‘Prince Raleigh treats me kindly,’ I said evasively.
‘He doesn’t hurt you?’
‘Never,’ I said, surprising myself to realise this was true.‘He’s … tolerable.’
‘Tolerable?’Yann’s voice lifted an octave.‘You were abducted by the man who killed my parents and now you’re trying to tell me he’stolerable?I didn’t even know if you were alive, Clara!’
My heart welled.I’d spent so long wondering what happened to him, it never occurred to me he would wonder the same about me.But of course he would; he’d never heard any word from the castle.‘You never got my letters?’I already knew the answer, but I’d clung to the smallest gleam of hope that it was his replies Raleigh had burnt.That Moira hadn’t simply handed my one connection to the outside world to him to burn.
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Yann’s expression.‘You wrote?’
That flare of frustration, now so familiar to me, rose again.I pinched the top of my nose, forcing it down.‘I tried to.’Yannwould only worry more if I told him the truth.‘We have issues with post up on the mountain.The couriers are … superstitious.’
‘Superstitious.’He tutted, his bound arm jerking.‘Why are you suddenly pretending we both don’t know exactly what he is?’
Of course.He knew better than anyone.Putting aside our frequent childhood speculations, he’d watched Raleigh kill the wolf.Had his bones crushed by Raleigh’s inhuman strength.‘Did you know he hypnotised us?’Yann asked.‘We were halfway to Castle Rostenburg when he found us.’
I dropped my head.‘I know,’ I admitted.
Yann sighed.He placed his hand on the crook of my shoulder and I closed my eyes, leaning in to his touch.His thumb traced the cusp of my throat, brushing aside the high collar of my blouse.It was loving, gentle.Until I realised he was checking for marks.I pretended not to notice, but his lack of trust lodged deep in my heart.
I gave him my most innocent smile.‘How have things been here?’I asked, changing the subject in the vain hope that there might be some good news.
‘Better, actually,’ Yann said.‘Your father managed to secure decent supplies in Triz soon after you left, and they’ve managed to irrigate the fields again.No one will be feasting anytime soon, but we think the autumn harvest will be the best in years.’
‘And nobody …’ I didn’t know how to ask, nor did I think I wanted the answer.
Yann’s face clouded.
‘Do you remember Clarence?’
My heart gave a sickening thud.Clarence was a year younger than us and had lived a few doors down from me when we were children.There weren’t many children our age in Orlfen, so Yann and I would play with him often.He had two older sisters, and though Yannteased him for it, he’d taught me the names of all the flowers and how to braid them into my hair.After his father died in the same raid on Castle Rostenburg that had claimed Yann’s, Clarence and his mother moved further down the valley to live with his surviving grandfather.We still saw him from time to time when he visited his sisters in Orlfen, but more often than not Yann met with him alone.
‘Not Clarence?’I whispered.
Yann shook his head.‘His wife.’
I didn’t know that Clarence had married.Yann said it like I should have known, but no one had ever bothered to tell me.I often missed out on the news circulating through town, unless Yann or Johanna told me, but I didn’t think he ever neglected to tell me things like this; he always said he thought I knew.
‘How did it happen?’I asked.
‘She’d been sickly ever since their son was born last year.’So Clarence had a son too.That would have been nice to know.‘Clarence thought she was getting stronger, but two weeks ago he woke up and found her dead.’
My pulse quickened.I already knew the rest of this story.
‘Her blood was drained.Every drop.Someone came into their house at night and bled her dry.Someonemurdered her.’
Yann’s snarl swam before my eyes, but all I could see was Raleigh drinking from his goblet, night after night.Every night I’d forced myself not to think about where blood was coming from.Now it had a name, a child, a husband.I’d seen Raleigh lick the remains of Clarence’s wife from his fangs, and all I’d done was look away.
Surrounded by luxury, embraced in his false niceties, it was easy to forget that the Raleigh I had come to tolerate was the same Raleigh who had brought us so much grief.He was the one who’d built the dam.He was the one who’d drained our loved ones.He was the one who’d destroyed Orlfen.
He had never deceived me and yet I felt strangely betrayed.I’d fallen for his act, even though I’d only ever watched from backstage.My home was here, with Yann, with other humans.Not in the nest of a monster.
‘Do you still think your husband is tolerable?’Yann’s words cut into me like a dull blade.
‘He’s not my husband,’ I muttered.
Yann blinked in surprise.‘You haven’t married?’
