. Simon tells me it was built after the attack from the island of Ulvan, when the Great Warrior King of Bethal required all townships to have walls built to keep citizens safe.
Warriors in black are at attention throughout the cobbled streets, and everyone from the town comes to greet us. Unlike the gracious flowers and cheers from Acros, they are all somber. They see the gore on our bodies and our grim expressions as we move closer to the center of the town. Most place their fists over their hearts or bow their heads, and they all hold candles as if in a silent vigil.
A Grey Sister meets us as we turn a corner, a solemn look on her face as she holds velvet black boxes for the Death Rites. Simon greets her with Isle, then they speak in low tones and walk back to the injured carriage. I dismount Sal, rubbing her beautiful neck.
Isle comes up next to me. “Ma’am, Simon wishes for you to take the Rook to the inn for the night.” She swallows. “We are losing more than one tonight.”
“What can I do for them, Isle? What can I do for you?” My heart is aching for their loss.
“Join us to celebrate their lives. Buy a round of spice.” She glances at the carriage. “Go to the inn and take the Rook. We will meet you there.”
I mount Sal and follow the royal carriage along with Red and Dove towards the largest inn I’ve ever laid eyes on. Its tall wooden columns and large doors are beautifully carved, and warm smells of cooked meat and bread fill the air. People stare at our black-blood-stained faces and fighting leathers. Red jumps off her steed and opens the carriage door for Paul, and I dismount Sal behind the carriage and hand the reins to Dove.
