“You know, Lady Maeve lost a child,” Quinn said to the former queen, his eyes narrowing. “This provides a fair exchange.”
“And what will we do for the next starving child?” Adelaide asked. Already, food was being brought to the mother, and she broke into dry, hysterical sobs. Her son looked on, confused by the whole ordeal. “The money you just gave away could have purchased wheat for a hold.”
“A hold isn’t standing before me begging for the lives of its children. As far as next time goes, I don’t know whatweshall do, butIshall always give them what I can,” Quinn answered firmly. “I don’t see myself having kids of my own. Perhaps I, too, should consider adopting. Maybe I’ll take in a hundred children.”
Nicolas drew closer to his friend. His brow furrowed with confused anger, like he’d been left behind somewhere in the conversation. “What are you thinking, Quinn?”
Quinn exhaled through his nostrils, folding his hand behind his back. “I could ask the same of you, Your Majesty.”
A statement devoid of deference. I drew a shallow breath, watching Nicolas’ jaw as it worked.
Then, the mother spoke up once more, bowing as she did. “I… I cannot thank you enough for your kindness. But let me impart you with this: don’t go to Molehill. It is lost. You must ride straight to Greene and take no more breaks.”
I brought up my hands. Lady Maeve translated: “What do you mean bylost?”
“The few who remain are opportunists,” the mother replied. She nudged her son toward us, and he looked at her with round, wide eyes. He shook his head, and she whispered something underher breath to soothe him, dropping to her knees. “It’s all right, little one. Do you remember honey and jam?”
The boy only stared.
“Well, they’ve got it,” she promised, and baskets of food arrived for her from Lord Halston. “They’ve got lots of good foods to fill your belly. You’ll be smart, and strong, and you’ll have great adventures. When we meet again someday, you’ll have slain dragons and trolls, and you’ll be wearing armor of pure gold. And you’ll be so loved, all the way.”
Lady Maeve touched the boy’s shoulder, and too easily, he slipped away from his mother, ever enticed by the precious offerings. I watched him go into the crowd, hardly minding the tension between the Callans and the viscount. The mother took out a loaf of bread and looked at the shadow of her child, and then she let him go.
Chapter 41
The hell we’devaded in Molehill was entirely absent in Greene. Though it was managed from afar by Duke Minnick, the whole city operated in perfect concert. It rivaled Caermont in size but lacked that distinct foulness in the air, and while it wasn’t in an especially strategic geographic location, the city and surrounding fields were protected by impenetrable walls. The people here were distinguishably plump, and after so much suffering, I figured the duke was either doing something very right, or very wrong.
Winnie rushed to accompany me, those brown eyes wide as she took it all in.
“You know, I came here as a little girl, once,” she recalled, eyes settling on a gorgeous temple. There was no forgetting that sort of architecture. “I believe that was when I first met the duke. I was five or six, so he must have been…ten?”
“Did he yearn for you then?” I asked her while my husband wandered off. It had been a tense ride since I’d taken up for the starving woman, made worse by my suggestion that opinions other than his mother’s were allowed to exist, and thattechnically,he and I both overruled them.
Winnie made an odd face, folding her hands behind her back.
“Do you suppose I should marry him?”
“Has he asked?”
“No, I believe he’s afraid to. The duke is a…timid man.”
I tilted my head. “Do youwantto marry him?”
Winnie watched him from afar, greeting the people of his city as if they were all friends. It was a distant look, but not especially contemplative.
I wanted to say she needn’t ask my permission if she wished to be with him, and that if she did not see him in that way, I wouldno longer press the issue…but something in her tension told me it was better to remain quiet for now.
Two crows watched us from the red rooftops, then shifted their attention behind me. I turned, spotting Taran Banewight and Sahra Doonle as they walked the cobblestone road, alive and unscathed.
Nicolas returned to my side and called, “You’re back! What news do you bring us, Banewights?”
Taran closed the distance before he spoke. A shadow fell over Sahra’s gaze, deepening as Asli ran over with childlike excitement. “The witch will trouble Thornmarsh no longer.”
He produced a small burlap bag and handed it over. Nicolas opened it, retrieving a long rope of brown hair, braided and tied off with a lilac ribbon. I touched my own hair reflexively, stroking the braids Winnie had woven into it. I imagined it severed for proof of my own death, tied off in crimson.
Nicolas dropped the lock.
“Don’t worry. There’s no lingering magic,” Taran said, bending to pick up the keepsake.
