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Kellin stared out the window and sighed. It all seemed terribly familiar; she had spent her life in captivity and it didn’t look likely to change. Her head ached and her body ached and her heart ached. “Why has he not come?” she whispered to the glass.
“Because Elalia has not given permission for him to return, nor is she likely to,” Meg said.
Kellin tried to hold herself still, but the tears flowed, and she cursed herself for they flowed too often. Then Meg’s arms were tight around her.
“Come,” she said, “let us out of this room.”
Kellin looked at her seriously. “Where would we go?”
“To the Hall.” Meg smiled despite Kellin’s shaking head. “Yes, we can study the dresses, see how the world has changed while we have been away, see who is married and who is not.”
Meg was so keen Kellin found herself being pulled easily away from the window, and then Cate was there, smiling sweetly.
“We have a new dress for you,” Meg said. “And we’ll wash your face.”
“And braid your hair,” the maid added.
“And we will move through the people and have them admire you.”
Kellin’s knees buckled and Meg stepped forward to grab her, groaning as she took the weight. “I am sorry,” she said, feeling her sister’s pain press down on her.
“It is nothing,” Meg breathed, but Kellin could see by her face that it was. “Come, let us dress you.”
Kellin allowed them to dress her and tie up her hair, the maid and Meg working together. But the fear stuck in her throat. Rainger would not be there, and no matter her dress, her condition was already clear. There would be so many people staring at her, and she suddenly longed for the Keep and the sound of soldiers.
Meg’s hands were in hers and she smiled. “It will be well,” she said, and kissed her cheek.
Kellin was led to the door, and she grabbed at Meg as panic overwhelmed her and her hand flew to her stomach.
“It will be well,” Meg said more sternly and opened the door, and there was Brent’s smiling face and his arm outstretched.
She breathed and nodded.
“How beautiful you look, Princess. I am afraid you will cause much jealousy amongst the other ladies.”
She took his arm and turned to find Kiam following, and Meg smiled warmly.
“We are surrounded by friends,” she whispered. “And so you are safe.”
Kellin nodded and allowed them to lead her to the Hall.
The room seemed to hush as they entered it, all eyes studying them, and Kellin’s feet slowed.
“Sisters,” Malin greeted them loudly, moving swiftly towards them, and then he bowed low. “How well you look.”
“Thank you,” Meg said. “It is so long since we have seen you, Lord Rocfeld.”
He seemed softer somehow, different. “You have greyed,” she said aloud, and he laughed comfortably. She tried a small smile. “Were we gone so long?”
“So it would seem,” he said. “Come, let us find some ladies to share your tales of travel with.”
Kellin swallowed hard. “I am not sure that we would wish to share too much,” she whispered.
“The fire,” he said, nodding slowly. “A terrible business, I am sure. We shall not speak of it then.” He took her arm as Brent moved back and she felt a moment of exposure, as though the whole world could see her fear. “Let us talk of pleasant things,” he said quietly, “like dresses and shoes.”
She smiled at him and he gently led her into the room. The noise started again, a noise she had not heard in so long, of women talking and laughter and music. She smiled at Meg and then Malin was introducing her to the young wife of his companion Robert.
Meg had been concerned about Malin’s sudden interest, but he did well to put Kellin at ease. She wondered how he could have changed so much and what he may have to gain from it.
Kellin slipped into discussions of dresses and new marriages easily, and Meg was relieved to see her smile. She wondered how long it would last before people talked of her in whispers.
“Meg,” she said. “What do you think?”
Meg focused on Kellin’s face. “Of what?”
Kellin shook her head. “It seems the advisors from Tands have been here for some time and the world wonders why they are here,” she said.
Meg looked at her sister seriously. “I thought we were to talk of dresses,” she said.
“It started with talk of the strange dark suit,” she said, pointing across the room.
Meg followed her finger to see Brother Adroth and Brodwyn looking their way, and she gulped down the strange feeling in her chest.
“Such different clothing. I wonder, do they all dress like that?” Kellin asked.
“You may ask yourself,” Malin said, “for they come this way.”
Meg held herself tall.
“Princesses,” Brodwyn said, bowing low. “I trust you are well.”
“Thank you, yes,” Kellin said, giving Meg a little nudge. Meg nodded, her voice gone.
“Your Highness,” he said, turning to give Malin a bow.
“The ladies ask after your attire, sir,” he said.
Meg cringed and hoped it did not show on her face.
“Really?” he asked smoothly.
“My sister,” Meg said. “Asks after the ladies of your kingdom and whether they wear any colour.”
“Nothing as lovely as your gowns, I am sure,” he said, his eyes on Kellin. Meg wondered if he could tell her secret, or if he had heard the whispers and was looking for signs of it.
“Do the gentlemen all wear black?” she asked, drawing his eyes back to her.
He shook his head. “I can say little for gentlemen, Your Highness. I am but a simple advisor,”
Lord Alva appeared beside them, dressed just as Brodwyn was. “Princess,” he said. “It is a pleasure to see you again.” She bowed her head. “We did not meet yesterday,” he went on. She shook her head.
“How is your leg today?” the Brother asked.
“Quite well, thank you.”
“Were you hurt, Meggie?” Malin asked, his voice full of concern.
“A fall,” she said, waving him off. “Nothing to think on.”
He nodded, and Kellin looked at her closely.
“I am well,” she said.
“Did I hear mention of a fire?” Lord Alva asked.
Kellin stiffened at her side and as she took her hand, she tried to indicate as subtly as she could that Brodwyn change the subject.
“A terrible business,” Malin went on.
“What happened?” Lord Alva asked.
Meg sighed despite herself. Kellin gripped her hand tighter.
“Oh my,” she said, pointing across the room, and the men before her turned except for Brodwyn. “What a wonderful colour that gown is,” she said, her eyes on his. The Brother coughed, and she knew he watched her too.
“How do you find the Temple of the Brotherhood at Rocfeld?” she asked, turning to him.
“Quite grand,” he said. “The gods are beautifully carved. I could spend my days happily with Kion smiling down on me.”
“And Kira too, I am sure,” Meg said with a smile.
“So true,” he said.
“Where is the queen today?” Lord Alva asked, and Meg looked to Malin who shook his head.
“Busy with some matter, I should think,” he murmured.
The conversation stalled.
“I am sure a walk would help your leg, Your Highness,” the Brother said quietly. “Lord Danel, why don’t you assist the princess?”
The group was quiet as Meg looked between the men and then back to Kellin.
“Danel,” the old man said again, and Brodwyn jumped as though he had been poked with a stick.
“Of course,” he said quickly. “Your Highness.” He offered her his arm. “There is a garden, I remember.”
She nodded mutely and he led her slowly towards the door, and as they passed through, the solider on guard stepped forward and bowed.
“I don’t suppose he likes ducks?” Brodwyn ventured.
She smiled but shook her head.
“Another friend?” he asked.
She stopped and looked at him seriously. “They are all friends,” she said softly, wondering what he thought, if he too considered her tarnished from her time away with so many soldiers.
The feeling stuck in her throat and they walked in silence to the garden. She allowed him to lead her along the paths, her mind on her conversation with Elalia, as to what they might want.
“Meg,” he said suddenly, taking her hand, his skin rough on hers, and she found herself studying his hands. As she looked up into his brown eyes, she had the sudden sensation that she didn’t want him to let go, and an understanding of Kellin formed.
The scents of the flowers seemed strangely foreign, and at the sight of a butterfly she paused.
“They are always watching,” he muttered beside her, and she looked around. “The guards,” he said with a flick of his head back towards the arch they had entered through.
She saw Raf and nodded. He stepped back and disappeared.
He looked at her closely. “I wonder at the reason he watches.”
“He is a soldier; it is what they do. Discussion is essential between our kingdoms,” she said, studying the garden so she could think outside his eyes. “You and your advisors sought me out,” she said. “I am here, listening to your plans. Or thoughts, or similar.”
He said nothing, and she turned back to him. “Would you rather I call my friend and tell him who you really are—a plant, a sneak, a threat to our crown?” She bit her lip as he watched her. She was not quite sure where the last words had come from. “Prince, I meant. A prince. One who is not as he seems.”
She sighed and looked at the ground, and remembered that Raf possibly knew exactly who Brodwyn was.
He startled her by reaching out and brushing her hair, then moved his hand back before her with a butterfly that climbed to the end of his finger before it flew away.
“Another friend?” he asked.
She sighed again. She was not being the strong woman she wanted to be. “Why are we talking in the garden?” she asked, and despite wanting to remain with him, she sounded tired even to her own ears.
“Tell me about the fire,” he said. “I do not want to think it could be an attack—your cousins?”
She shook her head slowly. “An accident,” she said. “A horrible accident.”
He reached out a hand again and she found herself stepping back. “You are too familiar, sir, for someone of your office.”
He glanced around him and then back to her with a questioning look. “You know who I am.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “But I do not think it wise for others to know.”
“Your duck man seemed very sure of himself,” he said, releasing his hold on her and crossing his arms.
She let out a small laugh. “Kiam...” And at the hard look that formed in his eye said, “Knows his place and his duty.”
“How many other men know their place?” he asked, his voice soft, but it was like a sharp knife and she gulped at the sudden lump forming in her throat as the skin prickled along her arms. She pushed a finger into her chest to steady herself.
He opened his mouth to say something else and Raf coughed behind her. Brodwyn gave a short bow and walked quickly away, deeper into the garden. Meg had an urge to sit down.
“Why does a soldier dress as an advisor?” Raf asked quietly as he stepped forward to take her arm.
She looked at him, but before she could speak a familiar voice behind her said, “That will do, Raf. I shall escort the princess back to her rooms. I think that leg of yours is playing up.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice catching. “Let us tell people it is the leg.”
“Breathe,” Brent said, holding her by the shoulders, and she found herself glancing about and then drew in a ragged breath, followed by another, and he continued to watch her until she breathed easily.
“Thank you, Brent,” she said, turning back towards the arch. “I...” But her voice caught again.
“Come along, Meg,” he said softly. “This will not do. I hope he is here for the right reason.”
She nodded. So did she, but she wasn’t quite sure what that reason was.
Brodwyn watched her standing in the garden with the handsome soldier, his hands on her arms, his voice soft. “Did he call her Meg?” he asked himself.
“He did.”
The prince jumped at the Brother’s voice.
“By the gods, man, you could kill me.”
“Someone may have; you were too close to that girl.”
“She is more than a girl,” he murmured.
The stern look on the Brother’s face pulled him up. “She is a princess, and if you expect her to be the answer to your father’s issues, you need to allow some space for her.”
“Space?” he asked. “You said I should win her quickly. Give her a chance to see me for who I am.”
“I think she did that the moment she laid eyes on you.”
“But her friendship...” He said the word slowly. “With the commander.”
“Is not what you think,” the Brother said sternly. “Look with your eyes, man.” He shook his head. “You have not listened to anything I have said to you.”
Brodwyn crossed his arms and focused on the Brother.
“He advises her as a soldier should, and she listens to his counsel. She sees you for more than the prince you are, and it was time you saw her too. More happened when she was sent away than either of us are fully aware of—more than a fall, more than a fire.”
He looked after them again, gone now through the gates towards the castle itself. Were they in her rooms talking by the fire? He turned back to the old man, who sighed.
“It was not my father?” he asked. “It was not Tands?”
Brother Adroth shook his head. “Tands did not know where she was, hence an excuse for our visit.”
Brodwyn nodded and then sighed. He wasn’t sure he could get to know her all over again and then leave her behind.
“Rest,” the Brother said. “And perhaps start your day early with prayer in the Temple.”