Seven

As hard as she’d tried, Maren hadn’t been able to shake her unease about Teige and the brief look she’d seen on his face. Part of her wondered if her injury was making her delusional, allowing fear of what was happening to her to affect her sanity. It had eaten at her for days, and she finally decided to talk to Daric.

He sat around the Council table with his advisors and looked more than restless. He’d always liked doing better than talking.

Leaning back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the table, he eventually glanced over and saw her, smiling in a way that made her know exactly what he’d do next.

“Gentleman.” He placed his hands on the table and rose to his feet. “Lady Maren needs to speak with me about something that can’t wait. Would you please excuse us?”

They filed out of the room, some casting questioning glances her way, and shut the door behind them.

“Did I just lie to my advisors?” Daric asked, his mouth tilted up on one side.

“Actually, no. I do want to speak with you. And while it could wait, I’d prefer it didn’t.”

“Good.” He pulled out the chair next to his. “That meeting should have been over an hour ago.” He ran hand through his hair. “So, my dear, what can I do for you?”

“I came to talk about Lord Teige?”

Daric’s mouth twisted into a grin. “Teige, huh? Well, if that’s the way the wind blows, Philip’s going to be disappointed. But I guess if it went the other way, Teige would be disappointed. You do realize you’re going to break one of their hearts?”

She squirmed in her seat. “You misunderstood. I’m not interested in either Philip or Teige.”

Daric only raised his brows.

“It’s true,” she insisted. “I’m wondering about Teige simply because I don’t know anything about him. Neither does Philip. Except that Teige is possibly from somewhere in the east, and he won’t talk about his past.”

“I’m afraid I can’t add anything more,” Daric said. “But why are you so curious?”

“Because…” She swallowed. “Because ever since Teige first took my hand, the pain in my shoulder has gotten worse.”

He didn’t say anything for a very long minute, and when he did, his voice was full of disbelief. “And you think it’s because of Teige?”

She nodded. “At first it was only when he touched me. Now it’s worse anytime he’s even near.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I hoped knowing more about him might explain it. I’m scared. Of the pain and it getting worse. But also of Teige. I feel like there’s something about him we don’t know – and that we should.”

“No.” Daric’s voice was firm, allowing no room for argument. Then he leaned his elbows on the table. “Teige has more than proven himself. And who better than you to understand that some things should remain in the past.”

Which didn’t make her feel any better, or take away the growing ache in her chest. Daric had never dismissed her so completely. Without even listening. Without any consideration at all. “And what about my injury getting worse?”

“Coincidence.” His tone was so indifferent. Almost dismissive.

“It’s only when I’m around Teige.”

Genuine worry finally creased Daric’s brows. “Why haven’t you come to me sooner? We could have gone to the healers.”

“I didn’t want to burden you. Or Adare.” She met his eyes. “Please don’t tell her. She’ll just worry over nothing. Because we both know there’s nothing that can be done.”

He reached out and took her hands. “The truth, Maren. Are you all right?”

Honestly, she didn’t know. “I’ll be fine.”

His gaze didn’t waver as he seemed to consider her answer. “Will you let me know if it gets worse?”

She nodded but knew she wouldn’t. Not if she didn’t have to. “I’ll let you get back to more important things.” She was almost to the door when he called her name.

“Maren. About Teige.” He frowned. “I won’t believe bad about him. I don’t know why your injury is worse, but it can’t be Teige. There must be another explanation.”

She forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.” But she wasn’t reassured. One of the men she admired most didn’t believe her. It left her miserable, as if Daric had taken a piece of her heart and crushed it for reasons she couldn’t understand.

Or maybe it wasn’t Daric at all. Perhaps she truly was letting the pain control her, imagining enemies where there were none. Maybe Daric was simply trying to help her see the truth.

Either way, she needed to know, and it looked like she’d have to find the answers on her own.

 

* * *

 

If Maren hadn’t seen what Delorme was like before the siege, it would have been almost unrecognizable. Carts lined the streets, filled with materials that could be used to fix everything from tools to chicken pens. Intersections were stacked with paving stones. Piles of thatch lay ready to repair leaking roofs. Shiny new panes of glass glinted from window sills.

Maren stared in awe. It had only been a week since she’d been in the city, and the changes were remarkable, despite the fact she hadn’t seen a single worker – just like in the castle itself.

For one brief moment, she had the same feeling she’d had at the banquet, as if it were too good to be true.

She shook it off and made her way through the city she loved, talking to farmers, blacksmiths, carpenters, shopkeepers, wheelwrights, anyone she came across. They all told her the same thing: everything was good. They were getting what they needed. No one complained. No one asked for more. And yet they were reserved, as if they too couldn’t believe their eyes. The siege might have ended, but the effects had taken a toll. The city was scarred. So were the people.

“Excuse me, Lady Maren.”

A girl around ten, with a nose decorated with freckles and a smudge across her cheek, stood a few feet away, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

Maren smiled. “Yes? What can I do for you?”

The girl held out a handful of colorful ribbons. “Would you like one?”

She crouched down to examine them and chose a white one embroidered with small pink flowers. “This is beautiful. Did you make it?”

The girl beamed and nodded. “Yes.” She hesitated. “Could I tie it in your hair for you?”

“I would love that.” Maren leaned her head back while the girl arranged the ribbon. Then she dug a small coin out of her bag and held it out.

The girl just shook her head. “No. It’s a gift. My ma would be mad if I took your money. A piece of ribbon isn’t worth that.”

Maren thought. “But you could sell the ribbon, and your family could use the money.” But she still put the coin back in her pocket – and had an idea. “What if I give you a gift in exchange?”

The girl’s eyes lit up, but only for a second. “No, I couldn’t accept a gift from a lady.”

Maren thought of everything she had with her. Her earrings really weren’t worth much, but she knew the girl wouldn’t accept them. She had a small bag. It was quilted silk and again, wouldn’t be acceptable. And she had her bracelets. Two of them were thin silver bands – they weren’t any better than the coin. But the third was wood, carved to resemble a flowering vine. She slipped it off her wrist and held it out to the girl.

She just stood there, the desire in her eyes bright, but willing herself not to reach for the gift. “No. I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Maren asked. “It’s just wood, and I have lots of bracelets. I won’t even miss it. Besides, it would be beautiful on you.” When the girl still hesitated, she tried one last time. “You can tell your ma I wouldn’t take the ribbon unless you took the bracelet.”

The girl thought for a minute and then slowly held out her hand. Maren slipped the bracelet on it and smiled. The girl looked at it in awe before stammering her thanks and skipping away. Maren watched her with a smile that soon faded when the ache in her shoulder sprang to life. Teige was somewhere nearby, which caught her completely off guard since she assumed he was still with Philip.

“You do realize you just gave her the most expensive thing you have with you? A gift fit for a king.”

She took a deep breath and turned to face him. “It was given by a king.”

“And if her mother recognizes it as rosewood?”

“Hopefully she won’t.”

Teige raised a single eyebrow.

“If she does, she’ll either pretend not to know, or sell it.”

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against a nearby fence. “You know, Lady Maren, you’re a bit of a mystery.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re the First Lady and yet you give priceless gifts to village girls. You are more than just the queen’s closest friend. There’s something deeper between you. And yet you don’t seem to fit in with the other ladies. Now I realize that could just be jealousy, but I get the sense it’s more than that.” He paused and gave her a disarming smile. “And you’re the only person I’ve met who hasn’t been overcome by my captivating self.”

“I’m not easily overcome,” she said, trying to keep her voice from betraying her growing discomfort.

“Then I’ll just have to work harder. May I accompany you?” He offered his arm, which she pretended not to notice. The pain was already almost unbearable. She was afraid if she touched him, she wouldn’t be able to hide it.

“I’m surprised to see you in town,” she said. “I thought you were with Philip?”

Teige smiled. “I was, but he had enough help, and there was so much work that needed to be done here, so he sent me back. I’m making sure all the men and supplies I ordered arrived. And I’m making sure no one is trying to get paid without doing the work. Thus far, everything is on schedule, except for a shipment of horses that were supposed to come yesterday from Lord Montagu.”

Her brows drew together. “You’re responsible for all of this?”

“The king and Philip are technically responsible. I was just put in charge of actually seeing it gets done.” He shrugged. “Philip thought my attention to detail might come in handy.”

Philip was right. Teige was good at details. Every time she’d seen him, his entire person was perfect. Whatever reservations she had about him went much deeper than surface perfection, beyond the charm and the teasing flirtation.

Or she could just be imagining things.

“I’m impressed. Everyone I’ve talked with seems pleased with the work, the schedule, and the effort.”

Teige grinned. “I may win you over yet.”

When she didn’t respond, he changed the subject. “So, Lady Maren, tell me about yourself. Your father must have been a nobleman.”

“Yes, he was the King’s Scholar.”

Teige stopped, his eyes widening in a look of dawning comprehension.

“Lord Teige?”

He started and looked at her as if he’d never truly seen her before. “I’m sorry. I just hadn’t realized your father was Lord Haven. Philip told me he’d been murdered by Kern. That must have been terrible for you.”

Something about his voice sounded wrong, but since he’d also put a “comforting” hand on her elbow, causing her shoulder to scream in pain, she wasn’t sure she was thinking clearly. She started walking again, not even waiting to see if Teige followed.

“Lord Teige, what’s taken you so long?”

Too late, Maren realized Teige had directed their path to a group of ladies and young noblemen gathered in a small courtyard.

“I’m so sorry.” Teige took Kira’s hand and bowed over it. “I ran into Lady Maren and lost track of time.”

Kira frowned, which was just ridiculous. It’s not like Maren wanted to be there. She’d much rather turn around and leave, but her shoulder was beginning to hurt to the point of nausea, and she needed to sit down for a few minutes. She slipped through the crowd to an empty seat by Lady Surrey, one of the only ladies who was actually kind. Perhaps because she wasn’t pretty enough to be competition for Kira. Perhaps because her father was a very minor lord without enough power to make her a threat to anyone.

“Maren, are you all right?” Surrey asked. “You don’t look well.”

“I think I’m just tired,” she lied.

“Perfectly understandable,” Surrey said. Then she glanced towards the rest of the group and scowled. “Does Kira have to monopolize all the men? She already hovers over Lord Philip. Does she have to take Lord Teige, too?”

Maren actually laughed at that. “You’re talking about Kira. Of course she does.”

“Well, I think one of them should be smart enough to choose you,” Surrey said. “You’re First Lady, not to mention much prettier than Kira.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“It’s true,” Surry insisted. “That’s one of the reasons she hates you so much. All the boys were in love with her when we were growing up. Until our presentation, when you came into the picture. We’d all heard your name from the boys who were in your father’s class, but since you didn’t socialize with us, no one really knew you. That year, every single boy who’d had a crush on her now had a crush on you.” She giggled. “It provided the rest of us with some overdue satisfaction.”

Maren just stared. “But they weren’t all interested in me.”

“Oh, yes, they were. I’ll never forget the first time I really saw you. You walked into the presentation ball in that dress of cream colored silk with your hair loose around your shoulders. It was as if you’d just stepped out of a dream. I was standing right next to Lord Kaleb who actually stopped mid sentence when he saw you.” She smiled at the memory. “He made some comment under his breath that I couldn’t hear, but I didn’t miss Philip’s reaction. He was angrier than I’d ever seen him and warned Kaleb he’d better watch himself.”

Maren blinked. “But…but none of them ever even asked me to dance more than was polite. None of them did anything.”

“Because it was obvious to everyone that you only had eyes for Philip. And him for you. Which, I can assure you, made Kira as mad as I’ve ever seen her. Despite how they treat you now, and despite their petty jealousy, every single girl in that room loved you that night – just for putting Kira in her place.”

Maren knew Kira’s animosity towards her was because of Philip. She wasn’t sure she realized how deep it went.

Kira was certainly the center of attention now, like a flower with bees hovering for a taste. Maren wanted none of it. She was tired, she was in pain, and she was worried. She watched the others, who were all captivated by Teige. It was something she’d noticed a lot over the past few weeks. He asked the questions. He told stories that had everyone laughing so hard their stomachs hurt. It was as if he’d always been a part of the castle life. Even Daric and Adare, when they were present, were drawn in, perfectly happy to take a back seat to someone who was not only a hero but was able to make people forget the misery of the past few years.

Teige had found a place in the very heart of the kingdom.

In a moment of clarity, Maren realized what her true problem with Teige might be. Maybe he was exactly what he seemed. Maybe she was just jealous. Daric and Adare loved Teige. Philip trusted him more than anyone – even though he’d only known him less than a year.

Still, there was the pain. Which he probably didn’t even know he was causing.

She was a fool. A blind fool who couldn’t even recognize her own petty envy. Desperate to get away, Maren whispered an excuse to Surrey, and then slipped from the crowd. She’d gotten a few feet when she felt a hand on her arm.

Her shoulder exploded into fire and she sank to her knees, gasping for breath and fighting to regain control.

“Lady Maren?” Teige’s hands were on her shoulders, which only made things worse, causing her arm to burn and her body to shake. “Lady Maren, are you all right?” She couldn’t even tell if he sounded sincere, didn’t care. She just wanted the pain to stop.

“Maren!”

Surrey. Maren forced herself out from under Teige’s arm and accepted the hands Surrey held out. But she couldn’t stand yet. “I’m fine,” she finally managed. “I was startled by Lord Teige and tripped. I think I sprained my ankle.”

“Then you must let me escort you back,” Teige insisted.

“No.” She shifted just outside his reach and tried to keep the panic from her voice. “No, I can manage by myself.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help?”

Before she could move any further away, he grabbed her arm and she cried out and pulled away. Her shoulder felt as if he’d stabbed a knife through it. And it wasn’t like the pain she’d felt before. It didn’t fade to a dull ache. It spread down her arm and across her chest and back, as if it were burying itself deep into her body. She scrambled back out of his reach, but she couldn’t look away and knew she’d betrayed her horror.

He didn’t move to help her again, instead staring at her with raised brows, as if he’d discovered something that surprised him. No, not surprised him. Confirmed what he already knew. And by the way his lips raised the tiniest bit on one side, gave him some kind of satisfaction. Maren shivered, unable to dismiss the suspicion that he’d touched her that last time on purpose.

“Maren?”

Even though she registered that Surrey was calling her name, her gaze was locked with Teige’s.

“Maren!”

She turned wide eyes to Surrey but didn’t feel physically present, only aware of Teige’s scrutiny, and of the pain that had only subsided slightly.

“Maren,” Surrey said again. “What’s wrong?”

She blinked. “I…” She looked down, desperate for some explanation. “I think I might have hurt my ankle more than I thought.”

“Well, you don’t look good. Why don’t we walk you back?”

She shot a sideways glance at Teige, whose face was now a mask of concern.

“Yes, Lady Maren,” Teige came forward and she shrank against Surrey. “Let us make sure you get back safely.”

“No.” She forced herself to straighten, despite the pain, and stepped away from Surrey. “Really, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

She hurried away as fast as she could manage, making sure to mimic a convincing limp. It wasn’t until she knew she was out of sight that she collapsed onto a nearby bench and let fear overwhelm her.

Something was very, very wrong. Teige had power over her that he shouldn’t. And it was unquestionably more than a simple talisman.