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Meg looked over the garden and smiled, the freshly turned earth showing just how much she had completed once Brent had allowed her back outside again. She stretched her arms above her head and then winced as she moved onto her knees, squeezing her hand around the cane and trying to use it to lever herself up.
“Do you need a hand?” a young soldier asked.
“Please,” she said.
He held his hand out and as she took it, he put a hand under her elbow to lift her to her feet.
“Can I walk you back inside?” he asked.
Meg shook her head. “Kiam said I am to try to stand more often.” She stretched and took a couple of slow steps. She was sore but not like she had been before. She rolled her shoulders again and looked across the garden.
“You are making progress,” the young man offered.
She nodded. “Would you help me move the canvas?” she asked. “I want to move to that section.” She pointed to the next part of the garden.
He nodded and lifted the cloth from the ground. As she stepped back, he shook it out before placing it further along the path. “Here?” he asked.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Would you like a hand back down?”
She looked at the canvas and then shook her head. “I’m not sure I’m ready just yet,” she said.
“Can I be of assistance?”
She looked him over carefully, “You could walk me around a little, just to stretch me out before I sit again.”
He smiled as he offered her his arm. “Where do we walk?”
“Not far,” she said.
They walked back around to the front of the Keep, Meg still slow and limping, and she was surprised at how few men she could see. “Where is everyone?”
“There is always something to be doing.”
She nodded, but an uneasiness gripped her that there were so few about. She had felt so crowded and so closely watched for so long it was unnerving. “Maybe we should head back to the garden,” she suggested. “Cook will think I am skiving off.”
He laughed then as they slowly turned back for the garden. She knew all of these men, but there were some she was just more comfortable with. The young scullery maid was out by the canvas when she returned.
“Are you well, Your Highness?” she asked.
“I needed a short walk,” Meg said, stepping away from the young soldier and towards the girl.
“Do you need me?” he asked behind her.
“No thank you,” Meg said, lowering herself down to the mat, thankful for the sturdiness of the cane. “What do you think?” she asked the girl.
“It is a shame that you have pulled all the herbs and left the weeds.”
Meg blanched, looking over the work she had done and back to the grinning face of the girl.
“You jest,” she said.
“Yes, Your Highness.” She giggled. “I am sorry, but it is so easy to do.”
“You shouldn’t joke so, because I may very well be doing just that.”
“No, you know what you do now. What shall we find for you to do once you are finished?”
“Cutting vegetables,” Meg suggested.
“I’m not sure cook is ready to let you in the kitchen,” she said.
“I think the garden will keep me going for some time. I can see the weeds waving at me from where I started.”
The girl giggled again and then she was gone. Meg watched after her for a while before looking back over the garden. It was air and exercise, and it was much better than being trapped in the front room by the fire. Did she want to spend the rest of her days gardening?
She reached out slowly and pulled at a weed, dropping it by her side. It suddenly didn’t seem as appealing anymore. She was restless despite the pleasant warmth of the sun. She wondered where the men had all gone. Sent out to be useful, she thought. They had started to seem fidgety too.
She lay back slowly and closed her eyes, enjoying the warm sun on her face. She would have a lifetime to complete the garden. Slowly working around and around its border. The men needed to be useful, but so did she. And she had no use here at all; in fact she had caused more trouble since they arrived than she had ever experienced in Rocfeld.
Meg opened her eyes to Raf and Brent standing over her. Both of them looked quite concerned, but they stood still. She blinked into the light and then raised herself up slowly. The three of them stared at each other for a time and then Meg stretched her arms in front of her, put a hand to her hot cheek and in the face of the two men towering over her, she sighed.
“Are you...?” Brent started, but she held up her hand.
“You’re sunburnt,” Kiam scolded, appearing from behind her.
She nodded, but what could she say? Again, disappointment washed over her that she was causing more work for these men, and she longed for Rocfeld.
“I have something that could help,” Kiam offered in a gentle voice, and she turned to him quickly.
“Not the duck stuff?” she asked.
He smiled as he shook his head. “Come on,” he said, motioning for her to stand.
For the second time, she found herself uncomfortably on her knees. The ground pushed against her shin and knee as though it were a thousand knives. But before she could fully suck in her breath, strong arms were around her waist and she was up on her feet. She looked up into Raf’s serious face and nodded. His hands still lingered at her waist, and Commander Brent coughed.
“I want to be sure you can stand,” he said.
When she nodded again, he released his hold.
“Thank you,” she said, trying to bite back the frustration, knowing that they did this for the right reasons.
“Face,” Kiam said softly, his arm outstretched for her to take. They walked slowly back into the Keep and as she sat in the chair by the window, she realised that Raf and Brent had followed them into the room.
“You are pink,” Raf offered carefully.
“I dozed off,” she murmured.
The three of them looked over her again.
“I was enjoying the sun and I didn’t want to work anymore,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to think, and then I must have slept.”
Raf and Brent glanced at each other. Kiam handed her a damp cloth and she held it to her face as he indicated, the relief immediate. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sweet smell of the material to her skin. Another of his magic creams, she thought, but she couldn’t speak now. They looked at each other like she had lost her mind. Perhaps they didn’t think she had full control of it yet. Maybe she didn’t. Her leg still ached, and she was starting to come to terms with the idea that she would never be able to live without pain or move as she once had. There were times that the idea of that seemed harder than being sent so far away from everyone that loved them. But then they had the men.
A fuzzy memory of the soothsayer became suddenly clear, that the men close to her would be important... The words faded before she could fully grasp them. They were important. They were friends, she thought, except when they looked at her like she was a child who did not know her mind.
“Your Highness,” Kiam said softly, and she opened her eyes to see him squatting down in front of her, his hand on her good knee. She put her hand over his and patted it.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Maybe you should sleep.”
“Perhaps,” she murmured. “I’ll do whatever you think is best.” She couldn’t look at him though. Crippled and now to be treated like this forever. Meg’s whole world slipped further away and her heart hammered in her chest.
“The garden was supposed to help,” Brent muttered.
She nodded, her eyes still down. She didn’t trust herself not to get angry with him or upset with herself, or they would think she was lost.
“I think it has been,” Raf said slowly.
She nodded again.
“Meg, we worry,” Brent said slowly and again she simply nodded. “You are upset,” he said.
She shook her head, although she was.
“I’ll leave you to talk,” Raf said, and she heard him leave.
“Let me look,” Kiam said slowly, taking her hand that held the cloth to her face. She allowed him to pull it back from her face, but she instantly missed it. “OK,” he said, and put it back. “I would prefer that you were resting.”
“I have rested,” she said.
She heard Brent sigh.
“Fine,” she said, trying to keep the anger from her voice. “I will sleep.”
“There is more to getting better than just sitting around,” Kiam said.
“But I’m not getting better,” she whispered. “Nor will I.”
“Of course you will,” he said, standing up. But when she looked up, she caught the look that passed between them. She sighed and looked at him pointedly.
“You will,” he said. “It just takes time.”
“Then I shall sleep the time away,” she said, using the cane to slowly stand and holding out the cloth to him.
“Take it with you.”
She nodded, pushed it back against her face and hobbled from the room. She paused for some time at the base of the stairs. Leaning her shoulder into the rough grey stone, she tried to gather the energy to work her way to the top.
“How long until you ask for help?” Brent asked behind her.
“I can’t get up the stairs,” she said. “Will you help me, please?”
He stepped forward. “That wasn’t hard,” he said, holding out his arm for her, but she shook her head.
“Harder every time,” she said. “Worse when an arm is not enough.”
His face hardened then. “I should not have left you alone with the garden.”
“It is not the garden’s fault,” she snapped. “It is the leg. This painful pest of a leg.”
He carefully lifted her into his arms and held her close across his chest. “It will heal,” he said.
“Up the stairs,” she snapped, pointing the way with her cane.
He moved slowly up into the darkened level above, moving carefully so as not to knock her against the stone walls. “You are not as patient as I thought you were,” he said as they climbed.
“Really?” she asked and then sighed. Who had she become? “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“I’ve seen it before,” he said. “Only watching you grow up, I thought you more able to do as you were told until you were well enough to do as you wanted.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. It was only as he sat her gently down on the bed that she said, “I have never been able to do as I wanted, only what was required of me or what others wanted.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” he said, standing back.
“Then you have less understanding of how our world works than I gave you credit for. If I was able to do as I wished, I wouldn’t be locked up here.”
“Maybe not,” he said, bowing low and backing up to the door.
“What of my shoes?” she asked, holding out a foot.
“I know enough of the world to find the right person to help you, Your Highness.” He pulled the door shut and she was left in the dimly lit room alone.
She pulled the cloth from her face and gently touched the skin with her fingertips. Now she was upsetting the few friends she did have. Maybe they were right that she had lost her mind or was losing it. It was hard enough that they didn’t trust her, but now she didn’t trust herself.
The door opened a little.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to the door, but it was Lora creeping in.
“How can I help?” she asked.
“Can you help me undress? I need to sleep.”
The girl was quick and careful to take her boots and then unlace her dress. “Are you able to stand, or should I send for help?”
“I can’t face them again,” she said. She slipped forward and held onto the post of the bed as Lora worked the dress down as quickly as possible. But as she put the weight on her leg to lift the other out of the skirts, she called out and gripped the post.
“Highness,” the girl whispered.
Meg shook her head despite the tears and sat back onto the bed. She pulled herself up and under the covers quickly as the pain shot down her leg. She could hear the boots running towards her door and she squeezed her eyes shut. “When will this stop?” she muttered, then realised she had said it out aloud.
She pulled the covers up, closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing but the gods in the Temple back in Rocfeld. She heard the door click but wasn’t sure who had come or who had gone. She remained still, silently asking the gods for understanding and then instantly regretting her motives. She knew better than to ask for anything. She tried again to focus on their smiling faces in her mind, but they scowled at her and her whole leg throbbed.
When she woke, it was dark. She could hear the men moving around the yard yelling at each other, the room around her silent but for the crackle of the fire. Her hand moved to her face and it felt tight but no longer hot.
“Has it stopped stinging?” Kiam’s voice asked softly from a dark corner by the bed.
She jumped and sat forward, nodding.
“Don’t give up yet.”
She nodded again.
“The leg?”
“Sore.” She sighed.
“I don’t think you should lean on it.”
“You want me to stop my work in the garden?”
“Not if you don’t want to. But you can’t lean on it.”
She nodded. “What do I do? I can’t get up any other way.”
“Maybe we need Raf to stand by and scoop you up.”
She sighed again.
“It isn’t a bother.”
“It is for me. I can’t be a burden, Kiam. I can’t be so delicate that you must all waste your time watching over me in case I need to breathe.”
He laughed. “What do you think we are here for?”
“Not that,” she said.
“But we are here to protect you.”
“From myself, it seems.”
He stood up and sat on the side of the bed. “Not at all.”
“I hate that I am like this.”
“It will pass.”
“Aargh! You keep saying that,” she snapped. “But I feel so dependent; I want to be stronger than that.”
“You are strong,” he said seriously. “I have seen men, weathered soldiers, buckle at less than this.”
She shook her head.
“True,” he said. “No matter how you want to heal, it was bad, Meg, very bad, and we must give it the time it demands.”
She nodded slowly then.
“Now, you must come down for supper.”
She looked towards the door, frustration creeping over her again. And then it opened and Brent stood there, his bulk filling the space. She nodded slowly. He stepped forward and Lora pulled her dress out, and despite who they were, she allowed them to hold her up while she stepped into the silks and support her while Lora laced her in.
Sitting on the stool by the fire, Lora pulled the rough knots from her hair and brushed it out as the two men watched, and then she was quick to tie it up again.
“How easily you become a princess,” Kiam said.
She gave him a small smile and Brent bent over her in the chair to lift her up. She held him tight around the neck as he held her close to his body and moved slowly through the doorway and back down the stairs.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured as he reached the bottom.
“I know,” he said. He sat her at the table in the front room, which was laid out for two, and then he bowed and backed out of the room.
Lora appeared beside her and poured wine into her cup.
“Where is Kellin?” she asked.
Lora looked at the window but didn’t say anything. Meg nodded and waved her off. She sipped at the wine, looked over the food and turned back to the window.
“You forgot your cane,” Kiam said, resting it against the table.
She grabbed at it in frustration and, swinging madly, smacked Kiam on the leg as he stepped back. He groaned and reached for his leg as she dropped the cane and jumped to her feet. Only her leg gave way and she immediately crumpled. Somehow before she fell, Kiam reached out and pulled her close to his chest, his arms tight around her. He took her full weight.
Meg promptly burst into tears, burying her face in his chest and clinging to his leathers.
“I am so sorry,” she sobbed. “I would never hurt you.”
He started to laugh, the sound filling the room and vibrating through his body.
“What is going on?” Brent’s booming voice silenced Kiam’s laughing and her sobbing.
“I’ve just discovered the best exercise for our princess.”
She looked up at the grinning man, his arms still tight around her, and then saw Brent’s dark features.
“Did we pack wooden swords?” he asked.
“Wooden swords?” both Brent and Meg asked at the same time.
“I’m not letting you near a real one. You might take my leg off.”
Meg wiped at her face as Kiam released his hold and lowered her back into the chair.
“What are you talking about?” Brent asked, his arms tight across his chest, the anger clear on his face.
“I’ve been trying to treat her like a princess.”
“She is a princess,” Brent said, his voice still too loud, and Meg looked between them.
“I need to get her moving like a soldier,” Kiam said, the excitement brightening his features, and Meg smiled at his enthusiasm.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, feeling a little more like herself again.
“I am going to get you exercising in the yard, with the men, with a sword.”
She wasn’t expecting that, and then Brent put himself between them. “You can’t do that,” he said.
“Do you think it will work?” Meg asked, and Brent turned and looked down at her seriously.
“Yes,” Kiam said, grinning again.
Meg looked down at the cane lying on the floor, and Kiam rubbed again at his leg. She looked up into Brent’s concerned face and then to Kiam, still grinning.
She nodded once.
“We’ll start tomorrow,” Kiam said, leaving the room.
“Are you sure?” Brent asked, sitting slowly at the table.
“No,” she said, glancing down at the cane again. “But Kiam thinks it will work and so I think I need to try.”