Tor blinked. Gods, what kind of person did she think he was? She’d spent too much time with Andred. “Wearegiving you a choice. There’s absolutely no way you can do this if you’re not completely committed. If you want to go back to the Temple at Eshcol, we’ll arrange for you to go. But you should know that you are likely our best chance at finally creating stability in our kingdom.”
“And that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Keely added softly, looking at Daena. “That’s what Andred told you he was working for all along.” Keely laid her hand on Daena’s arm. “The truth is that you did commit these crimes. You did actively support a revolution. This is your chance to make it right.”
“Gods and Angels.” Daena let out a long breath. “Can I think about it?”
“Absolutely,” Tor agreed. “But think quickly; we need to leave within the hour. And you’ll have to go back to your room under guard for now.”
He glanced over to Keely, raising his eyebrow, and she nodded back. This was their best plan. And she was with him—that was the most important thing.
The next hour passed in a frenzy of final arrangements. Tor and Keely would ride together, guarded by a small squad, leaving the carriage to continue north. Alanna had offered it to Keely, who had immediately turned slightly green and promised that she didn’t want it.
Keely’s trunks full of her belongings would be sent south after them. She would only be taking a few items that could fit behind her saddle and then borrow what she needed from Nim and Lucilla for the first few days when they got back to Kaerlud. Speed was their priority.
It didn’t take long before they were standing in the frozen barracks courtyard, the wind plucking at the dry leaves and rattling across the icy cobbles as they checked saddles and lengthened stirrups.
Everyone was there except Daena. Tor still thought she was their best hope for infiltrating Andred’s conspiracy, but he had meant what he’d said—he certainly wasn’t going to force her. He would use the long journey back to the palace to think of a different solution if that’s what it came to.
Alanna stood beside Keely, speaking softly, and Tor hesitated, wondering if he could join them or if they wanted privacy.
Keely chuckled at something Alanna said and then turned to glance over her shoulder, smiling when she saw him, and he made his way toward her. Gods. All he wanted was to have her close to him. She had kissed him in front of the others. He could touch her, couldn’t he?
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side, and she immediately softened against him. A stupid grin spread over his face, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. She was the only woman he had ever held in public.
Alanna passed Keely a bundle wrapped in waxed cotton and tied with string. “The kitchens made this for you. Oat and ginger cookies.” She gave Tor a stern look. “Please make sure she eats one when she wakes up.”
Keely huffed a disgruntled breath as he nodded his agreement, but her eyes shone as she took the parcel from Alanna. “Thank you, my friend, for everything. Please say hello to my mama for me. Tell her the news; she’ll be excited about the baby.”
Alanna smiled gently. “I will. And you look after yourself on the road, and especially in Kaerlud. We’ll be back when the passes clear.”
Keely folded her arms and gave Alanna a stern look. “You’d better not leave me there surrounded by Brythorians.”
Alanna laughed and winked at Tor. “Oh, I think you’ll manage being… ah… surrounded.”
Keely choked out a laugh, a deep blush spreading up her cheeks, and Tor couldn’t help laughing too. He had never imagined anything that could unsettle Keely.
She nudged him, hard, with her elbow, which just made him laugh harder.
The women said their final goodbyes, and he boosted Keely into her saddle, about to take his own, when Daena emerged from the barracks, led by a Blue guard, arms tied behind her. Her face was pale, but her chin was up, and the guard carried a small roll of provisions from the barracks for her. Tor dipped his chin, silently recognizing her decision and her courage.
He turned to the guard. “Thank you, we’ll take her from here.” The guard saluted and stepped back as Tor undid the ropes that had held Daena’s arms. He lifted his voice to carry to the group of guards preparing to join them on the road. “Daena, you are now in my custody pending your trial in Kaerlud. You stand accused of conspiring with the Wraiths and aiding them in their plot to overthrow Queen Lucilla.”
Daena’s face grew even paler, but she stood her ground. He turned to look at the soldiers who would be accompanying them and commanded sternly, “This woman is my prisoner. While she’s in my custody, I consider her my responsibility. Until she has been tried for her crimes and her fate decided, she is to be treated with all respect. I will take it as a personal insult if she is not.” He gave them a slow look. “I would also remind you that Ramiel, the Supreme Justice of the Nephilim, is her uncle.”
A few of the men threw worried glances at Daena, hopefully fully understanding the depth of trouble they would find themselves in if they didn’t treat her well, and he thought he saw her relax slightly.
Keely stepped closer to Daena, lowering her voice so only the three of them could hear. “You’re doing the right thing. Tor will find a way to keep you safe, I promise. You can trust him.”
Gods. Such a small sentence, and yet it meant the world to him that Keely had such faith in him. It filled him with warmth. And a difficult to name emotion… gratitude, maybe? Hope? Or something else?
He looked down at her, slowly realizing the truth. It wasn’t only gratitude and hope he felt when he looked at her. It was love.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Keely crawledonto the bed and collapsed face down onto the blankets, leaving her feet hanging over the bottom of the bed and enough space for Tor to lie down at her side.
The sun was low in the sky, just about to dip behind the battlements, and the room was pleasantly dark and quiet. Bard, she was exhausted, and her arm ached relentlessly. Four and a half days of hard traveling—through rain and mud, staying in dingy taverns and spartan barracks—had tired out even the toughest among them. And she felt like she’d fallen down a mountain.
But now, finally, they were back. Back in the palace, but in a new room. One with a sitting area, a screened-off bathing area, and a much bigger bed. Thank the Bard. A beautiful, huge, soft bed. Covered in pillows and cozy blankets. A bed for both of them. Heaven.
