Lore stopped to help a woman pushing a cart full of bread, shanks of meat, and rounds of cheese, taking it from her and guiding it to where she'd set up a stall. As she joined him, he tugged a pouch from his pocket and handed her coins, speaking to her in a low voice, probably telling her to give everything away, that he'd more than cover the cost. From our own personal coffers, I’d bet.
I spotted a man wrestling with a sagging beam at the edge of his stall, his brow furrowed as he worked to maneuver the new support post into place with one hand, his shoulders trembling under the weight of the beam overhead.
I rushed his way. “Let me help.” Reaching up, I steadied the beam, lifting it slightly while he rushed to grab the support post and maneuver it into place.
As he secured it, his eyes flicked to me, and I read how tired he was in the creases on his face and around his eyes. He exhaled, dipping his head forward. “Thank you.”
Behind me, footsteps approached. I turned, catching theapproval in Lore’s eyes as he paused at my side. He didn’t speak, only placed a hand against my lower back, where he gave me a quick stroke. “You belong here. More than you realize.”
Heat pricked the back of my neck, and I nodded.
He moved off to help others while I rushed to help the man carry another post from his cart and helped him add it to the building.
Surren and the rest of my guard hovered nearby, scanning the area for threats.
I flicked my hand his way. “Don’t stand around me. Go help someone.”
Surren’s brow narrowed before he spoke with the others. They split, rushing to assist where they were needed the most while Surren strode over to work on the stall with me and the man.
“I’ve got it from here,” the man finally said, stepping back to look at the repaired stall with pride. “Go help others and thank you again.” His hand landed solidly on my shoulder. “I’d heard things…” Color suffused his face, and his gaze shot to the cobblestone street. “Nasty rumors that are clearly untrue.” When he looked up, steel filled his eyes. “I won’t allow anyone to speak badly of you in my presence.”
“Thank you.” With a crooked smile, I left him to help someone else.
Pain etched my people’s faces. The city had suffered. Crumbled walls, patched roofs where homes had been scorched, and too many marked by grief. Families hovered near pyres, their shoulders hunched.
They'd dragged the borgon carcasses to one area, and they burned too, a pyre built by angry villagers and rage.
I crouched down where a group of children had gathered near an overturned cart, pulling scorched bricks from the wreckage ofwhat must’ve been someone's home. Sweat clung to their foreheads, streaking paths through the dirt on their cheeks. They worked with surprising determination, but the jagged edges of crumbled masonry made me flinch for their safety.
“Here.” I gently took an enormous, sharp-tipped slab from a boy no older than eight and laid it on the growing, neat pile nearby. “You’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful.” I pulled a strip of cloth from my pouch, wrapping it around his palm in a makeshift glove. “Protect those hands; we’ll need them.”
The children paused, their wide eyes on me as though seeing me for the first time. I met the gaze of an older girl who seemed to be leading the group. She straightened, crossing her arms on her chest. She was clearly defensive, though curiosity lingered in her eyes.
“You’re organizing this?” I asked her.
She gave me a curt nod. “We want to help too. Don’t tell us we can’t. This is the second crushed building we’re sorting through.” She waved to a large mound of stones nearby. “We’re clearing the rubble so a new one can be built.”
“I wouldn’t think of telling you that you can’t help. We need everyone to set our city right.” Admiration for them tugged at my heart. I motioned to the rubble around us. “It’s a wonderful idea, but first…” I rose and strode over to a villager pushing a cart full of tools and supplies up the street from the waterfront. “Do you have gloves, aprons, or anything I can give the children to wear to protect them?”
“A few pairs of gloves.” His frown shot to the children watching us silently. “Lord Briscalar brought all sorts of things from the castle, and we’re grateful to him for it. You too,” he hurried to say. “It’s not common for a queen to…” He must’ve realized what he was saying could be taken as criticism, because he placed his palm over his mouth before his hand dropped to his side. “Wait here? I'll be back.”
“Of course.”
As he scurried back down the street toward the harbor, the children whispered. Soon, the man returned with gloves and a few leather aprons, handing them to the older girl to divide up among them. He left to take his cart farther into the square while I showed the girl how to keep the younger ones safe while working, teaching them to sort salvageable materials from debris so they could separate what could be reused for repairs from what should be discarded. How to avoid being too close to a wall that might collapse.
“Stack anything worth saving together with the rest. Rubble can go in a cart for the mason to grind or dispose of.” I righted a cart that didn’t appear horribly damaged.
One of the littlest boys looked up at me with his eyes glinting with tears. “Will this bring back our homes?”
“New homes, but yes.” I stroked his light brown hair and wiped the tears from his face. “Every piece you save will help us rebuild faster.” I left them to find Lore. “Many are homeless.” I swiped my hair off my face, probably streaking soot across my cheek, but that was the least of my worries. “They need housing now.”
“I spoke to Briscalar about it already, telling him to send those who don't have shelter to the castle. We’ll make sure we find a secure place for every one of them.” He lifted his leather tunic up over his head and held it out to me.
Taking it, I frowned, unsure why he'd handed it to me. He removed his soft undertunic and started shredding it into strips he added to the pile near the healers, holding only one back to dip in the water at the central well. He returned to delicately hold my face while he gently washed it clean.
After stroking his chest and returning his leather tunic to him to don again, I hurried over to the children with a fresh idea in my mind.
I crouched back down near the older girl, her sharp gaze darting between me and her group of children. She reminded me of a wary nyxin defending its pack. Smart. Careful. Protective. That kind of instinct couldn’t be taught. It had to be earned the hard way. She was so much like me when I was growing up as an orphan at the fortress. Always look out for the younger ones, someone once told me. They’re our future.
