Her blush deepens. “You . . . ?you don’t need to come every week.”
“If he promised, I will.”
“No, I’m certain you’re very busy.” She glances at her husband, who’s still staring at us, and is quite ignoring the baby who’s chewing on the lacing of his shirt. “And I really don’t think Adam’s heart could take it.”
Saeth scowls. “Leah.”
The little girl slips forward and holds up her arms to me, as if she wants a hug now, too. Saeth sighs and reaches for her. “Ruby—”
But I catch the little girl under the arms and pick her up, and she wraps around my neck only alittletoo tightly. There are gasps among the gathered crowd, and I’m not surprised. I don’t think I was ever hugged by a child as Prince Corrick.
Tessa smiles. “You’re going to end up getting hugs all over Kandala.”
Saeth sighs again. “And a knife in the ribs, if this keeps up. Your Majesty—”
“Really, Captain,” I say to him. “I rather doubt I’m in any danger from your daughter.”
“No, but I—” Then he stops short at what I said. His wife gasps. Even Thorin snaps his head around. But he smiles.
I look at Mistress Saeth. “Would your husband’s heart be able to take a promotion?”
She breathes in. Glances at her husband, and then back at me. “Yes. Yes, it would.”
I turn back to Saeth. “It would likely be terrible in the beginning. There is much work to be done, still. But the hours would be better.”
“It would take me out of your personal guard,” he says.
“I know,” I say. “But if I am to rebuild, I need to do it with people I can trust. The position is yours if you want it.”
“Yes. I do. Thank you.”
I glance at the few guards who’ve traveled with me. “Salute your new captain, gentlemen.” When they do, Thorin reaches out to clap Saeth on the shoulder.
I turn my head to look at the little girl. “I’m afraid I need my neck back now.”
She giggles, and a little more of the tension around my heart eases. When I set her down, I realize that more of a crowd has grown, and I look beyond them to take in all the tents and structures that have been built to hold the people who fled here from the Wilds.
Thorin has drawn open the door to the carriage. “Back to the consul’s manor, Your Majesty?”
I look at the dark interior, considering everything that’s waiting for me. Again, I wish for moonlit paths and the mask so I could be an outlaw instead of a king who has to lock himself away for endless meetings and arguments and interminable loneliness.
But then I realize I don’t need to wish for anything at all.
I reach out and take Tessa’s hand. “No,” I say to Thorin. I look down at Tessa, then brush a kiss along her knuckles. “It’s a beautiful morning,” I say to her. “Would you care to go for a walk?”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Tessa
As the weeks pass and the air turns cooler, Corrick and I walk among the people every day. We’ve visited every sector, spending days on the road, and at every opportunity, we leave the confines of stuffy meeting rooms, and instead choose to talk to anyone, of any status. Often we’re joined by Lochlan and Karri, or Olive and Ellmo—who seem in no hurry to return to Ostriary. There are still rumors that King Harristan was conspiring with Consul Sallister to poison the people, but word has spread that the king and Palace Master sacrificed themselves to stop the poisonings and save all of Kandala, so as time passes, Harristan is viewed as a hero in most people’s eyes, not a traitor.
People are less certain of Corrick, because of his reputation as King’s Justice. At first, people look at our guards and keep a safe distance—but it doesn’t take long for rumor to spread that their new king is at ease among the people.
A more potent rumor is that their new king was once anoutlaw who secretly helped the people because he was powerless to stop the corruption in the palace. This one seems to stick and grow. They love the mystery of it. He’s confronted with it all the time.
“Is it true, Your Majesty?” someone will whisper. “Were you an outlaw?”
Sometimes he’ll pretend not to hear, and he’ll just give them a wink. Or he’ll pull me close and say, “No more an outlaw than my beloved Tessa.” When the inquiries have an edge to them, Lochlan will often scoff, “Why would a spoiled prince be an outlaw?”
