“We do not know that,” replied Runný, though even she did not sound entirely convinced.
Oh, what Silla wouldn’t give for it to be Rey’s warm chest against her back. With his sturdy presence and his unfounded confidence in her, the impossible somehow felt within her grasp. But by now, Rey would be in those monster-infested woods, risking life and limb for the innocent people in this realm. Clearly he was far too busy to write.
Gradually, Silla’s tears had subsided, and she’d allowed herself to be led to her bed. But the moment Runný had left her chambers, Silla had slid out and returned to the stack of books.
This morning, desperate to banish her fatigue, Silla had consumed far too many cups of spiced róa. Rather than curing her exhaustion, the drink had only added a restless, buzzing sensation on top of it. She stared vacantly at a knot in the oak table, her mind a maelstrom of thoughts. A figure standing over her, a knife clutched in hand.Queen Signe sends her regards.Myrkur’s satisfied smile.He tried to harm us.Which was truth? Which was imagined?
Silla’s head jolted up. As her pulse jumped wildly, her gaze swung around the room. Had she fallen asleep? How much time had passed? But the hearthfire behind her still crackled away, joined by a soft knocking at the door.
She pushed to her feet. Her head spun, and she gripped the high back of her chair to steady herself. Runný opened the door, granting Lady Tala entry. At the sight of her mentor, Silla braced herself for Tala’s admonishments for ransacking Jarl Hakon’s grain stores and venturing into Kopa.
“Your Highness.” Tala dipped into a quick curtsy before striding to Silla and pulling her into a motherly embrace. It was a surprising breech of protocol from the older woman, but Silla leaned into the hug, closing her eyes. “Thank the gods above you are unharmed,”said Tala, smoothing a hand over her hair in a maternal gesture. “Ingvarr told me everything.”
Silla’s head swung up as she tried to gauge how much Lady Tala knew. Only Jarl Hakon and Silla’s inner circle knew about her mother’s bargain with Myrkur.
“That the despicable old warrior attacked you,” Tala clarified, studying her face. “That it was a miracle you escaped with your life.”
Silla pulled back and turned her palms up. No trace of blood. No cuts. No hint of the violence these hands might have delivered. But Lady Tala pulled her hands between hers and squeezed them gently.
“You must have been so very frightened.”
Tala’s words were a balm to her heart, filling Silla with the sense that she had all the answers and knew just how to make her troubles go away.
A god lives inside mewas on the tip of her tongue.
“I know precisely what must be done, Eisa,” said Lady Tala.
“You do?”
Tala nodded, gesturing for Silla to take her seat at the table. Numbly, Silla obeyed as Tala waved a pair of servants in. They removed the remnants of Silla’s daymeal and placed a fresh bowl of porridge before her.
“First, you’ll eat.”
Silla’s stomach lurched, and she clutched it. “I cannot.”
“You willeat.”
The motherly tone of Lady Tala’s voice—the kind that left no room for argument—was strangely reassuring. Silla could almost hear her foster mother’s voice in her ear.The grains for this porridge were harvested and threshed and sorted, Silla. You must not take this labor for granted. You must be grateful for food when so many go hungry.
Reluctantly, she lifted her spoon to her lips. Thought of her mother’s soft hums. The sizzle of grains in a knob of lard. Somehow, Silla managed to swallow.
“We must forget yesterday ever happened,” Tala said as Silla took a second bite. Her voice was firm. Decisive.
“But it did!” Silla could still smell the blood in that room, could still feel it on her hands—
“Do you wish to unite the north, Eisa?”
“Yes,” Silla answered without pause.
Tala watched her carefully. “Think of how a scandal such as murder could damage your reputation.”
Porridge churned in Silla’s stomach as she considered it. Right now Rey and Hekla fought foes in the west. Jarl Hakon mustered men from all corners of the kingdom. Everyone was counting on Eisa to unite the north. This washerresponsibility—there was no one else.
“Perhaps,” mused Lady Tala, “we could tell it differently. It could draw sympathy were it your guard who did the killing.”
Silla shook her head vehemently, but it only seemed to muddle her thoughts further.
But Tala was already waving. “Runný, come here.”
