If it were not my duty to serve the household, Kael would’ve insisted I remain in the back entirely.
Tonight, everyone was expected to keep the Stav comfortable with full bellies and drinking horns and portray House Jakobson as the most hospitable of hosts.
Together, we carried ewers and platters of Selena’s cakes and sugared rolls into the great hall.
I knew this day was loathsome for Kael, knew how much he detested stepping foot into the hall of his childhood as though he had not sat on his father’s left-hand side for a dozen summers.
“Avoid Ashwood,” he whispered.
“You believe me, then?”
Kael scoffed. “No. I think you are uneasy and have convinced yourself your scavenger was the Sentry, but he has a way of sensing craft in the blood. I don’t know how he does it, but keep a distance.”
“You’re saying this now?” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the handle of the wooden ewer tighter.
“I did not expect Sentry Ashwood to be here, or I would’ve made mention of it.” Kael offered a nod to one of the noblemen of Skalfirth, who returned a pitiful smile.
I closed my eyes, blowing out a long stream of air. “Fine. I’ll keep to the young Stav and survive their wandering hands.”
Kael’s eyes darkened. “I trained with the lot of them for six months, Lyra. They touch you, I’ll cut off their fingers.”
“Unless Ashwood cuts out my throat first.” I was being childish, but fear and frustration tangled like barbed vines, leaving me stepping about like a rabid hound about to bite.
Kael filled another horn, then faced me, voice low. “Why would Ashwood be rummaging through a goat cart? Better yet, why would he call you a liar, then leave you be?”
“You’re the one who knows him, so tell me.”
“He wouldn’t, thatiswhat I’m telling you. If Roark Ashwood knew about you, trust me, he would not hesitate to haul you off.”
“I saw the mark on his face where I struck him.”
“Lyra, he would’ve acted by now and I’d be feeding you through bars near the rack.”
My mouth pinched. I used the edge of my smock to scrub spilled ale off the corner of a table. “You never mentioned he does not speak.”
“He does speak.”
“I saw him, he uses gestures.”
“Still speaking, simply in a way that is not the same as us.” Kael lowered his tone. “You must swear you’ll let this go. Don’t draw his attention, Ly. Roark…he’s fiercely protective of Prince Thane. They treat each other like brothers, not guard and royal.”
“Like us.” I forced a smile, a pitiful attempt to lighten the tone, but feared it more or less shone like a grimace.
“Exactly.” Kael frowned. “Swear to me you’ll let this die.”
My shoulders slumped, but I nodded and made my way toward the back of the great hall where the youngest, rowdiest of Stav Guard were placed.
Laughter and chatter echoed over tables alongside the beat of rawhide drums. Sweet hickory smoke floated from a wide inglenook in the corner, hiding the scent of sweat and leather from too many bodies in one space.
Painted clay bowls and plates were set along the numerous tables, and fine horns foamed with honey mead and sweet wines. Vella sat at the right hand of Jarl Jakobson near the head of the long oak table, her silver braids coiled around a headdress of bone and briars. Kohl lined her eyes and lips, but her wool robes were replaced with blue satin.
The jarl was lost in his cups earlier than was typical.
I counted over a dozen Stav seated beside other Skalfirth lawmakers. The Sentry was placed next to Baldur. Without the cloak over his shoulders, Roark’s formidable form was easy to make out.
Before the Sentry could spot me again, I twisted away toward a table stacked in roasted meats, cheeses, and herbs. Through the feast, I kept busy, serving, cleaning, avoiding bawdy offers of Stav who promised to cause me to cry out in pleasure, and for a time worries over plums and deadly scavengers were nearly forgotten.
Selena chattered on with Hilda, a young wife of the local carpenter. Hilda; her brother, Edvin; and Kael were the only known bone crafters in the small village, but the siblings earned a proper living by using bone manipulation to craft whale and boar ribs into some of the sturdiest Stav breastplates and longbows.
