Page 123 of Untempered
Eating a bun with that image in my head wasn’t going to be possible. I held the warm, yeasty treat, shoved down my grief, and listened as she explained the three arms of the organization she wanted to put in place. Food, shelter, and work. Not workforthe food and shelter, but as an option for those who wanted to, and could help.
And I wanted to weep as I listened. Because these people, they were the ones who knew what was really happening. I was here only for encouragement and to give a semi-official seal of approval.
“I’ve a prisoner,” I told her, hoping she might work her magic on this problem, too. “His people are starving but won’t accept support. Mayhap this is a way forward for them? If it’s more removed from the keep, and therefore my father’s shadow.”
They both went silent for a moment, shared a quick look, and then Kaelson said, “I’d be cautious with prisoners, my lady. They’re often a lot more trouble than they’re worth. I don’t wish folks ill, but that particular chap was willing to take bread from a hospital.”
And that was that.
While it answered a lot of questions I hadn’t even thought to ask yet, they hadn’t been able to guide me on the issue of the prisoner.
“How are you faring?” Chay asked me, as we headed back to my rooms.
Restless.“Fine, thanking you, and yourself?”
He sent me a long, level look that made guilt swirl in my belly. “How are you, really?” he asked me pointedly.
I blew out a breath. “You’re not supposed to be annoyed. No one wants arealanswer when they ask that.”
“I do.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re theoneperson. I didn’t know this. I guess you’re allowed to be annoyed, but it still doesn’t make sense.”
“Lots of things don’t,” he said, and he sounded amused. “I’m thinking of going to give Bliksem a brush. Storm could use some love if you’ve the energy for it. The kitchens were warm, so I figured you might?—”
“Storm’s gone, Chay.” I’d done my best to avoid thinking about it, and had mostly succeeded. It seemed foolish to mourn my horse when my best friend was dying.
He shook his head. “She made it back herself.”
I staggered to a stop, the world spinning. Shewasn’tgone? “Why—how?—”
“She’s flighty,” he warned. “And not in great condition. But she’ll be okay, given a good long rest, a nice warm stall, and some love.”
The thought of her big brown eyes and happy greetings made me want to cry. She’d been here forweeks,and I hadn’t known?
I’d been such a coward. I hadn’t even checked.
The path to the stables seemed like it went on forever. The thought of grabbing up my skirts and running didn’t even occur to me until I finally made it there, so deeply was decorum drummed into me. But my heart beat furiously against my ribs, and I struggled to draw breath until I was in the dark, dusty stables and saw my girl, right where she should’ve been.
The joy I felt was so pure it hurt. She lifted her head and came over to the edge of the stall, meeting me at the gate and forcing me to watch my feet in the exuberance of her greeting. I buried my face in her neck and felt the warmth of her, the solid strength, and I cried.
She let me hold her, her head over my shoulder, as my heart broke and mended and broke again.
I hadn’t really lost much. Not compared to some. But it was coming. I couldseeit coming. I was watching, day by day, as my best friend slipped away. And while I tried my best to ignore that, it seemed, in that stall, with my horse back in my care, to be a burden I could put down, rather than ignore.
I heard a bucket being set down nearby, the slosh of water. “I’m going to give Bliksem some attention,” I heard Chay say. “I think this is Storm’s grooming equipment. It looks fit for such a wonderful girl, anyway.”
I finally went into her stall to find he’d brought what I’d need to get her cleaned up. “Thanking you,” I said, but I didn’t know if he could hear me, and I couldn’t point the words his way. It would mean turning away from Storm, and that seemed insurmountable.
Brushing her was a slow process because she wanted her head to be on my shoulder or her nose to be up in my face. I’d made good progress when I heard Chay chuckling from the stall door. I glanced over her back and saw him offering her a carrot. “Come on, there,” he said, his voice low and soft. “You let her get those itchy hairs out. You don’t need them all, now, do you?”
She inhaled the carrot and turned back to me, brushing the leafy top over my head in her haste to check on me.
“Want a second pair of hands?” he asked, amused affection in his words.
Mayhap I was too tender, but it was hard not to enjoy hearing that tone, even when it wasn’t directed at me. “She’s anxious, but if she’ll have you, you’re welcome.”
“Storm and I are friends, aren’t we, girl?”
