“You had an attack, didn’t you,” she said, and I shook my head.
The newest arrivals breached the summit, shining armor reflecting the sun in long rays. Eleanor grabbed my hand, squeezing tightly, offering me comfort despite my denial. I’d always done what I could to hide the worst of our past from her. The worst of my flaws.
Flags for every Torglea territory dotted the growing line in the distance. Yellow for North, green for South, orange for West and red for Central Territory. Only black for East was absent, since Lord Orcan was already here. Four men, one dressed in each color, separated from the procession, ambling down the hill to where Terym and Orcan waited, flags of navy and black with them.
The man in orange leapt from his horse gracefully. Even from here I could tell he was young, a wide smile gracing his boyish face when he bowed to the king. He reached for the man in red, offering his assistance to the elderly lord sliding from his horse. His hunched back betrayed his age and instantly told me who he was, Lord Kheal of the Central Territory. He’d been the closest adviser to Torglea’s previous king. A position Lord Orcan had replaced when Terym ascended the throne upon his father’s death.
The four men followed the king into camp until they disappeared among the canvas. Their long procession trailed after them, some stopping amid the field of flowers to set camp. The sight of the crumpled blooms battered my chest. They should not be disturbed.
“Do you think you’ll meet them?” Eleanor asked, drawing my gaze from the field.
“Maybe.” I had a sinking suspicion that I would; things must be dire if every lord had traveled to meet with the king. Whatever I needed to do to end the curse, I hoped I would succeed. I doubted it would go well for me if I failed.
“Let’s look around. Maybe we’ll catch sight of them,” she said, looping her arm through mine.
Wistari caught up to us as the excitement of the lords’ arrival died down and the crowd thinned. She and Meline took us on a tour of the camp, a quiet Pierce trailing behind us. The newest arrivals marked their own area, separated by colored flags, and set up tents in record time. The rest of the massive camp featured rows upon rows of tents. The triangular ones slept four or five soldiers each, and the few long narrow tents housed all the servants. I ducked my head into one before Wistari shooed us away, and I was glad my sister hadn’t seen inside—the sight made me sick. While Eleanor and I had a spacious and luxurious tent each, the servants all shared a low and overcrowded space.
The appalling conditions gave some insight into how the king treated his people, which only disturbed me more.
Wistari and Meline left us to our midday meal in my tent, and afterward, we wandered to the temporary kitchens. The area was busy with preparation of the night’s meals for the hundreds of men within the camp, several cooks and servants hurried between fires. A mountainous pile of dirty dishes from the midday meal waited to be washed beside large tubs of soapy water.
I looked from Eleanor to the tubs and smiled. “I’ll wash, you dry?”
She huffed and grabbed a cloth from a pile beside the tubs, eyeing me closely. “If you wet me again, I’ll hide your laces.”
I gasped in mock outrage, clutching a hand to my chest. “I would never do such a thing.”
“Last time, you destroyed my favorite dress,” she said, a grin spreading across her lips.
“It was too small for you anyway.” I plunged my hands into the soapy water, finding several dishes already soaking. Losing myself to the mindless activity, I handed each clean dish to my sister, who watched the hustle around us with interest.
After we had cleaned and dried every dirty dish, a lanky man approached, his lightly tanned face covered in scruffy stubble. The burns spotting his hands indicated he spent a lot of time in front of a fire or stove.
“Yer the ones the king picked up in Toreshire. The tavern girls.”
“Yes,” I said, drying my hands on the fine fabric of my skirts, the cloths we used to dry the dishes now wetter than the tub.
His gaze jumped between us, then he eyed the clean dishes before looking to me again. “Yer ain’t like those other simperin’ women.”
Chapter 5
My legs weakened at the implication of his words. “What do you mean?”
The roughened man shrugged, grabbing a stack of plates as he continued, “Been others since we been camped ’ere. Almo’ six months now.”
There had been other women who attempted to break the curse? If the king still needed me, it meant they’d failed to do it.
“How many others?” I bit out. I needed to know how they had failed so I wouldn’t.
Failure wasn’t an option.
“Lia?”
Meeting Eleanor’s wide eyes, I tamped down the panic that had surely filled my face. I forced a smile her way and rubbed my hands down my skirts again. “It’s fine, we should head back. It’s been a long day, and we’re both tired.”
“Miss Adelia!” Wistari’s scandalized call interrupted us. She hurried through the maze of fires and tables, navy skirts liftedto avoid dragging along the wet and dirty ground. “You can’t be doing that. You’re not supposed to be here. Neither of you.”
“They don’ mean no ’arm, Wista. No need to get yer ’air in a knot.”
