TANWEN
I was sitting halfway up the first flight of stairs leading off the foyer, feeling extremely sorry for myself, when I heard the commotion.
A muffled shout, a rustle. And then Braith screamed.
I flew down the stairs.
“Braith!”
I bolted toward the front doors of the palace, barely processing the blur of bodies and shouts and chaos around me. “Braith!”
My feet skidded against the stone floor as I pulled to a stop in time to see my father reach up and disarm a dagger from a shouting peasant’s hand. In another moment, he had the peasant pinned to the floor, face down, arms secured behind his back. Father spun the dagger around in a swift motion so that the blade rested against the back of the peasant’s neck.
The whole thing lasted about the span of a single breath, and Father didn’t even look to be sweating.
I stumbled back a step.
His calm, quiet voice somehow carried over the panic in the foyer. “You, soldier.” He nodded to one of the guards who was supposed to be manning the door. “Arrest this man for treason and attempted regicide.”
“Yes, General.” The soldier motioned to two of his fellows, and they had the peasant on his feet and secured in a few moments.
The man bled from a cut on his forehead, I guessed from his fall to the stone floor, but otherwise he seemed unharmed. He screamed as the guardsmen led him away. “Gareth’s line will end! Down with the pretender queen! Down with the monarchy!”
One guardsman delivered an elbow to the peasant’s gut. “Shut up, you!”
The crowd thinned as some of the onlookers padded after the struggling prisoner and palace guard. Braith came into view. She sat crumpled on the floor, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.
“Braith!” I rushed to her side and dropped to my knees. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She shook her head like it was full of fog and fluff. “No, just . . . startled.”
I checked her over anyway. “Cameria is going to explode when she hears. She leaves you alone for half a moment . . .”
“Indeed.” Braith allowed me to help her to her feet—not an easy task in her queenly corset and gown.
“Tannie,” Father’s voice cut in, maddeningly calm and soothing. “It is the palace guards’ job to protect the queen. What are you doing down here?”
“Well, you seemed keen to jump in.”
Father paused. “The guardsman in me is slow to retire, I suppose. I am technically still a soldier.”
I bit back any further argument. He was right, of course. “Aye. I need to get back, anyway. Need to finish packing. Just for the trip to Physgot,” I added before he could misunderstand me. If this very long day had beaten one thing into my head, it was that I would not be traveling on Mor’s ship.
“All right, Tannie. I will see you up there shortly.”
I nodded to Father, curtsied to Queen Braith, and took my leave.
I trudged back up the stairs. Father didn’t even want me going to Physgot. I could tell by the look he gave me when I mentioned it. But I had to see my friends off from the dock. Stars, it was probably safer for me in Physgot than Urian right now, with assassins breaching the palace doors.
A shudder rippled through me.
I took a right turn toward the tower housing our apartments and ran bodily into a solid black wall.
“Tannie En-Yestin, there you are!”
The wall knew my name.
But then the voice registered, and I moved past my mental hiccup at his attire. Still wasn’t used to that blasted palace guardsman uniform, even though he wore it all the time, on duty or off.
“Ho, Brac.” I moved to sidestep him and continue toward my room. I had packing to attend to and wasn’t keen to let him know about it just yet.
But Brac put his hand on my arm and pulled me back. He wrapped me in a hug. “I heard there was an attempted assassination in the foyer. So glad you weren’t down there.”
“Oh.” My voice was muffled as he pressed my face into his chest. “I was down there.”
He held me at arm’s length. “What?”
“Aye, I heard the shouting and went to see if Braith was all right.”
“Tannie! What’s gotten into you? Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?”
I glared at him. Ironic. His overprotectiveness—and my father’s—might actually get me killed, if I really was getting as sick as Gryfelle.
“No. Course not. I just reacted.”
“Like always.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed past him. “Excuse me.”
He pulled me back again. “I’m sorry.”
I didn’t look up.
“Did you hear me, Tannie? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Just been so worried about you. Everything seems so dangerous these days. And now that we’re betrothed, I feel a special need to protect you. You understand that, surely.”
Discomfort rose in my throat. “I really need to go.”
He didn’t even seem to hear me.
Next second I was wrapped in another hug, and he may as well have been trying to wring the air from my chest for all the breath I could manage.
I needed to get out of there.
“Brac, I must go. Please.”
“Aye, my girl.” He released me at last. “I’ll check on you later. Shall I have dinner sent up to your room?”
I looked at him like he’d dropped through the ceiling.
“Dinner sent to my room?”
“Aye. Thought you might want a quiet meal after your fright.”
“I’m fine,” I mumbled.
“I’ll have dinner sent.”
“Aye. Whatever you want.”
“It’ll be all right, Tannie. I promise.”
I forced a thin smile and nodded, then I fled for the stairs.
Nothing was all right. Nothing at all. Brac used to feel like home, and now? Now when I was with him I felt . . . alone.
And he was going to lose his mind when I told him I was going to Physgot.