She stared past me, her throat working as she swallowed whatever words sprang to her lips. When her gaze met mine, her eyes had gone silvery with the sheen of tears she’d never permit herself to shed. “We’re all growing further apart—have you noticed? Dafne is preoccupied with her pregnancy and translating for Kiraka. Ami is ensconcedat Windroven with her lover and the children—I’ll never pry her out of there.”
“And Andi?” I prompted. Of everyone, I knew Ursula missed Andi the most.
“More like our mother every day,” she replied, weary affection in her voice. “Of us all, she’s carrying the heaviest burden, so I do my best not to add to it. Everyone is devoting themselves to preparing for this war. We all know that Annfwnwill be where Deyrr attacks. And here I sit in Ordnung, doing nothing, far away from it all.”
“You’re hardly doing nothing.” I could only wish she’d do a bit less. “You wake before dawn and rarely go to sleep before midnight.”
She shook her head, studying her boots. “All meetings and talk, talk, talk. I’ve lost most of my Hawks to other duties—Jepp and Marskal off fighting the battles I usedto.”
I understood what she meant. She and I, both creatures of action, accustomed to leading from the front. But being High Queen meant she’d had to return to Castle Ordnung and direct strategy from safe inside walls. As for me, my Vervaldr had all been released from their contracts, some almost certainly returned to Dasnaria, while others were absorbed into Ordnung’s guard, or dispersed intoother parts of the troops we had amassed in defense of the Thirteen Kingdoms.
Though I’d taken over for the unfortunate Lord Percy, one of the first victims of Deyrr’s occupation of Ordnung and former Captain of the Guard, I had no real title or role. I wasn’t fool enough to believe that I could ever be more than Ursula’s unofficial consort, nor did that bother me. That was the nature of thevows I’d given her, to support her in any way I could.
That also meant keeping her safe.
“You’re needed here,” I told her, emphasizing what she already knew. “You’re too important to risk on the front lines of this fight.”
“I know that in my head. My heart is another matter.” She took a deep breath, uncharacteristic vulnerability in her eyes when she met my gaze. “Speaking of which, I didn’texpect you to disappear on me.”
The vague dread coalesced, sharpening into wary surprise that she’d say such a thing. “I’m right here,” I said, and turned her so she faced me, squeezing both shoulders so she’d feel it.
“Are you sure?” She studied me, emotion banished, all keen observation. “You haven’t been the same since my injury.”
Shocked, I let go of her, sudden cold numbing my fingersnerveless. The events of that terrible day flooded back in excruciating and vivid detail. The heat of the tropical sun and the pitch of the Tala ship beneath my boots, rocking in the gentle waves. The eerie silence and the sharp scent of blood, raw meat, and entrails spilling from Ursula when the High Priestess gutted her. How I stood there frozen, helpless, unable to move in the slightest. All thoseyears I’d built my strength, honed my skills, to make myself into warrior enough to protect the woman I loved and it had all been for nothing.
I hadn’t been able to protect Ursula any more than I’d been able to save Jenna. Fury and fear warred in me.
“Yourinjury?” I sneered the word, unreasonable rage firing in me that she could speak of it so casually. “Let’s rephrase for accuracy. You meanwhen you very nearlydied.” So pale and weak in my arms when she collapsed, her blood pooling on the deck around us. If not for magical healing, shewouldhave died there. For long moments, I’d been sure she was gone. And I’d been helpless to do anything about it.
A flare of unhappy triumph crossed Ursula’s face. She was too much the warrior not to be pleased with her accurate piercing of myemotional armor, and too much the woman who loved me not to be sorry about it. “I didn’t die.”
“It was a near thing…andyou’re still not totally healed.”
She opened her mouth to protest and I cut her off with a chop of my hand through the air. “Don’t lie to me,” I bit out. “You don’t have your former strength and speed. Your color still isn’t right, and you won’tgetbetter when you work yourselfto the bone and refuse to rest.”
“My kingdom faces attack from a two-pronged enemy, either of which could devastate us entirely on its own, and they’ve joined forces. I’ve been betrayed from within, I’m still new to my throne and utterly out of my depth. I can’t afford to rest.”
“I understand that,” I ground out. “But you can’t afford not to rest. If you don’t care about yourself, at least thinkabout the people who love you.”
“I love you, too,” she replied seriously. “Because of that, I’m suggesting that whatever is going on inside your head is getting to you. Normally you’re very good at leaving the past where it belongs, but lately you’re letting it eat away at you. You were the one to teach me that ignoring emotional wounds weakens us. If you won’t talk to me about it, then findsomeone else to listen.”
I scrubbed my hands over my scalp, willing my brain to kick in with a reply to soothe her. “I just worry about you is all,” I said. “There’s nothing else that needs discussing.”
“Like I worry about you?” She parried.
“No.” I called on the meditative calm of theSkablykrrthat had always served me so well, but couldn’t grasp it, my hand groping in the mental dark andcoming up empty. “That’s different,” I threw out, a poor defense and we both knew it.
“Is it?” she asked coolly, neatly knocking that aside and leaving me open.
I had no answer, nothing else to offer. She dipped her chin in wry acknowledgement, then shrugged it off. “You’re a stubborn man, Harlan, and I’ve got other things to do this morning than bash my head against this particular wall.”
She put her hand to her sword and took a few steps, then changed her mind and turned back to me, a certain resolve in the line of her jaw.
I knew that look well, though it usually meant she’d decided to draw a metaphorical dagger she’d hidden up her sleeve in dealing with a recalcitrant ambassador or courtier—and the strike of that hidden weapon would inevitably be devastating. Though I’d seenher use it on others, she’d never turned it on me. She’d softened me up, deflecting and tiring me, all in preparation for this particular blow.
She scanned the immediate area, checking that the guards still gave us privacy, making sure her battlefield remained clear.
I braced myself. This would hurt.
“I know about Jenna,” she said.
