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“What did you tell him?” Brent asked as she met him outside Kellin’s room.
“What does it matter?” she asked.
He shrugged and then grabbed her arm before she opened the door. “He looked upset, or angry maybe. I’m not sure what these men might tell their king. You should be careful.”
She nodded but he didn’t release her. The maid opened the door and Kellin stood behind her, tears tracking down her face, and she sniffed.
“What has happened?” she asked, ushering them in.
As the door closed, Meg looked at Brent’s hand still tight around her arm. “Brodwyn is back,” she said.
He released her and stepped back as Kellin asked, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” she said, and turned to Brent. “Did you not know who he was?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Has he come back for you?” Kellin asked, her voice sad.
“I don’t think so,” she said softly. “How do you feel?”
“Tired, swollen. When will Rainger return?” She wiped at her face and sniffed again.
Meg looked at Brent to answer, but he stared at her. “You cannot say a word,” she said, “I trust you to keep the secret.”
He nodded mutely, bowed low and backed out of the room.
“He won’t tell,” Kellin said, sitting before the fire, her condition more apparent as her dress strained against her stomach. “When will Rainger return?”
“I don’t know. Elalia sent him straight out. There has been some trouble at the border and she wants him to watch over it. It could be weeks.”
She nodded slowly as another tear escaped. “Elalia has done this because I have what she does not,” she whispered.
“I cannot guess at why Elalia does anything. Perhaps she fears the scandal.”
“As you did,” Kellin said quickly, and despite her best efforts Meg’s face became hot.
“I worry for you,” she said, sitting beside her and reaching for her hand, but Kellin pulled it away.
“I wanted you to worry for my baby,” Kellin whispered, her hand running over her stomach. “For Rainger and I to be together.”
“I’m not sure that you can be,” Meg said.
Kellin turned hurt eyes on her and wiped away her own tears.
“I cannot see how at this point, but it may be,” she said, pulling Kellin close and running her fingers through her hair as she sobbed against Meg’s shoulder.
Later that evening while she sat in her room, her leg stretched out across the bed, the overpowering smell of Kiam’s ointment made Meg’s eyes water. She leaned back into the pillows and closed her eyes; it seemed so long since she’d had a decent night’s sleep.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” Lora whispered, and she opened her eyes to see two men standing in her doorway. One of which was Brodwyn. She pulled her dress down over her leg and sighed.
“I thought the Brother might be of some assistance,” he said from the doorway.
She shook her head, but the Brother moved into the room anyway. “A strong odour, Your Highness,” he said.
“It helps the pain.”
He was dressed as the Brothers of Rocfeld, only he wore darker robes and a green belt. “Erasmus has given me his blessing to examine you,” he said slowly.
“Who am I to say no, if Erasmus says yes?” she said, and leaned back again.
He gently lifted her skirt. “Mmm,” he said, and she looked up to see Brodwyn leaning in from the doorway. “He does not bandage it now.”
She shook her head. “The bone has healed, but I twisted it this morning and the ointment helps the pain. I spent too many days in a carriage with little chance to exercise it.”
The Brother looked up at Brodwyn and back to the leg.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice loud.
“I would not expect such pain after such a time,” he said.
She shook her head. “It was a bad break.”
“Who pushed you?” he asked suddenly.
“The gods,” she whispered.
He stood up and bowed deeply. “Did you cry over a broken face?” he asked.
She leaned back into the pillows, suddenly utterly exhausted; tears flowed despite her best efforts.
Brodwyn raced forward and took her hand, “Meg,” he said. “Please do not cry.”
She was suddenly aware of the men in her room, and she pushed her skirt over her leg again.
“The gods love you, little raven,” the Brother said. “Pray to them and take them in your arms.”
She opened her eyes and wiped at the tears, tearing her hand from Brodwyn. “I am not the Raven,” she said.
The Brother smiled and sighed. “The gods love you,” he said.
“Please, no more; let them love me at a distance.”
The Brother stood and nodded and left the room. Brodwyn remained at her side, and she squeezed her eyes closed. He pulled the covers up and over her body, then gently brushed the hair from her face.
She waited for the door to close and then she pulled herself slowly from the bed and, leaning against the door, counted to ten. There was nothing but silence, and she opened the door to find Raf’s bulk blocking the doorway. He glanced around at her and she nodded once, then closed the door on him. Brent might have shared her secret, she thought as she called Lora to help her out of her dress.
The next morning, Meg pushed herself out of bed and stretched. Lora hovered around her.
“I am well,” she said, lifting the nightdress. “See? It is fine.”
The maid scrunched her nose at the smell and then sighed at the state of her nightdress, for the ointment had left an oily stain. The leg itself, Meg was relieved to see, was fine. There was no swelling and no red marks, just a stiffness inside that sometimes pulled and twisted. She sighed as she thought of Brodwyn’s handsome face. What is his plan? she wondered.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Meg waved the maid towards it and gently stood. A different leg this morning, she thought with a smile.
“The queen has asked for you, Your Highness,” Lora said as she re-entered the room.
“She is early today,” Meg said. “Let us dress quickly for her then.”
As she walked towards her sister’s rooms, Meg was relieved to find her leg worked much more comfortably, and she wondered if there would be a chance for her to continue her exercise. She paused by the chapel door and slowly pushed it open. It was empty, and she stepped in. Thinking she could hear whispering, she looked for a moment to see if Air had followed her here. The room was empty.
A small wooden alter sat by the window and two candles stood upon it, one white and one black. She remembered the last time she had stopped by this room—the patterns that had moved across the walls, the shadow that had stood in the middle of the room. She softly walked across the worn flagstones to run her hand over the cool stone walls. Where is the Silent Mother? Has Sythia shown herself again, or to others? she wondered.
She peered through the foggy glass of the small window. The view was unexpected, for it was a garden, green and bright, and she opened the window. Flowers of every colour grew against the castle wall and small birds flitted amongst the bushes.
She breathed in the fresh, cool air. The leaves would be gone from the trees soon, and the snow would return and cover the world. It was as though she stood at a window into another world, and she couldn’t look away. She wondered if Water lived in the snow.
“I had asked you to come to me,” Elalia’s voice called softly across the space, echoing from the walls.
Meg dragged her eyes away from the view and bobbed a curtsy for her sister. “I was on my way, but something caught my attention. Forgive me, Your Majesty, we have been away too long.”
Elalia remained still in the doorway. “And yet you returned when you decided you should. You could, it seems, have made that decision at any time.”
“The fire drove us out,” she said, looking down at her hands, the fear she had felt that night returning.
“Come and talk with me.”
She nodded once and walked back across the chapel to her sister. “Why are there no gods here?” she asked.
Elalia shrugged and took her arm. “It is said by some that the gods are everywhere. And that we do not need their statues.”
Meg nodded at the sentiment.
“Do you believe such a thing?” Elalia asked.
“The little chapel at the Keep only held the images of Kira and Kion,” she said. “Yet I felt the presence of the Followers.”
“Is that so?” Elalia asked, studying her face.
Meg nodded again but said no more.
“What else happened at the Keep?” she asked slowly.
They had arrived at her sister’s solar, and as Elalia showed her in, she moved to the window and looked out over the courtyard. She wondered why she could not see the wonder she had from the room beneath them.
“The Keep?” she asked again, and Meg shrugged her shoulders. Elalia sighed. “Erasmus tells me that we expect a child.”
Meg swung from the window, smiling. “I am pleased for you,” she said.
Elalia’s face darkened and Meg was confused for a moment, then looked back to the window.
“Kellin,” she said softly.
“Yes. Kellin.”
“Too many soldiers,” Meg whispered, “and too few ladies.”
When Elalia didn’t respond, Meg turned and found Elalia studying her again, her finger tapping upon the table as she had seen Erasmus do.
“I wonder if you strayed yourself?” Elalia asked openly.
She shook her head.
“Commander Brent seems quite fond of you, and the young soldier that had been assigned to watch over you at the court had his arm around you at one point, I believe.”
“I know my place,” Meg said, her face warm. “As do Brent and Kiam.”
Elalia smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Should we have a nurse look you over?”
“Look all you like,” she snapped. “I know my duty, and I would not endanger our kingdom by a silly act that may injure Tands.”
“What do you know of Tands?” Elalia asked loudly. “And the match has been dissolved, as well you know.”
“Did you not want me to meet with their advisors?” Meg asked. “It was by your instruction to talk with them. I thought you had a plan.”
“Meggie,” Elalia said calmly. “It is not for you to worry about such things. We simply try to keep them from taking offence.”
Meg sighed.
“And the soldier with his arms around you?” she asked.
“My leg ached,” she said. “I twisted it in the morning, and I could no longer stand upon it.”
“One sister with child, the other crippled... I wonder that sending you out there was a good idea,” she mused, but she smiled as she spoke.
“Why did you send us?” Meg asked.
Elalia’s face hardened. “It was for your own protection.”
“You were hoping we would come undone,” Meg said quickly.
“How dare you suggest such a thing,” Elalia said.
“Two people died,” she said, walking fast towards the table, and for a moment something else flashed across her sister’s hard face and Meg stopped. Was it fear?
Elalia pulled herself together quickly. “You are returned and are safe,” she said.
Meg sat slowly at the table. “So why have me meet with Tands?” she asked. “In the hope our embarrassments would leak?”
Elalia glared at her. “Of course not; your sister was tucked away.”
“The cripple wasn’t,” Meg murmured.
“Tands has sent delegates to talk of trade, but I fear they want war. Although they sent no one of consequence—simple advisors again.”
Meg opened her mouth to question her sister and then stopped. She knew full well that the youngest advisor was indeed the prince. Elalia had told her so before she had been sent away. But she kept the thought to herself and nodded slowly.
“They are not happy that I sent you away. But what business is it of theirs? How could they question my keeping you safe?” She reached across the table and squeezed Meg’s hand. “I will ensure another arrangement is made,” she said, holding Meg tighter. She let her go suddenly and sat back. “And Terra tells me they walk the halls at night, as though they search out our secrets, but Brother Erasmus tells me they spend much of that time in prayer, and it is... Well,” she said, pulling herself up. “You are surrounded by soldiers, guards at all times; you are safe, I am sure.”
“Someone is always close,” she said.
“Not too close?” Elalia asked. “It does not pay to have that sort too close. And you are their princess, their better. They would do well to be reminded.”
Meg nodded slowly. They were friends first, she thought, and it was Elalia’s doing that they were so.