He nods, then claps me on the shoulder. Beside him, Molly says something quickly, then dashes off.
Elayne smiles, and it’s kind. “She rather desperately wants to find something for your face.”
I frown, though it’s still stinging. “She doesn’t have to.”
“Ah, let the girl mother you,” she says. She sets down her satchel and tells everyone else to go back to their meals, because we have to work.
It takes me a moment to realize I understood every word she said in Emberish.
Still, I say, “Today? Really?”
“Everyday. The faster you learn, the quicker you can have these awkward conversations on your own. Did you write down any words you understood yesterday?”
Right now, the only word I can think of was Sephran calling Niall a jackass. “Ah, no.”
Elaynetsksand pulls a book from her satchel. There’s a small sketch of a calf and a lamb on the cover. “Fine. We can read.”
I blink and think of the battle from last night. Blood was in the air, and soldiers were dying around me. I thought I was going to die. More than once.
I woke up this morning thinking everyone was going to hate me.
I stare at the cover, but I make no move to touch the book. I have no idea how I’m going to focus on any of this.
Elayne leans in, and her voice drops. “Sometimes it’s best to just keep moving forward.”
And that’s enough to make me pick up the book and turn to the first page.
The forge is busier than usual. On most days, Master Garson has two or three of us shoeing horses while everyone else handles other tasks, but today, there are five. I’m not sure what’s changed, but it must be related to the attack from last night. There’s a different energy in the air. A nervous tension. I listen to the gossip while horses are being shod, and I’m able to piece together that more soldiers are being sent on patrol. Maybe more guards around the palace grounds, too.
For the first time, none of the soldiers are short with me. No one knocks my crutches into the dirt. No one mutters about the trash from Syhl Shallow or spits on the ground.
I hope to see someone I know, Sephran or Leo or even Kutter, but I don’t. Maybe they’ve been ordered out on these patrols themselves.
At the end of the day, the forge has fallen quiet, and I’m ready to pack up my tools, but a young woman leads a large buckskin gelding to my spot. She’s not in armor, so I don’t think she’s a soldier, but her arms are lightly muscled, so I’m not sure. She bears a scar across one cheek that looks like it was caused by a knife, and she’s limping. She’s not too much older than I am, with blue eyes and thick curls that are bound back from her face.
I have no idea who she is, but it’s been a long day and I’m tired. Sweat has been stinging the claw marks on my jaw for hours now. I stoke the heat in the forge and turn my attention to the buckskin.
“New shoes?” I say automatically in Emberish. “Or lame?”
The young woman seems to startle, then looks a bit amused, then says in perfect Syssalah, “Neither, actually. I came to see you.”
Now it’s my turn to startle.
“I’m Harper,” she says.
Harper.Princess Harper. Betrothed to Prince Rhen.
I’m frozen in place. I don’t know what to say. I practically have to jab myself with a hot pair of tongs to force a word out of my mouth.
“Sorry,” I say in Emberish, which is ridiculous, because she clearly speaks Syssalah. My thoughts won’t organize, and for a moment, it’s like I forget myownlanguage. I have to shake myself. “I—forgive me. Your Highness.”
“No, Harper is fine. I’ve been dying to meet you since you got here, but Tycho said you were a little overwhelmed by . . . ?well,all of it, which I can completely understand. Then Rhen told me you had words so I thought . . .” She hesitates, then winces. “Well, I thought I might be unwelcome, as well.”
Her mention of Prince Rhen sends an icy chill through my heart. She’s so earnest, though. Her Syssalah is effortless, too. Much better than the prince. He speaks like he’s reading from a book, but she seems as fluent as Tycho.
I haven’t said anything, but maybe that coolness reaches my eyes, because her expression shifts, and she’s evaluating me with a bit more regard.
“So Iamunwelcome,” she says.
