“Ryn!” Aiden exclaimed when I burst into his privy chambers. “What happened? She was dismayed when you didn’t come—”
I stood before him, trembling and breathless from my run. He needed to see the Queen’s handiwork.
Disheveled hair.
Bloody lip.
Torn skirt.
“Did Owain do that?” he thundered. “He can’t just tussle with you anymore—he doesn’t know his own strength.”
I shook my head. “The Queen found me, Aiden. She found me in the library with Father.”
Aiden recoiled. “What did you do?”
“What did I do? Can’t you see what she’s done?”
“I can’t believe you’d provoke her—”
“Look at me!” I stomped my foot like a child, but it made Aiden stop. I knew somehow it was important that he truly see me, remember what he knew. “What do you see when you look at me?”
“I see . . .” He folded his arms. “. . . a silly girl who won’t accept that her father can marry whomever he chooses.”
I thought of Father in the library with the Queen and redoubled my attack. “What color are my eyes?”
He rolled his eyes in response, but I could see something change the longer Aiden looked at me. “Your eyes are hazel. Your hair is black, just like Father’s. Just like Mother’s.” He winced then, as if remembering the mother who’d died birthing Owain and me. “Just like mine.”
“And do I have Father or Mother’s mouth?”
“Mother’s.” He focused on my mouth, eyes widening when he saw the blood. “Good heavens, Ryn! What happened?”
And this time, he meant it.
“She found me with Father and she hit me.” I spoke slowly, afraid he’d blame me again.
“Let me see.” Aiden tipped my chin so that the light from the window shone on my throbbing cheek and bloody mouth.
He pulled a kerchief from inside his tunic, poured water on it from a pitcher, and handed it to me. “Tell me everything.”
I did, my words sometimes muffled by the kerchief. Aiden’s eyes didn’t leave my face as I told him about Father sitting like a stone and humming the tune the Queen had sung to him. He didn’t blink when I told him I’d brought Father cloves, and that I thought the Queen had forbidden them because they made Father remember us.
“You’re not angry about the cloves?”
“Oh, I’m furious,” he said. “What were you thinking, endangering yourself with that sorceress? What would have happened if you hadn’t been able to run?”
“You told me an hour ago that Rees deserved his beating!”
“Perhaps she really did enchant us.” He shook his head. “But I’m back, Ryn-girl. What happened next?”
I threw myself at him and hugged him so tightly that I embarrassed myself. I made sure to scrub my cheek against his tunic so there wasn’t any trace of tears on my face when I stepped back.
I didn’t have time to tell him more. One of the captains had come to Aiden’s door.
I heard Aiden murmur something in response. “—my brothers meet me in the courtyard.”
“A band of men is approaching,” he told me when he returned. “I need to be there, and I want you with me. I’m not leaving you alone again.”
“Visitors for the Ambassador from Danavir?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. The watchman reports he’s never seen anything like the approaching band. That’s why they called me.” Aiden swiped at the dampness on his tunic. “Are you well enough to come with me?”
“Never better.” I hadn’t broken Father’s enchantment and I was still trembling, but Aiden was himself again. I wiped the blood from my lip and followed him to the courtyard.
* * *
The cobbled courtyard, like every other part of the castle, was quieter than it had ever been before. I could still hear the ring of the blacksmith’s hammer. The hunting dogs bayed from their kennels.
But the men and women working in it were subdued, and the undercooks scurrying to and from the pantry that supplied the kitchen didn’t look up. Rees walked with a horse to the post where it would be saddled, and I couldn’t tell if he led the horse or leaned upon it.
My home had changed that much in only seven days.
I watched as Aiden scanned the courtyard. He noticed it too. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed, and he smiled just a little. Those who didn’t know him paid attention to the smile. I knew it meant he didn’t want his opponents to know he was about to attack.
He strode to the gatehouse, and I trotted to keep up with him. The constable and the Captain of the Guard waited for him.
The Captain silently handed Aiden a looking glass, and he peered out to the approaching band.
“Drop the portcullis. Now.” Aiden handed the looking glass back to the Captain. “I don’t know who they are, but they don’t enter the courtyard until they swear peace and surrender their weapons.”
“That bad?” I asked as Aiden escorted me back across the courtyard, toward the well by the kitchen and pantry—as far from the gatehouse as possible.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I won’t risk it.”
“Aiden!”
Mael and Cadan were jogging to meet us. Declan, Gavyn, and Owain weren’t far behind.
Declan noticed my face first. “What happened, Ryn?”
I glanced at Aiden, unsure how much to tell.
“She angered Father’s new wife,” he spat out.
Cadan cocked his head, as if he didn’t believe his ears.
“What did you do?” Mael asked me.
Cadan’s gaze lingered on my swollen lip. “She did that to you, Ryn? With her own hands?”
I nodded, willing him to see all that had happened.
“She’s a gentle soul!” protested Mael, and Declan nodded agreement.
Cadan blinked, and I saw her hold on him evaporate. “Maybe she isn’t a gentle soul, Mael.”
Gavyn nodded. “A gentle soul wouldn’t resort to violence.”
“Don’t speak against her!” blurted Owain.
Three brothers believed me. Three remained enchanted.
The standoff was broken as a horn from beyond the gatehouse rang out. It had a fierce center to it: music made from an animal roar.
The mysterious band had arrived.
The Captain of the Guard called out that they announce themselves, surrender their weapons, and swear peace.
Silence from beyond the portcullis. Finally, a gravelly voice that we could barely hear from across the courtyard answered, “. . . the white lady.”
The Captain looked at Aiden from the gatehouse and shook his head.
Aiden cursed under his breath. “Cadan, stay with Ryn. Don’t leave her side.”
Then he strode over to the gatehouse.
Cadan tugged me to stand by him. “Here, Ryn. Stay close and protect me from these mighty warriors.”
He tickled me—just enough to keep me distracted—while Aiden joined the Captain. We stood nearly fifty paces from the gatehouse, but we all saw Aiden stiffen at the sight of the band.
“I don’t think—” I began.
“Raise the portcullis!” The Queen’s voice rang out like a bell.
She stood at the library balcony, only a little to the right of the gatehouse.
Aiden bowed. “My Queen, they have not—”
“You must not have heard me, young Aiden: Let them in. They serve me.”
“That’s little comfort,” murmured Cadan.
After a dreadful pause, Aiden motioned to the gatehouse soldiers. The clang, clang, clang of the portcullis being raised echoed off the stone walls.
No one else dared speak.
A moment later, the men entered the courtyard. They looked wild, with unkempt hair and eyes that flashed warily in dirty, bearded faces. None of them possessed metal armor. Instead, they wore battle-scarred leather breastplates.
Cadan pulled in a hissing breath. “They are not from Danavir. Gavyn?”
Gavyn knew the crests and flags of all the lords and chiefs of neighboring lands. He was almost as good as a book, but even he shook his head. “I’ve not read or heard of anyone like them.”
The men didn’t even nod to Aiden or the Captain of the Guard. Instead, they looked around insolently, chins raised, eyes roving, like they’d caught scent of something. They reminded me of the blacksmith’s dog that prowled around the bellows looking for something to make him snarl.
“I greet you, men of the forest!” the Queen called out.
“Our Queen!” called a tall man near the front of the pack.
“How did they know she was here?” whispered Gavyn. “Or that she is queen? It’s been only a week.”
The wild men arranged themselves into rows and drew their swords. Then they held their black weapons over their hearts and saluted the new Queen of Lacharra.
“Captain!” called the Queen. “You will make sure that my guard is given room in the barracks.”
The Captain glanced at Aiden, who nodded reluctantly. Then the Captain motioned that the wild men should follow him.
“Obsidian blades,” murmured Gavyn as we watched the men sheath their dark, glossy swords and disperse to the barracks. “I know of no warriors who carry them.”
“Warriors in the old songs did,” offered Declan, smiling as if hearing the ancient melodies. “The ancient ones abhorred metal, so they carried obsidian weapons. But I never thought I’d see black blades in this world.”
Mael didn’t share Aiden’s worry or Declan’s fascination. “In this world, obsidian shatters. One blow from a regular sword would ruin these. Don’t let the blades frighten you. They’re good for only one cut.”
“One may be enough,” muttered Aiden as he joined us. “I don’t like this.”
“But they’re with her,” reassured Mael. “We’re safe—you can trust that.”
“Are you that foolish, Mael?” snapped Cadan. “Wild men with blades out of the ancient tales stroll in and you don’t wonder if perhaps something is amiss?”
“I’m no fool,” Mael shot back. “I trust the woman who saved Father from the forest! Don’t you?”
“I did until I saw what she did to Ryn.”
But Mael wouldn’t even look at me. Declan shook his head sadly as if the bruises were merely a misunderstanding. Owain glared.
They turned and walked away.
“Never mind them, Ryn. I’ll take you to your rooms.” Aiden turned toward the nearest entrance to the living quarters. He stopped at the sight of the wild men standing in the way.
“This way.” He moved toward the other entrance near the gatehouse, the one near the balcony where the Queen stood. “Don’t look at her. Just walk.”
I could feel the Queen’s eyes on me, bright and burning as the summer sun.
Just before I followed Aiden into the passage, a small, dark object flashed before me and landed at my feet.
A single clove lay on the narrow cobbles.
I looked up.
The Queen smiled down at me. “You forgot this, cygnet.”
I wished I had a grand and cutting reply that would wipe the smile from her face. I wished I was powerful enough to banish her for all the evil she’d wrought.
Instead I stood silent and still, ashamed at how my rabbit-heart raced at the memory of her attack.
“I will not forget your defiance in the library,” continued the Queen.
And still I had no reply, except the anger rising up in me. I glared up at her and slowly—deliberately—ground the clove to dust beneath my foot before following Aiden.
Somehow, that was reply enough.