The gravity of those words weigh down on them both. On all of us. There will be a time for Saeth to know, and likely a time for me to know—but it’s not right now.
Little Ruby leans against her father’s legs, fiddling with the laces of his boots while we rattle along. She’s glanced my way several times, and I try not to think about the fact that she very likely watched everything we did, including the way I collapsed in the mud, my hands pressed into my eyes while I cried. I have to look away.
Sommer sits bound and gagged in the corner of the wagon. We put a cloak over his shoulders, the hood up, so his features are in shadow. If anyone sees us, no one will notice unless they get close. He seemed genuinely terrified in the clearing, but Lennard looked determined. So was Wadestrom. I need to know who’s been talking to the guards, what’s been said, what’s been threatened.
But right now, there’s just . . . ?too much.
Francis is keeping his word, and he’s watching Sommer like a hawk. Nook is on my other side, his arms wrapped around his belly like he’s trying not to shiver. Or maybe like he’s trying not to cry. I think his father was among the men who didn’t make it back onto the wagon, and I’m afraid to ask. I wouldn’t know what to say. Everything Icouldsay would sound too hollow. I know from experience.
Maybe all the silence is too much to bear, because the little girleventually abandons her father’s boot laces and begins to edge through the straw toward me. Saeth immediately notices and says, “Ruby. Stay with me.”
She frowns, but I say, “It’s all right.”
Emboldened by this, she shifts forward until she’s sitting on her heels in front of me. Until these last few weeks in the Wilds, I haven’t had much exposure to children since I was one myself. Aside from the fact that she’s not a baby and she’s not a teenager, I’m a bit startled to realize that I truly have no idea how old she might be. Three? Five?
However old she is, her blue eyes are surprisingly cool and assessing as she regards me. I suddenly feel like I’m being confronted by one of the consuls. “You made Mama cross,” she says.
Leah gasps. “Ruby.”
Saeth swears under his breath. He’s already rolling onto his knees to snatch her back. “Ah—Your Majesty—”
“Your daughter may speak her mind.” I glance from the little girl to the woman who’s finally looking at me with guarded eyes. I don’t know what they’ve been through before tonight, but I know they didn’t deserve any of it.
My eyes flick back to Ruby. “I’ll do my best to make it up to your mother. And to you.”
“And baby William,” she adds solemnly.
“And baby William. I swear it.”
“And my da.” She points. “His name is Adam.”
“Ruby,” Saeth says.
But I nod, because she’s being so earnest. “Your entire family. You have my word.” I look to the others on the wagon and take a slow breath. “Truly, I swear to all of you.”
Ruby scoots closer and peers up at me. I wonder what I looklike. My clothes are filthy, and I can see mud caked in my knuckles. My face is surely a mess.
“I saw you crying,” she whispers. “Are you very sad?”
She’s so young, and the words shouldn’t pierce me like an arrow, but they do.
Yes, I want to say.Yes, I am.My breath catches—once, then twice. It’s a miracle I don’t start crying again this very moment.
At my side, Nook puts his face down against his knees, and a small sob breaks from his throat. It’s clear I’m not the only one.
“All right,” says Saeth. “That’s enough.” He scoops Ruby into his arms, and she squeals in protest, but he kisses her on the forehead and says something quietly.
She wraps her arms around his neck and nods, then looks at me over his shoulder. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“You’re welcome, Ruby.” I look at Saeth, and I have to hesitate. My chest tightens again, and my voice feels dangerously close to breaking. I have to wait to make sure it’s steady. “Adam, I truly will do my best to make it up to you.”
He shakes his head, then settles back into the straw beside his family. “You already did.”
But Leah’s eyes flick up, finding mine in the moonlight. She says nothing, but the message is clear.
It might be true for her husband, but it’s not true for her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
