His dark brown eyes focus on my face, every muscle frozen. “A renowned rebel sympathizer by the name of Kenna Gallagher was apprehended. There was to be a hanging held in the square, but somehow rebels appeared just below the Paramount plateau and broke through the brig walls with explosives.”
My jaw goes slack. “What do you meanappeared?”
Ren shrugs. “I’ve been told it was like… magic, Your Highness.” His voice wavers, then trails off.
“That’s preposterous.”
“I would say the same.” He gnaws on his lip. “There have been a lot of odd happenings, Princess.”
He could say that again.
My lips part, the question on the tip of my tongue, but I close my mouth forcefully. Ren raises a brow, and I scrub my hand over my face. With a harsh exhalation I tap the scroll against my open palm.
Ask, my inner voice prompts.
“Do you know anything about the Veilguards?”
I swear redness spreads up his neck. He clears his throat but doesn’t say anything.
“Sir Ren.” My voice comes out sharp and so authoritative that I surprise even myself.
“Your Highness, I took a vow. I cannot.”
I step closer to him, and he turns his face down to the ground. “Alright,” he says tightly. “Alright.” He breathes deep, his chest sinking in on the exhale as he lifts his head. “There are no Veilguards.”
My stomach drops. “What?” Surely, he must be delusional.
“The Veil was opened here at Paramount about a thousand years ago, right? But it’s been inactive for centuries. No magic. No monsters. All just… myth by now. So those who were traditionally conscripted for what used to be the Veilguards are… redistributed.”
My entire forehead hurts from frowning.
A muscle twitches in Ren’s cheek for a moment before he speaks again. “There are other clandestine positions within the Royal Brigade unknown even to us. But it’s all rumored. Some say they’re sent to guard another Veil elsewhere. Some believe they’re dispatched to the Wastelands, not for banishment but, well… to keep the banished away. Some say they’re simply…” He makes a line across his throat with his finger.
I blink at him, my jaw dropping.
“But again, it’s all rumored.” He raises his hands as though pleading innocence. “I have said far too much, and again, I’ve taken a vow?—”
“Ren, I promise I won’t say a thing. Thank you.”
CHAPTER 41
Durvla
Taig is alive.Alys overheard a few guards back in the brig: Rebels ambushed the Forayers escorting prison wagons to Paramount. Taig and a few others had been rescued, but Osheen had not. It was shortly before the attack on the brig and my arrest. Osheen hadn’t known a thing about Taig’s fate.
Leaving Paramount was surprisingly easy with a knight in tow; no one at the gate suspected a thing—I’m certain they’ll pay for that. Leaving Osheen behind feels wrong, but after Carys had already put her name on the line to ensure our escape, it was too risky.
Hours later, as we ride into Barr na Cahar, heavy drops beat upon the cobblestones, and our horses dash through intermittent puddles. We stop just on the outside of the city, in an area thick with bushes, as the rain subsides.
“We can’t stay still for long,” Kilkenny says after he helps me down from Ghendor.
The stallion huffs like he’s happy to be rid of our weight on his back. I can’t blame him.
My fingers are numb from the cold rain, matching my emotions. I nod at Kilkenny and rub my hands together, trying to get some sensation back into them after we all take turns relieving ourselves in the bushes and mount our horses again. As we set off once more, my head reels as the events of the past few hours catch up with me, coursing through my body like poison. I start to shiver, uncontrolled; so much so that Tiernan halts Ghendor, and Alys does the same with Mirren.
We dismount again, and for the life of me, I can’t stop the quaking that rattles my body or the nausea that makes my mouth water unpleasantly.
Kilkenny puts an arm around me. “What’s happening to her?”
