The second he was out of earshot, Astin shoved Harlan. ‘Don’t you have new recruit arses to wipe?’
Harlan only laughed as he walked off in the direction of the training yard.
Wallis, the kitchen maid, blinked in confusion. ‘You want the whole jar?’
Lyndal stepped past Wallis to where jars of fermented cabbage sat in a neat row on the bench. ‘Four jars should be enough.’
‘Enough for what, miss?’
‘Yes, enough for what?’ came a stern male voice.
Lyndal almost dropped one of the jars as she spun around to meet Astin’s thunderous stare. She found a smile for him. ‘Oh, there you are.’
‘Here I am.’ He crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.
‘I forgot to mention that I’m an early riser,’ she said, placing the jar she was holding back on the bench.
‘So am I’ was his rather unhappy reply. ‘If you wanted to visit the kitchen, you should have sent the defender on duty to fetch me, or at the very least had him accompany you.’
‘To the kitchen for some cabbage? That seems a tad dramatic.’
Astin reached her in a few strides, his tall frame looming over her. She made a point of not stepping back.
‘This castle was attacked a few hours ago.’ His voice was a growl. ‘I thought you were supposed to be the sensible sister.’
She was very aware of the height difference in that moment. ‘Iamthe sensible sister.’
‘Then follow the few simple rules in place for your safety.’
Conscious of Wallis frozen in place watching them, she said, ‘If I apologise, can we move on?’
‘Spare me the empty apology and just do as you’re told next time.’ He finally stepped back from her.
‘Very well,’ Lyndal mumbled as she turned away from his glare to face Wallis. ‘Might you have a basket?’
The kitchen maid glanced nervously at Astin before walking to the other side of the room to fetch one.
The defender picked up one of the jars and turned it in his hands. ‘The queen’s carriage will be out front in half an hour. Where’s Lady Kendra?’
‘Dressing.’ Lyndal took the jar from him and placed it in the basket. Looking down at her blue dress, she asked, ‘What does one wear when accompanying the queen mother to visit the sick?’
He stared down at her, not speaking for an unsettling amount of time. ‘Are you seriously asking me for fashion advice?’
Rolling her eyes, she brushed past him. ‘Forget it.’
‘Lyndal,’ he called after her.
She stopped and turned back to him with a tired expression. He looked very uncomfortable suddenly.
‘That dress is elegant and practical,’ he said. ‘It’s a fine choice.’
The corners of her mouth lifted. ‘Was that really so hard?’
Astin followed the carriage on horseback, through the gate and into the lazaretto borough, located in the heart of the kingdom. Kendra sat opposite Queen Fayre, discussing the dire food situation in Ireland, trying to sound worldly. The queen mother’s silence was a solid indication the strategy was not working.
Lyndal was by the window, holding on to her basket of cabbage, seemingly tuned out of the conversation. Her gaze was fixed on the rows and rows of graves, many of them fresh in that part of the borough. He knew her father and brother were buried somewhere—as was his own father. He made a point of not looking, because the visual of his father’s grave never seemed to get any easier.
‘What do you think, Lyndal?’ the queen mother asked, pulling her into the conversation.
