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“You do not travel with the others?” Kellin asked as Kiam poked his head around the door into the front room.
“Commander Brent feels I am of more use here.”
“What do they search for?” she asked, moving aside and making a space for him before the fire.
He shrugged as he sat down. “Any sign of trouble really. The commanders worry that we have been too complacent.”
“Too much time with ladies.” She smiled.
He nodded and looked seriously into the flames. “But I am glad we were here with you, to be of assistance for Princess Meg.”
Kellin was pleased Kiam had been amongst the group to travel with them as well. Though she had been uncertain of him to begin with, his playful nature had grown on her and he seemed to understand the need to be serious when required. “Will she come right?” she asked.
He was still and silent beside her. She opened her mouth to ask again, but his face was more than serious—it was sad. She chewed her lip and turned back to the flames. What would she do without Meg?
“We do all we can,” he said softly.
“But is it enough?” she asked, more desperately than she meant to.
“I hope so, Your Highness. I have seen far worse and given many a man up for dead who has surprised me with his recovery. Your sister is strong and determined, and I fear it is the pain that has caused such a change in her. I do my best but I cannot make promises.”
“I understand,” she said.
“I am sure the queen will soon call us back to Rocfeld and then the nurses can assist to restore her to what she was.”
“And if she does not call us back?”
He gave her a small smile and patted her hand, causing her to take a deep breath.
Rainger appeared in the doorway with a nod and Lora followed him in.
“The cook said that the men had caught a deer and were to roast it, Your Highness,” she said.
Kellin nodded, still watching the flames.
“Do you want to eat with the men?” Lora asked.
She shook her head.
“I will arrange something for you,” the girl said and disappeared.
“You must eat,” Rainger said.
“I will, but not with the men.”
“Do not hide yourself away,” Kiam said.
She gave him a small smile. “I wish to be with Meg tonight. Perhaps the smell of food will rouse her somewhat; she rarely eats.”
“I had her eating some broth last night,” Kiam said and a lump rose in her throat. “Remember, I am a nurse,” he whispered, leaning in.
She stood quickly, unsure how to hold her frustrations in, with her back to the room. She heard Kiam stand, his leather creaking, and he moved quickly towards the door. She listened to his light steps climbing the stairs to watch over Meg.
“What would be of assistance?” Rainger asked behind her. “How can I make you more comfortable?”
“It is not possible,” she stated sadly.
“Do you want me to leave you?” he asked.
“No,” she said quickly, finding him just behind her, and she was momentarily taken back to the chapel and his arms around her. “Stay,” she whispered, reaching out for him.
He took a step back and indicated the seat she had just vacated.
“Talk with me,” she said, looking up at him, but his gaze was on the fire rather than her face. She looked down at her hands in her lap. Her skin seemed strangely pale and the family ring, embossed with the silver raven, was loose. The raven stared at her in an unfriendly manner. When had she grown so thin that the ring moved so easily?
Rainger lowered his bulk down beside her as she pulled her skirts out of the way. And then his hand was around hers, his fingers large and strong and his skin tanned and she couldn’t look away, couldn’t raise her eyes to look him in the face. She stared at the hand over hers, making hers appear even smaller and paler, and she pulled it from beneath his to hide her uncertainty. She instantly regretted it.
“You were to talk to me,” she said.
“What would you talk of, Your Highness?” he said softly.
She wished he would use her name. “I do not know. Distract me.”
“Distract you?”
She looked up then at something else in his voice, and she saw an uncertainty cross his face.
“Needlework,” he said with a small smile. “You did not bring it with you?”
“I am sure Cate had it packed, but it bores me so. Tell me what you do when you go out,” she said.
“There is little to tell; we march through the surrounding area, the woods, along the river. There are no farms or towns nearby. Anyone moving through the area would only be bound for here. Yet we see nothing but flowers and trees and deer.”
“I would love to see some flowers,” she said. “I could smell them on our recent walk but could not see them.”
“They grow deeper in the trees. Not an area for you.”
“Why not?” she asked quickly, wondering what else he didn’t want her to know.
“It is not safe. We could not see what is around you.”
“You said there was nothing and no one around. How unsafe could it be?”
“Something pushed your sister, or at least knocked her to the ground in the chapel. There is something out there, and as we are not sure what that is... It is not safe.” His voice became slower and deeper with each word, as though to impress upon her just how unsafe the world was.
Kellin sighed again.
“Eat with us,” he said.
She shook her head.
“The men enjoy your company.”
Kellin raised her eyebrows.
“It is a hint of society,” he said. “Men alone for too long with little to occupy them become difficult. It would not be worth a fight breaking out in the barracks.”
“You think my eating with you will prevent that?”
“Perhaps not,” he said with a shrug, turning back to the fire. “But it would help.”
“Help who?” she asked, longing for his warm hand over hers again.
Above her Meg called out in her sleep, not quite as loudly as she had been, but Kellin looked at the ceiling and stood.
Rainger reached out and took her hand then. “Kiam is with her.”
“It is not the same,” she said. “What place do I have if it is not with Meg?”
“She will not always need you,” he said, standing over her, his hand still wrapped around hers. “One day you will marry and go your separate ways.”
“Not here,” Kellin whispered.
“You cannot marry here?” he asked.
“I do not wish to talk of it here. My sister does as she thinks best for the kingdom; I will have no say in that. Meg wishes to do her duty. But I do not know what my duty is, and it may be that Elalia still considers the Brotherhood for me.”
He shook his head.
“What do you know of Elalia’s plans?” she asked, her voice harsher than she intended, and he let her go.
He opened his mouth, but Meg called out again above them. “Would you like to go to her?” he asked.
But Kellin shook her head. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. She had once overheard Lady Scott refer to her as fickle. She had been quite cross at the time, not that she had given Lady Scott any indication that she had heard her. But the woman had been right, Kellin realised as she sat slowly and stared into the flames. It was all she could do; it was all she did. Her mind whirred away, leaning one way and then another. Sure of what she wanted, then sure she wanted something else.
“Kellin,” he whispered softly as he sat beside her again, his hands on his knees. “What do you need?”
She shook her head. She didn’t know. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t tell him; she really didn’t know what she wanted, other than to be far away from this wretched place and for Meg to be whole again.
“Will you eat with us?” he asked again.
She couldn’t even make that decision. She was about to shake her head, but she wanted to say yes, to hide amongst the bulk of them in the yard, huddle around the fire pots, listen to them sing. But then she didn’t want to put on a smile for them, and although Meg didn’t need her, she wanted to be of use.
She was useless. No wonder her father had wanted nothing more for her than the Brotherhood. The hot tears that hit her hand surprised her.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know that either,” she said sharply
He stood slowly and she missed his presence immediately. “You know where we are if you decide,” he said softly.
When she looked up he had backed out of the room, and she used the back of her hand to wipe gently across her cheek. She knew she wanted more from him, but then she knew she wouldn’t be able to have it, that she shouldn’t want it. Suddenly life as a Sister seemed like a reasonable way to spend her life rather than sitting before the fire, dreaming of a soldier she could never have.
Brother Erasmus stood before the gods and listened to the slow movement of people in and out of the Temple. Some spoke to him and some nodded as they passed, but he remained still, watching the statues before him as they watched the people praying before them.
Erasmus could feel the uncertainty on the air. He had felt something unnatural in the solar, in the heat of the room. He shook his head slowly. He was mistaken—he had to be.
He sighed and squeezed his eyes closed then. Trying to understand in the darkness behind his lids why his gods had not told him what was behind his fears. He looked up into their serious faces and he nodded slowly. There was a reason, a good reason he was sure, but he didn’t understand it. “And I know better than to ask,” he mumbled, stepping forward and rubbing his hands across Kion’s feet.
“I thought, Brother, that you already knew all the answers and so would ask for nothing.”
He smiled into the face of the young man standing beside him, who then stepped back to allow him to finish the ritual before stepping forward and completing it himself. “Sire, so nice to see you again.”
Brodwyn’s face burned red and he glanced around.
“I was expecting you,” Erasmus said softly, “and I would not expose you.”
The prince nodded once in return.
“Pray, and then we will tell you what we can of what you have come all this way to learn. Which is very little.”
He watched the young man find a place amongst the people, drop to his knees and lower his head in prayer. Meg would do well with him, Erasmus was sure. He only hoped Elalia’s troublemaking could be undone.
Erasmus watched the people praying and then moved slowly through the crowd to the back of the Temple to study his gods at a distance. Their faces remained stern and serious.
“They should not have been sent away,” he whispered. He worried far more than he thought he should, but there was something about them being at the old estate that unnerved him so. He looked up as a breeze blew gently across his skin to find Air smiling—just a little, but it was a smile—and he felt a weight lift from his chest. Surely they watched over the princesses. He knew they did; he didn’t need to ask them. But he felt more comfortable knowing that they were watched and loved.
He hoped the soldiers would do all that was required as well. Commander Brent knew what he did, but the idea of so many men and so few ladies was one of his concerns. Even if nothing untoward happened while they were away, the idea that it may have would follow them. He sighed as he watched the young prince stand slowly and move towards the gods to rub his hands across their feet.
Even if they could get the match reinstated, she may be considered tainted purely by circumstance alone. He was sure then that Kion nodded and Erasmus nodded in return. She would be stronger for this journey, but it wasn’t going to be easy for her.
“Brother, is it true?”
Brother Erasmus took in the young man before him, younger than he remembered. And he found himself looking around him for someone of more suitability to discuss this with. He shook his head to dispel the thought and motioned for the prince to follow him.
“Did you bring the advisors with you?” he asked, indicating a seat at the table in his study.
“Do you want to wait for them?” Brodwyn asked, and Erasmus regretted the question.
“There is little I can tell you.”
“But you must know something. They are not here, are they?”
Brother Erasmus shook his head again.
“Were they sent away? Hidden away?”
“Queen Elalia feared they were in danger,” he said, and as Brodwyn raised his eyebrows, he added, “The royal commander did not agree and thought if there was a threat, they could be protected here.”
“Did she think Tands was the threat?”
“That wasn’t clear.”
“So, where are they?” he asked, the desperation clear in his voice.
“Somewhere safe.”
“Where could be safer than Rocfeld?”
“I see what you do,” Brother Erasmus said. “But I cannot tell you. You cannot go off in the hope of finding them; you would only show that the queen was right.”
Brodwyn sighed and looked down at the table.
“They will come back,” Brother Erasmus said.
“Are you sure?”
“Reasonably,” he said, motioning into the dark shadows. A Sister stepped forward with a small tray, two goblets and a pitcher of wine.
“Alva has agreed that we can wait for their return.”
Brother Erasmus nodded as he lifted his goblet to the prince and then downed it in one gulp. The young man raised his eyebrows and Erasmus filled it again. He hoped he had interpreted correctly, that they wouldn’t be away for long. He needed to pray some more. Although he felt calmer than he had earlier, a small fear still niggled at his heart.
“I think that would be a good idea. Meg will be pleased to see you.”
“If the queen allows us to stay and gives us the opportunity to talk trade and politics,” he said quickly, gulping from his own goblet. “Would Meg really be happy to see me?”
Erasmus smiled at the young man and stood to pour more wine into his cup. “She seemed quite taken with you,” he admitted, sitting down again. “How is your father? Was he angry at your attendance here?”
Brodwyn shrugged and stared into his cup. The confidence slipped, and Erasmus regretted bringing pain to the young man.
“He didn’t say,” he said. He stood slowly and gave Erasmus another bow. “I should leave you,” he murmured.
“Nonsense. I miss sensible conversation. Sit, stay, talk to an old man.”
Brodwyn smiled then and sat back down. “How old are you?” he asked slowly, and as Erasmus looked up sharply, he started to laugh.
“Old enough,” he said.
Chapter 8
––––––––
“I think given your more peaceful sleep,” Kiam said softly, “you could come downstairs in the morning.”
Meg clapped with excitement and Kellin found herself breathing more easily.
“Does your head still hurt?” Kellin asked.
“Not as much,” Meg said.
As Meg chewed at her lip, Kellin wondered if she was as well as she claimed.
“How will she get down the stairs?” she asked.
“One of us will carry her down. It will be some time before the leg can support her fully, despite the splints.”
“I am still in the room,” Meg said. Kellin reached out to take her hand, but Meg pulled it out of her reach. “Is it not time for your walk?”
Kellin stood slowly. “I can stay with you if you prefer.”
Meg shook her head and leaned back into the pillows. Kellin looked at Kiam for an idea of how well her sister truly was, but he gave her a small smile and indicated that she leave.
Kellin took a deep breath. “You need your rest,” she offered quietly.
It had almost become habit in the afternoon for Rainger to walk with her by the river—most days, yet not every. She tried to tell herself that she should not rely on him to keep her occupied, but as she stood by the window waiting for him to cross the yard, she couldn’t help but smile.
The quiet knock at the door startled her and she turned from the window, wondering how she had missed him, when Kiam rather than Rainger entered the room.
“She will be well,” he said, moving straight to the fire. “I know it seems hard to take, but her head aches less and she sleeps better. I am sure that once we get her moving around a little more, she will mend quickly.”
Kellin nodded, but she was thinking of where Rainger could be.
“It will not be too difficult to get her down the stairs. She still cannot support the weight, but I think one of the commanders will carry her down.”
She turned to him seriously. “Rainger?”
“Or Commander Brent. I am probably not the best one to carry a princess.”
She smiled at him then. “We are just like anyone else,” she said, turning back to the window. “Just two girls really.”
“Hardly,” he said, and when she looked back, he blushed. “Would you like me to escort you on your walk this afternoon?” he asked.
Kellin paused and pulled at the cape already around her shoulders.
“I know you and the commander talk as you walk, but with him away again, perhaps I could find something to keep you occupied.”
She didn’t know. “Away?”
“He wanted to take another look through the woods,” he said. “He took a group out early this morning.”
She nodded slowly but wondered why he had not said. Yet did he need to tell her what he did?
“I shall try to talk of something light and appropriate,” Kiam offered.
She nodded and moved towards the door, and he followed. But when she took his arm as they hit the gravel beyond the front door, she found it harder to breathe than she should have.
“Do you miss your friends at Rocfeld?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Meggie will be better soon, and the two of you can...” He looked down at her and blushed again. “Forgive me, Your Highness, I fear I forget myself sometimes. Princess Megora will be well and you can talk all day long, or walk, or practice your needlework or the like.” He blushed again and she smiled.
“Thank you,” she said, and they started to walk towards the river.
“Do you sing?” he asked.
“Not well,” she admitted. “Meg was always quite good, but there is little opportunity for such diversion out here.”
“You have listened to the men singing after some ale,” he said. “Perhaps you could join us.”
She laughed then.
“It must be lonely,” he continued.
“Sometimes,” she said, watching the water.
“We quite enjoy your company,” he said. “I suppose it is not really what princesses should do, eat with the soldiers. But it is different here.”
“Yes, it is,” she said. “And I enjoy your company too.”
“Still, not the same,” he said. “Soldiers are still soldiers and princesses are still princesses.”
She looked at him seriously, but he was focused out on the water. “Unless the soldier is a nurse,” she said.
“Yes,” he said, smiling at her. “Then it is different.”
They turned towards the trees and she wondered how long until Rainger returned.
“Where to, Princess?”
“I would like to visit the chapel,” she said. “Meg always found such peace in the Temple.”
“Do you search for peace?” he asked, and as she looked up at him, he bit his lip. “Sorry, forgot myself again.”
“I don’t mind, Kiam. I search for something, but I do not know if I will ever find it.”
He smiled down at her and they walked in silence towards the chapel.
It was still clear and bright and clean, and again Kellin found herself wondering just what it was that Meg had seen that night. She stepped forward with confidence to the base of the gods and ran her hands over the smooth worn stone of their feet. Then, stepping back, she dropped to her knees and closed her eyes.
She could hear Kiam walking around the space, and when he paused between her and the gods, she wondered if he ran his hand over their feet or the spot still marked by Meg’s blood.
Could she have blasphemed so by climbing up onto the platform? Kellin shook her head, trying to focus only on the gods, sure that Meg would never behave so in such a place. She knew how to behave; she loved the gods and knelt before them every morning. Always so faithful.
Kiam continued to walk around the space, his boots scratching upon the flagstones, his leather creaking as he moved. She opened her eyes to study him as he paced between her and the gods, and then he stopped and looked at her. “I am sorry, Your Highness. I feel somewhat unsettled.”
“So it seems,” she said. “Do you wish to wait outside?”
He shook his head, then moved over and knelt beside her. He sighed and closed his eyes, and Kellin closed hers again. But now she could only think of Kiam, and wondered what he had seen that unsettled him so. Would she be able to ask him? He was a good man. That was something. Of all the men they could have been trapped with, Rainger and Brent had brought good men with them, and she did enjoy their company. She wondered if such companionship could continue when they returned to Rocfeld. If they ever returned.
It took some time before she could focus on the gods and start her prayers, offering them thanks for what she did have and that Meg had survived whatever had occurred in the chapel.
When she opened her eyes to stand, Kiam stood again at their feet, his head bent, and she wondered that she had not heard him when he stood from prayer.
“When Meg is better, she would like to visit here again,” she said softly.
He nodded without turning around, and Kellin stepped forward to rub her hands over the feet. She noticed his hand upon the red stain on the stone. He looked up into the smiling faces of the gods and back. But when he turned to Kellin, he wore a smile. “Do you wish to return to the Keep?” he asked.
She nodded. She had enjoyed her time with Kiam but she longed for a sign of Rainger.
“I am sure they are not far away,” he said softly as they climbed the hill.
She looked up at him and slipped on the grass. He put a strong hand under her elbow and helped her keep her feet.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“Would you like to take a breath before we continue?”
“I am well,” she said.
“You don’t look it.”
“It was a slip,” she said sharply, pulling her arm from his grip and nearly losing her balance again. He put out his hand, but she held hers up.
They walked in silence back to the Keep.
“Should I send the commander to you?” he asked at the door.
She froze, staring into his face.
“Commander Brent,” he said slowly. “Rainger won’t be back until the morrow.”
She nodded slowly and turned back to the door.
“Your Highness,” he said formally to her back.
“Thank you, Kiam,” she said without turning, then walked quickly into the front room and leaned on the back of the chair before the fire. She was still standing in the same position staring into the flames when Brent entered the room.
“Are you well?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Meg?”
“Princess Meg is fine,” she said, then looked up to the ceiling. “As well as she could be.” She sighed and moved around to sit in the chair.
“Do you want for anything?”
“Just some quiet,” she murmured, and then regretted her words as he bowed stiffly and retreated, and she was left alone.
“Tell me of the chapel?” Meg asked the next morning when she had been carried down to sit before the fire, and Kellin turned to her from the window.
“What is to tell?”
“Did you hear anything? See anyone?” she asked, her voice more urgent than she wanted it to be, and she carefully lifted her strapped leg from the stool and stood up.
Kellin met her across the floor. “You should rest.”
“I am tired of resting,” she snapped.
“There was no one there. I heard nothing but the wind whispering over the ground.”
“Whispering?” Meg asked. “And the gods, how do we fix the gods?”
“Hush,” Kellin said softly, “There is nothing to fix. We have no power over the gods; their image is perfect and pure.”
“But Kion’s face,” Meg said, gripping her sister’s hand. “It was broken.”
Kellin shook her head. “He smiled down on me,” she said.
“Princesses.” Kiam bowed in the doorway. “Might I intrude upon your time to check my patient?”
“Kiam.” Meg beamed. “Take me to the chapel.”
“Your Highness?” he stammered. “I do not think you are well enough for that, nor is it wise.”
She pulled herself away from Kellin to stand on her own. “You dare tell me what is wise,” she hissed, and the smile slipped from his face. He looked to Kellin.
“I think he means to say that it is too far for your leg. Wait until you are healed.”
“No,” she said, stepping carefully forward. She grabbed the back of a chair and took a deep breath. “I go whether you help or not.”
“There is nothing to see,” Kellin said. “You hit your head; your memory is confused.”
She shook her head. Kiam stepped forward to offer her a hand and she leaned into him heavily. He lifted her arm around his shoulder and with a hand around her waist, he directed her towards the door.
As they hit the sunshine, the noise around them stopped. “I think this is a bad idea,” Kiam warned.
She pushed at him and stumbled, falling into Commander Brent’s arms. “I want to go to the chapel,” she mumbled, fighting back tears as her leg started to burn. “Please. The chapel.”
He nodded and lifted her into his arms, holding her securely against his body.
“Please,” she begged again.
“We are going,” he said, and carried her slowly down the hill. She could hear Kellin and Kiam whispering behind them.
It was difficult to move into the chapel with her leg sticking out straight and in the arms of the commander, but he managed to get her through the door. Once inside, she pushed against him and grabbed at Kellin. Stumbling forward, she rested her hands on the feet of the gods and looked up into their faces. They smiled down at her and she rubbed her hands across the cool, smooth stone.
“How?” she asked.
“How what?” Kellin asked, standing beside her.
“How were they fixed?”
“They were not broken,” Kellin said, shaking her head.
“Maybe it was the light,” Brent said behind her, and she looked at him. “In the candle light,” he said softly, “shadows play tricks.”
“What did you see?” she asked sharply.
He shook his head. “I was not looking,” he said. “It was dark and...” He looked beyond her at Kion’s face. “It was the light,” he said again. Meg reached towards the slender, outstretched fingers of Kira, where so many had been missing before.
“No!” Kellin cried as she neared the stone. “You must not touch her.”
Meg pulled her fingers back and looked down at their feet. The red stain marked the platform where her leg had scraped against it. “Blasphemy,” she whispered. “Blasphemy.”
“It is well,” Kellin said, putting a hand on her back. “You did not touch her.”
“I am worthy only to touch her feet,” she murmured.
“It is your head,” Kellin said sadly, and Meg studied her. “You hit your head,” she said again.
Meg nodded and leaned forward awkwardly to kiss the feet of the Kira and then Kion, Kion and Kira.
Kellin held her hand tightly and Brent lifted her into his arms. Kiam followed silently behind. When they hit the light, Rainger’s figure stood at the top of the hill beside the Keep, making the building look even smaller than it was.
The journey back up the hill was slow, and Meg leaned into the commander’s shoulder. Every step jolted through her, and she bit down on her lip to prevent a groan escaping. Every time she blinked, she saw the gods as they were that day, broken and sad.
She sucked in a deep breath when her leg skimmed the rough stone wall as they headed up the stairs. She wanted to complain, make a fuss that she wasn’t being sat before the fire in the front room, but she longed for the comfort of her bed.
Brent carefully placed her onto the bed, and while Kiam readied the silk and ointment, her maid assisted with the bedding.
Meg looked at Kiam carefully. “Kiam,” she said, feeling relief at seeing him. “I have not seen you in so long. Where have you been?”
“Chasing ducks, Princess.” He grinned at her. But she started to cry.
“It is well,” Lora offered. “We do not find him funny either.”
Kellin choked down a sob and raced from the room. She burst through her door and leaned over the bed, then jumped as the door closed behind her. She looked up at Rainger’s broad frame, standing to attention, keeping her safe, and she cried all the more then, sliding to the floor.
“Do not cry, Kellin,” he whispered, “for it breaks my heart.”
She shook her head. “I cannot do this without her,” she said. “I cannot stay out here forever with Meg not Meg.”
“She will heal,” he said softly. “The queen will change her mind and send for you.”
“Your queen,” she spat, turning away from him. “You are her man; you do her bidding.”
“I do my duty,” he said.
“Her duty, her words, her orders. Keeping me alone and away with no one to watch me, or teach me, or love me, or tell me what is right.” She sobbed into her knees as she tucked them under her chin. “She is not right,” she murmured. “She is not well.”
“I love you,” he whispered. “I will keep you safe and watch you sleep.”
She looked up at him slowly and wiped roughly at her face.
“Who will watch for Meg when she becomes confused or angry?” she asked as a large tear rolled down her cheek. “Meg is the one that watches over all of us—she always has—and now there is no one to watch over her.”
“You will watch her,” he said, squatting beside her. He wiped away the tear and brushed her hair from her face, his rough fingertips lightly sweeping over the skin. “You love her like no one can; you will be her support until she is well.”
Kellin nodded slowly, his large brown eyes watching her closely. She gave a small smile. And he sat back. Kellin sat up as Meg called out in pain in the other room.
“Kiam knows what he does,” he said, his face stern. “He has healed many wounds much worse than this.”
She wondered how his face could change so suddenly, soft to hard, open to closed, and she ran her fingers over his cheek. He held her hand to his face for a moment, then let her go and stood up. He gave a nod and she sighed. She pulled her knees back up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them.
“You can help,” he said softly.
She shook her head.
“You can,” he said again.
She hid her face in her dress and clutched at the material to block from her mind the image of her sister’s leg and the screams that came from the neighbouring room. “I should not have gone to the chapel,” she said. “I should not have gone.”
And then his strong arms closed around her and she leant into his chest, breathed in the masculine scent of him, and as she placed her hand on the chest plate, he let her go and stood back by the door.
“Oh, by the gods,” she yelled. “Make up your mind, man.” Then she covered her hand with her mouth.
He tried to hide the grin, but she saw it. “I know my place,” he said, looking at the floor. “I know a princess and a soldier can never be.”
“If I find a princess,” she said quietly, “I shall let her know that you are focused on your duty.”
“Thank you,” he said.
She sighed and stood slowly as another scream echoed through the walls. She squeezed her eyes shut but the tear escaped. “I should not have gone to the chapel,” she whispered. “I should not have let her go.”
She looked up at him and he nodded. “It was too much,” he said. She stepped forward so quickly it was almost as though she fell, and she threaded her arms around his waist and sobbed into his chest. He put his arms around her and held her close, allowing her to cry.
Kellin stood pressed against his breastplate and breathed in the metallic scent of it. Strangely calmed by the hardness of the plate, she longed to hear his heart beneath the thickness of it. His arms still tight around her, she knew that if her legs were to give way he would hold her up forever.
How could she ever think that she could look out for Meg? They were trapped out here in the wilderness with nothing but soldiers surrounding them, and Meg would never be the same again.
“She will heal,” he whispered into her hair, as though reading her mind.
“How can you be sure? She has grown steadily worse since the fall.”
“The fall?”
“Whatever it was that happened to her.” She tried to lean back from him, to look into his face and gauge what he was thinking, but his grip remained too tight. “You have found nothing, and she continues to become stranger.”
“It is the pain,” he said. “But it will pass.”
She had at least quieted in the room next door. Kiam knew what he was doing, and Brent watched over them all. “If only Elalia would call us home,” she said. But she squeezed him tighter, thankful he was close, thankful that he wouldn’t leave her.
“It is not for the queen that I watch you,” he whispered.
She bit her lip, suddenly aware of the heat of his arms through the fabric of her dress as though it was his skin pressed against hers. “You said you love me,” she whispered.
He very gently kissed the top of her head.
“Why did you leave?” she asked. “Why volunteer for time away?”
“It is what I am required to do. I am still a soldier, and I’m sure I put you in more danger by staying close.”
As his arms loosened around her, she clung tighter to him. “Don’t leave me,” she said. “Please.”
“I won’t,” he said, gently taking her shoulders and leaning down to look into her eyes.
“I am not safe with you gone,” she said.
“You are safe here.”
“Because you are here.”
“I cannot keep you safe,” he said.
“But you do.”
He gave her a small smile and then stood to attention.
“Talk to me,” she said.
He shook his head, his eyes ahead as though he focused on trying to maintain his control and what he had been before, but Kellin didn’t want it to be as before. She stepped back as confusion and frustration coursed through her again. “Send for someone else then,” she snapped.
The hurt flashed across his eyes and she instantly regretted her anger. But before she could apologise, there was a knock on the door. “Princess Kellin,” Brent called through the door.
She reached around Rainger and opened it a little.
“I wanted to let you know that your sister is resting,” he said softly.
“Thank you,” she said, “for all of your assistance.”
“Kiam and Lora will watch over her so that you can rest.”
She nodded and he gave a shallow bow, and she closed the door.
“Princesses and soldiers,” she muttered. “Not what we were. Kiam said that things are different here. Are they?” she asked the silent man behind the door.
He shrugged. “I am sure that some things may never change,” he said. “Is it so different here that we do not know what we are?”
“I do not know what I am,” she said climbing up onto her bed. “Not what I should do or how I should act. I know my friends and I know my feelings, but little else.”
He sighed and clenched his fists, and Kellin had the strange feeling that she had lost something, but she wasn’t sure what it was.
Cate quietly entered the room. “Do you need anything, Your Highness?”
She shook her head. The maid curtsied, glanced at Rainger and then left.
Kellin found herself sighing then. It was all too difficult and too much. Would it have been easier if she had remained at Rocfeld, if she had been moved into the Brotherhood to pray and worship and do the bidding of the Brothers? What if Elalia chose instead to marry her off, like Meg, for the good of the kingdom, and what if Meg never recovered? Would Kellin be sent to Tands in her place? Or Luana, as Meg feared?
“What is it?” Rainger asked, and she looked up at him standing over her.
She shook her head.
“Please talk to me,” he said.
She shook her head again, focused on his chest rather than the strange thoughts racing through her head. “Is it heavy?” she asked, reaching out and tapping her knuckles against the plate on his chest, the faint carving of a raven on the bright silver. “Must you wear it all the time?”
He nodded but pulled at the cords and she watched in wonder as he lifted it over his head and held it out for her. She knocked upon it and then reached out to take it. Despite his still holding it, she was surprised by its weight.
“It keeps me safe,” he said. He took the weight of it to put it back on, but she stood and put her hand on his chest.
“Leave it,” she said.
“I am just a man without it.”
“Never just a man.” She reached her hands up and around his neck and he lifted her up, large hands strong beneath her arms, and she was face to face with him. His honey-brown eyes even more startling up close. She couldn’t seem to take in enough of him, and she pulled herself closer.
Without hesitation, she pressed her lips against his, and although he maintained his hold he was unmoving. As she pulled back, she mumbled, “I’m sorry.” She pushed a little at his chest to indicate he put her down. “I thought more than I should have,” she said, her voice cracking.
And then he held her close and kissed her softly.
She pulled back then, trying to take a deep breath, but couldn’t seem to get enough air to fill her lungs. He reached forward but she leaned back further. “You feel sorry for me,” she said.
He looked at her seriously, his eyebrows drawn together. “You tease, Princess,” he said softly, putting her down, her body sliding down the front of his. “You call me fickle and yet I think it is you who does not know what you want.” He stepped back from her. “I think I should let you rest.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He was right; she had no idea what she was doing. “I am sorry,” she whispered.
He took her arm and guided her towards the bed, then surprised her by lifting her up and onto it. She sat still, her eyes on her hands as he knelt before her and unlaced a boot, his hand warm on her leg as he slipped it off. Her breath caught but she couldn’t look at him. Her face burnt from the embarrassment of what she had done and what he must think, and she was sure that when he left the room he would not be standing outside her door. He would send someone else, Raf perhaps, or one of the young ones, or worse, someone old and sensible.
She gulped, trying to catch her breath at the idea of being trapped. Meg forever in her bed or yelling in her confusion, and herself trapped in this small room waiting for a call that would never come from Rocfeld.
And then his rough fingertips ran over her cheek, and a thumb over her lips and she leant into his hand. He stooped down, ran his other hand over her throat and then cupped her face in his hands. She could barely breathe as he gently pressed his lips to hers, and as she parted them for him he pushed against her, his weight above her on the bed.
She ran her fingers through his short hair as he kissed her more forcefully, and her hands moved over the strong muscles of his back and gripped the leather. His rough hand moved beneath her skirt and along her leg, and she moaned as his lips moved down over her neck.
He lifted himself up and stared down at her, and she nodded once. He stood up, his legs still pressed between hers at the edge of the bed, untied his leathers and pulled his shirt over his head. She sucked in a breath and ran her fingers over the taut skin, her fingers curling in the sparse hair. “You look just like the plate,” she murmured, her heart beating fast in her chest.
He nodded slowly, and she watched with fascination as his throat bobbed with a loud swallow.
She looked up into amber-brown eyes with raised eyebrows and a crooked smile. “Will you still watch over me?” she asked.
“Always,” he said as he laid his weight back on top of her and pressed his mouth to hers.