Page 19 of Unrivaled
He froze, one foot in the air, as if the idea was almost too much.Hope, grief, fear and excitement…it was all there in his face.
He had something outside of La’Angi.
I had one year.
I forced myself to be patient while he regained his equilibrium, his eyes locked on the precious parchment belly-up across my desk.He stopped beside me, his gaze running over the impersonal words written in the most personal fashion, his throat bobbing.
One big hand reached slowly over to the note before me.I drew in a breath as he opened the paper that wanted to curl up on itself.He used only one strong finger, his touch gentle.
“What do I say?”he asked, and the words were raw.“Who will see this?”
That was the key question and I pushed away my misgivings.“Allison.”
His eyes finally lifted to me.Tears swam there again.“She isn’t oathbound.She’s an apprentice.”
“And she’d be bound to my father even if she was sworn in,” I acknowledged, while keeping my other doubts to myself.
He nodded and blew out a breath.I offered him the quill, and, to my surprise, he took it.
In my seat, he had to sit forward so his sword would hang at a comfortable angle.His penmanship was what my tutors would’ve calledunrefined.I liked all of his bold, honest lines.
Thinking of you all,he wrote, then signed his name and put the quill down before he reached for me.
“When you’re done,” Isolde said, nonchalantly, “we can send it.I assume this changes things, unlike the Butcher’s useless note?”
It did.They both did, despite Isolde’s denial.Which things were changed, and how much, I didn’t know yet.Not knowing was a particularly exquisite discomfort I tried to ignore by squeezing Chay’s hand.I went back to change into my respectable, if dull, clothes.
Isolde helped me dress without any further comments.She seemed to be in a good mood, but I supposed it was fair to assume the plague hadn’t impacted the Steppes or the Matri’sion tribes in the north-west if it hadn’t made it as far as ’Ban.
Allison was waiting for me in the main hall we’d turned into a mess hall and meeting room in one, the delicate filigree clockwork sleeve open in front of her.Sticks of unlit incense circled her, connected with copper wires and positioned to connect to a crystal ball with lightning inside of it.
I went straight to her, message coiled and ready.She took it and, without opening it, as she was supposed to, laid it into the metal that would act as a seal and proof of my identity.
She was supposed to read it.She was adding her magical signature to it by casting the spell.
I said nothing as she worked, the smell of incense and metal filling my head.Her Dayquill sat to one side, glowing faintly with the magic that imbued it to carry messages from the lips of the writer in crisp, clear, impersonal script.But her Dayquillalwayssat beside her.
She knew who that missive had been from.She’d been required to unseal it, after all.
No one was talking.I smoothed a hand over my skirt, but it was all in place.I knew people were waiting, hungry for news, but was I to announce it?My father will return, but not for a year.The people who we treated like enemies under my father’s control, who I’d like to be allies with, they’re well!And they have wheat!
“Should I have mentioned wheat?”I asked Isolde, as we left the feast hall.“To Darrius?To set up trades?”
She shrugged.“Seems like any ship with wheat on it that he sent would get here too late to do any good, and a mere trade caravan would take your entire lands if they wanted to.The less you ask of others until we stabilize, the better.”
“Darrius won’t take La’Angi,” Chay said, impatiently, from his place a half-step behind me and to my left.“He couldhelpAudrey.”
“Just becauseyou’vehad a change of…heart.”Isolde’s gaze went over my shoulder as she raised her brows at him.“Not everyone shares your fondness for…our city.”I felt the creeping embarrassment at the blunt jokes, but didn’t dare to look to see if he was uncomfortable with the jesting, ignoring the gnawing worry.
“The footing is unsure here, my lady,” Thomas said without infliction.“Best mind your step.”
Isolde wouldn’t have been teasing Chay if we weren’t alone, but Thomas’ words reminded me that he’d seen us in a significantly more compromising position this afternoon, and he’d had strong opinions on much less.
I was going to need to talk to him, too.Somehow.
One year.
The chore at hand busied me as I found the older man who’d taken charge of the pigeons in the dusty, dark coop that housed the birds.The old master was in a cart, the ground, or a pyre somewhere.The important thing was that this one knew which birds would fly to ’Ban.
