Kyne nodded. “That would explain the attacks,” he said. “Now your wife’s father is sending you a panicked missive for help. Mayhap his friend did indeed go back on his word.”
Roi wasn’t sure about any of it. “Robin certainly came to Lioncross without a care in the world,” he said. “I never got any sense that he was concerned about anything, but then again, I did not spend any length of time with him. But Diara did. She said her father was behaving oddly. She found him going through the things in my father’s study.”
Kyne’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
Roi shrugged. “I could not tell you,” he said. “I forgot about it, in fact. I did not even tell my father what she told me.”
“Then mayhap it was nothing more than a curious old man.”
“True,” Roi said. “That is what I thought.”
Kyne gestured to the missive. “What are you going to do about that?”
“There is nothing else I can do but answer the summons,” Roi said. “Tell Adrius. The two of you can muster about half of my army, and we’ll ride to the southern border of Cheltenham’s land and see what is happening between him and Cirencester. We’ll head to Colesborne.”
“Right away, Roi.”
“And we should send word to my father and tell him what has happened,” Roi said. “Send a messenger to him immediately and relay what was in Robin’s missive. Tell my father that I am already moving out.”
“It shall be done.”
With that, the two of them parted ways. Roi was just heading up the steps of the keep when he heard his name being shouted, and he turned to see that the blond horse was being delivered. The merchant he’d haggled with was bringing the animal in through the gatehouse, leading it proudly. Finnick appeared on the steps of the keep, and Roi sent the man out to settle the horsewhile he continued inside to inform Diara of the situation and pack his belongings.
At this time of the morning, the keep was cold and smelling of smoke from the fires that had burned out overnight. Roi was nearly to the top of the stairs when Dorian suddenly bolted past him, nearly knocking him backward. When she realized the body in the stairwell was her father, she leapt on him, her arms around his neck as he held his balance and tried not to fall back down the stairs and take her with him.
“Papa!” Dorian shrieked in his ear. “I saw the horse in the bailey! You bought her!”
Roi patted her on the back. “Aye, I bought her,” he said. “I was going to surprise you, but clearly, you have already seen her.”
“The sentries woke me and I looked outside!”
“Then the sentries spoiled the surprise.”
Dorian didn’t care about any of that. She kissed him loudly and firmly on the cheek. “I love you, Papa!” she cried. “Thank you, thank you!”
She kissed him again, twice more, smacking him on the nose the second time in her haste. But she was giggling, gleeful, and frantic to see her new horse. She released her father and ran down the rest of the stairs far too quickly as Roi stood there and rubbed his nose where she’d hit him. But he felt good that he’d made her so happy. He hadn’t done much of that during her young life. With a grin, he continued up the stairs and into the chamber he shared with Diara. As he opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to find her up and dressing already.
“Good morn, angel,” he said as he shut the door behind him. “Did you sleep well?”
Diara looked at him, smiling as she ran a comb through her hair. “You should know,” she said. “You spend all of your time watching me. How did I sleep?”
He chuckled as he went over to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her sweetly. “It looked to me as if you slept very well,” he said. “And I will not stop watching you even if you tell me to, so save your breath.”
She giggled, pulling from his embrace and heading over to her dressing table. “I would never tell you what you can or cannot do,” she said. “But watching me sleep is going to become quite boring after a time.”
“Never.”
She sat down in front of her table, setting her comb down as she opened up one of the several boxes on the table. “Have it your way, then,” she said. “What do you have in your hand?”
Roi looked down to see that he was still holding the missive from Cheltenham. He’d been so caught up in the joy of seeing her that he’d nearly forgotten he still had it. He lifted it up.
“This is from your father,” he said. “The messenger arrived early this morning. It seems that Cirencester is making trouble for him and he is asking for help.”
Diara stopped what she was doing and turned to him. “Cirencester?”
“That’s what he says.”
She stood up from her chair and went to him, taking the missive and reading through it carefully. When she came to the end of it, she began shaking her head.
