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Meg’s stomach roiled as the carriage rolled towards Rocfeld. The trees that grew along the road looked different. Could they have grown so much? Or was home no longer home? The sandstone brick of the castle appeared dull and as people stopped to watch them pass, many smiling and waving, she leant back from the window and asked Lora to pull up the shutters. The world that should have been familiar and comfortable appeared strange.
Kellin’s condition was more obvious by the day. As Meg watched her sleep, she realised that she had known long before they left the Keep.
When the carriage door opened, Brent offered his hand to help her down; but although Meg took his hand, she didn’t step out of the carriage. Brother Erasmus, looking serious, nodded just once and motioned her forward.
“Come,” he said kindly.
She sighed, knowing he probably knew far more than they wanted him to, and leant heavily into Brent to make it down the single step to the ground. She waited silently for Kellin to be helped down from the carriage and glanced across at Elalia’s window, wondering if she knew of their return.
“A nurse waits in your rooms,” Brother Erasmus said, stepping forward to take Kellin’s hands in his, and her pale, tearstained face looked up at him. “To ensure no damage was done by the fire,” he added quietly.
Kellin nodded, her movement slow and stiff as a young Sister took her hand, Rainger barely a step behind.
“Commanders,” Brother Erasmus said, his voice clear and loud. “The queen will see you both.” He pointed towards the solar.
Meg, waiting by the old man, watched Rainger turnabout without hesitation and follow Brent towards her sister’s rooms.
“Rest first,” Brother Erasmus said. “We will talk later.”
She nodded once and the two young maids climbed down from the carriage. She took them in her arms and kissed their heads. “Come along,” she said to them, and taking their hands followed Kellin’s path.
When Erasmus entered her room later that evening, she was standing by the window, still wearing the same smoky dress, her hair about her shoulders and her face sooty. He coughed politely and sat at the table. She nodded but did not turn from the window.
“Have you not rested?” he asked, his voice concerned.
“I have not had the chance,” she said. “Kellin is unwell, the two maids quite distressed. I wished to speak to the family of the cook and the scullery maid.” She sighed and moved over to the table, sitting slowly, her leg stiff, and he looked pointedly at it.
“One of the guards was injured in the fire and I wished to check on him also.”
“You cannot care for everyone,” he said.
“I can try,” she shot back, and then looked down at the table. “I am sorry, Brother. It has been a difficult time.”
He nodded. “And your leg, did you have a nurse look at it?”
“It is fine,” she said, waving him off and lifting the cup to her lips. “Kiam and his ointment seemed to do the trick.”
The Brother tipped his head. “I am glad the gods kept you safe,” he said softly.
“If not others,” she said, pushing back from the table.
“You could not save them all,” he said softly.
“I should have tried,” she said too loudly, her voice cracking despite her effort. The image of her nightmares, of the men piled high in death, returned and she couldn’t seem to shake it free. She focused on the fire instead, coughing to clear her throat. “Standing in the gravel in my nightshirt while others fought for them. Fire should not have acted so,” she said, turning from the flames to stare him down.
“What a strange thing to say,” he said. “Would you suggest that Fire would deliberately cause harm?”
She sat again at the table and laid her head down on her arms. “What happened here?” she asked, not wanting to voice her answer aloud. “What has Elalia done while we were away?”
“The civil unrest at the border has only escalated. Soldiers have been sent to keep the peace.”
Meg lifted her head and stared at him.
“Tands is here, child, in the castle, negotiating the next move.”
“Can you not assist, Brother? Can you not ask your Brothers in Tands to assist?”
“We cannot. We must do as instructed by the gods and be guided by the crowns that govern us. We are separate.”
Meg let her head fall back onto her arms.
“You have made good friends,” he said. “Take heart, for you are the daughter of a raven.”
“But what colour?” she mumbled.
“Megora?”
She lifted her head and gave him a small smile. “Tands, fine. I will do my best. Kellin,” she said. “The nurse has confirmed the child. I would ask that you allow the nurse to remove it.” He shook his head and she sat up. “The scandal,” she said. “The damage to Elalia.”
He shook his head again. “The child is ill timed, granted, but it is conceived all the same.”
Meg crossed her arms. “I understand this is a difficult thing,” she said. “But I have heard the nurses have done this before.”
“It is not a matter of ease,” he said, leaning forward, pulling her hands forward and holding them firmly. “The child is important and must be allowed to grow.”
“How will she bear it? The whispers, the stares and such a lowly connection.”
“You underestimate Commander Rainger. He has a pure heart and he will be more than you need him to be.”
Meg looked deep into his old face. “How do you know so much?” she asked. “Who tells?”
“Some things are easy to see for those that look,” he said.
“And those things not so easily seen?” she asked.
“There are those that see what I cannot.”
“You talk in riddles,” she said, laying her head down again.
“What would you ask of me, Megora? To hold Kira’s hand and cry upon a broken face?”
She remained still. She felt the cool and broken stone against her hand and heard the whispers in the dark. Frozen in fright at the blasphemy it would be seen as.
“It is not blasphemy to love the gods,” he whispered. “They love you, little raven, and will hold you when you need them.”
She stood and stretched then, moving back to the fire.
“What of the Silent Mother? Has she returned to the Sanctuary?” She watched the flames rather than the Brother, but she was sure the woman had not travelled far from Elalia.
“I believe so,” he said softly. “You know your mother was fond of the Silent Sisters and even visited with them as a girl.”
Meg nodded once.
“You still think she is not what she appears to be?”
“Tell me of Sythia,” she said quickly, shaking her head.
“Meg,” he said gently, holding out his hand, and she stepped forward and took it, sitting beside him and trying not to sigh. “Why these questions? You are only just returned. Were you alone for so long?”
She looked down at her hand in his. “I fear something is coming,” she said.
“Whatever that fear might be, it is not Sythia. And where has this fear come from?”
She shook her head, wondering if he would believe the soothsayer’s words. Although frightened at the time, she hadn’t fully believed them herself until the Keep had taught her not to doubt. He would never believe the shadow queen she saw in the chapel.
“What would the gods do to punish me?” she asked.
He squeezed her hand. “The gods love you.”
“Do they?” she asked softly, remembering the warmth and comfort in the arms of Water. Then the fear that she had tried to drown her resurfaced.
He nodded and stood slowly from the table, patted her shoulder and headed for the door. “Rest,” he said.
She nodded but he had already gone.
Everyone talks of ravens, she thought. She had grown up understanding that there was one true raven—the black one marked as king or queen. The family was referred to as ravens, but she was white from the start.
She laid her head back on her arm. Water had talked of ravens and had called her a raven. The soothsayer had talked of queens. Maybe there is a chance with Tands, she thought as her eyes struggled to remain open. Tands was here again; maybe Brodwyn was an option after all.
The next morning, she woke to Lora standing over her at the table, gently shaking her awake.
“Did you not sleep?” she asked.
Meg stretched and stood slowly. “I did,” she said. “But not in my bed.”
“I have a bath ready for you, Your Highness, and some fresh clothes.”
“I am sorry, I must smell so.”
The girl shook her head. “I understand. You have been too kind.”
Meg smiled at her and the girl wiped away a tear. “Come, help me wash this away.”
Her leg ached as she stepped into the bath, and she tried not to wince. It looked well enough, although a scar marked where the skin had scraped against the stone. Kiam’s training idea had been a surprise, but the exercise had strengthened her much quicker than she had anticipated. She closed her eyes and sat back in the hot water, wondering if the gods did love her, but she saw their broken, crying faces and she longed to hold them in her arms and heal the hurt.
“Princess?” Lora asked softly. “Shall I wash your hair?”
“Please.” She sat forward to allow the girl to pour the water over her head. Her hand found the small bump at the back of her head.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” she mumbled into the water.
When she was dry and dressed and her white hair was tied in tight braids upon her head, Meg took a deep breath. She pointed to the dress still on the floor. “Get rid of it,” she said.
“I shall have it washed.”
“Have it burnt,” she snapped. “Give it to the fire that tried to take it. My gift.”
As Lora backed out of the room, her lip held tight between her teeth, Meg regretted her harsh words. She left her bedchamber to find Commander Brent standing patiently by the fire.
“You look like a princess,” he said, giving her a low bow. “A nice change.” He smiled and she returned it.
“How is everyone settling back into castle life?”
“It appears the queen has made some changes in her arrangements with the soldiers.”
“In what way?” Meg asked slowly.
“Commander Rainger is to take a unit towards the border with Tands.”
“Would that not be seen as a threat?”
Commander Brent looked at the floor. Meg gave him a moment.
“There is trouble in the towns,” he said carefully. “It is to review the situation.”
“But he has only just returned.”
Commander Brent nodded.
“She can’t know what has happened while we were away. She couldn’t have known about Kellin.”
“I’m afraid when you sister started questioning our reason for returning to Rocfeld, Rainger could not hold his tongue.”
Meg chewed her lip. “What did he say?”
“That she didn’t appreciate the women you were, both of you. That she would have been better to allow us to do as we were trained and protect you here.”
“It could have been worse,” Meg said softly.
“He may have called her paranoid.”
“Was he trying to be sent away?” she asked, exasperated. “There is nothing I can do to prevent his going. What is the trouble in the towns?”
“General unrest, she claimed. Although she did think that Tands was stirring things up. Causing trouble, maybe trying to turn the people.”
“Tands does want Rocfeld back,” she said slowly.
“There is a delegation from Tands here again.”
“Brother Erasmus mentioned them,” she said and then looked at him seriously. “The same delegates as before?”
He shrugged. “I know not, but I do know that they have asked to meet you.”
Meg’s heart beat fast and she wondered if she should allow herself a little hope. Her hands flew to her hair.
“You look lovely.” He bowed deeply.
“Stop that.” She smiled at him and then walked to the door.
“Do you need a shawl?” Lora asked behind her.
She turned too quickly and grimaced as her leg pinched. Brent moved forward and offered her a hand. “Do I limp?” she whispered as they moved along the corridor.
“Not at all,” he said. “A picture of grace. You may be stronger, but you haven’t healed completely.”
“More ducks then,” she said, and his laughter boomed down the hallway ahead of them.
She entered the Hall more nervous than she had expected. She had not seen Elalia at all since her return the day before, and she could see her amongst the people, smiling and laughing, her dark wings held behind her.
She held tightly on to Brent’s arm and curtsied low before the queen, trying to maintain the smile and not grimace as her leg ached under the pressure.
“How lovely that you have returned to us,” Elalia said. “How I have missed you.” She surprised Meg by stepping forward and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“It is nice to be home.”
“I am sure. And you had a difficult time of it,” Elalia said. “A fire, how dreadful.”
“We were lucky not to lose more lives,” Meg said.
“Did someone die?” Elalia asked seriously.
“The cook,” Meg said, “and the scullery maid.”
“Oh,” she said, looking at Brent. “Your men left as directed this morning?”
He bowed his head and Meg watched him closely. Men, she wondered. Not just Rainger, then. But Brent had said a unit, she remembered, and feared suddenly that all her friends had been sent away. She glanced about the room searching for a familiar face and was relieved when it rested on Kiam by the door. As he winked at her across the room, her hand flew to her chest and tears welled too quickly in her eyes.
“Princess Meg?” a resonant voice asked behind her. “You seem unwell.”
She turned slowly, trying not to lean too much on her leg, and looked up into the dark, handsome face of Brodwyn. And her heart caught in her throat. She nodded mutely and then shook her head.
“I am well,” she said, her voice surprisingly clear. And then she breathed.
“You appear to have hurt your leg,” he said.
She bit her lip and Brent stepped forward. “The Princess Megora,” he said, “was recently in a fire, which took the life of two of her staff.”
“But that is not how she broke her leg,” he said, his eyes still on Meg.
“Ducks,” she said.
He stifled a laugh and she smiled.
“Not ducks,” she said.
“What the princess means...” Brent started.
“I think, commander,” Brodwyn interrupted, “that the princess knows exactly what she means.”
“Meggie,” Elalia said, “this is one of the advisors to the king of Tands, I am sure you remember him. There are two more about,” she said, vaguely looking about the room. “They insisted upon seeing you. Quite forcefully,” she muttered. “To ensure you exist, I expect.”
“Your sister is ill,” Brodwyn said, his eyes still locked on hers.
Meg nodded.
“The fire,” Brent mumbled behind her.
“I think Meggie can talk for herself, Commander,” Elalia said. “Do you not have men to direct?”
He nodded and bowed to the queen, then Meg. She nodded and watched him go.
“A good man?” Brodwyn asked.
She nodded slowly as Elalia moved into the crowd to talk with someone else.
“Do you wish to discuss the ducks?” he asked seriously.
She shook her head.
“Were they dangerous?” he ventured.
She smiled. “It is a long story.”
“We have as much time as you need.”
“Perhaps we should talk of something else. How did you manage to talk the king into sending another delegation?” she asked. “Why is he so keen to...” She paused.
“To what?” he asked.
“I am not sure,” she said honestly. “The match has been dissolved. To have Rocfeld for himself, perhaps.”
He looked at her closely. “Perhaps he had heard of your beauty and wished to win you back.”
“In the light of the queen, I am plain,” she said.
He shook his head slowly. “Your influence?”
“I am the youngest sister.”
“Your giving nature, your way with words, your way with ducks.” He smiled and her heart stopped beating.
“I fell and broke my leg,” she said quickly.
“And the duck?”
“A joke, my lord, with the soldier that treated me.”
He studied her for a moment. “A soldier?”
She nodded.
“You are a wonder,” he breathed, and her legs went from beneath her. His strong arm was around her and he had her in a seat beside the wall.
A shadow stepped out from behind him. “More ducks, Highness?”
“I am well, Kiam,” she said, waving him off, and Brodwyn squatted down beside her.
“I do not think you are,” he whispered.
“I am, sire,” she said, and made to get up, but he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Kiam coughed loudly and her heart still beat too fast.
“You should not call me that here,” he whispered. “A princess addressing a lowly advisor thus. I would think you do not know your place.”
“We both know our place well enough,” she said, looking into the dark-brown pools of his eyes and trying not to drown. “At least I know your visit will not change the mind of the queen.”
“Do you wish me to give up all hope and leave?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
She sighed and fought back sudden tears. Her leg burned and she was sure she had others to talk with. She saw Brent walking quickly towards her and sighed with relief.
“Please wait,” he pleaded as she stood slowly.
“Princess Kellin asks for you,” Brent said quickly. “She is quite distressed.”
“Please, Princess Meg,” he said. “Give me some hope.”
“Tell her I come,” she said to Brent, and indicated that he step away. “Kiam, fetch your ducks,” she said to the wall.
“Yes, Highness.”
She focused on Brodwyn, tall and handsome and everything she remembered. He gave her a small smile and her breath caught again. “You are in pain,” he said suddenly, stepping forward, and she realised she was crying.
“I cannot give you what you want,” she whispered, wiping hastily at the tears. “I am sorry. The only hope is that Elalia may change her mind, retract her concerns about Tands and your father’s intentions and reinstate the agreement.”
“Meg,” he said quickly, reaching for her arm as she made to step away. “I need to know what you want.”
She shook her head. “We have discussed this before,” she said quietly. “I don’t have a say, no matter what I want.” She turned slowly. She walked even slower across the room, too aware of her limp, almost falling into the arms of a young soldier that waited by the door. She dared not turn around and hoped she could make it to Kellin before she lost all self-control.