Gwenore’s hand fell away. ‘And marry you off to some farmer while your brother toils in fields owned by families better off than us?’
Isabel rolled her eyes. ‘Or we could return to Maddock House. The region is improving every day.’
‘Not in the way your naive mind thinks.’
Isabel groaned audibly. ‘Do you not ever miss home sometimes?’
Gwenore pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Thisis our home. The place you are mourning no longer exists.’ She looked up, exasperated. ‘It is not the home you miss. It is Ita.’
Her name aloud was too much. ‘It is both.’ The confession came out all quiet.
Gwenore looked around the room, as though searching for an appropriate response, then said, ‘Make sure Margery remainsin her cage. You know how His Lordship feels about her.’ She reached out and touched Isabel’s arms briefly. ‘I shall leave you to get ready for dinner.’
When she went to step past, Isabel said, ‘Did you love him in the end? Lord Tompkin, I mean.’
Gwenore appeared taken aback by the question, then thought for a moment. ‘Yes. Yes, in the end, I did. He was always kind to me and my children. What more could a widow from the wastelands hope for?’
The lord had been smitten with her mother from day one, while Gwenore had been so lost in her grief that she barely noticed. It made Isabel happy to hear that their love had been reciprocal by the end. ‘I shall see you at dinner.’
Gwenore nodded once and made her way to the door.
Isabel’s eyes met Margery’s as it clicked shut. Silence filled the room. ‘There is no escape for me,’ Isabel whispered. She reached for the latch on the cage and opened it. ‘But there is for you.’ Stepping up to the window, she flung open the shutters.
The bird did not move from her perch.
Isabel returned to the cage and offered the eagle her arm. She climbed on. Kissing Margery’s head multiple times, Isabel whispered, ‘Best not to come back this time. Go be free for both of us.’ Walking over to the open window, she thrust her arm through it, giving Margery no choice but to take flight.
She snapped the shutters closed, and pressed her forehead to the cool wood, swallowing repeatedly until the tears subsided.
CHAPTER 2
Ryder Blackmane spat blood on the grass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Looking down at Tatum, who was curled in a ball on the ground half laughing and half coughing, he said, ‘That’s the second time you’ve busted my lip this week.’
‘You told me you wanted a challenge,’ he croaked before coughing up a lung.
Blackmane kicked Tatum’s sword out of reach, then offered his hand. ‘That was supposed to be a dig at you, not an invitation to break my teeth.’ He pulled the defender to his feet.
Tatum doubled over and held on to his knees, breathing deeply in and out. ‘You’re lucky my hours are done for the day or I’d make you pay for that unnecessarily aggressive disarming at the end there.’
Alveye wandered over, brushing grass from his freshly trimmed hair. ‘Why do you two always finish training with bloody teeth and bruises the size of dinner plates?’
Blackmane frowned in his direction. ‘Because we train properly. The better question is why don’tyouever bleed?’
‘He does when I train with him,’ Tatum said, tugging his shirt up and wiping his face with it. ‘Where’s Hadewaye?’
Alveye gestured towards the armoury. ‘He lost, so he packs everything up.’
Tatum held up a hand, stopping Blackmane before he had a chance to speak. ‘Save your breath. It’s not going to happen.’
The three defenders collected the weapons that were strewn about the place, then made their way off the training field, leaving behind the noise of clashing steel and fresh recruits emptying their stomachs. They stopped beneath the Chadorian flags that marked the boundary, their sweat-soaked bodies cooled by the icy wind blowing in from the sea.
‘Ah. Here we go,’ Tatum said, his voice low. ‘Is it weird that I’ve been a defender for five years and I still get nervous when I see the warden approaching?’
The question prompted Blackmane and Alveye to look over their shoulders. There was Shapur Wright marching towards them, framed by the royal castle.
‘Where’s Hadewaye?’ Shapur asked as he came to a stop before the three men.
Alveye straightened. ‘Armoury, sir.’