It’s loaded with food: fresh bread baked into small rolls, a pot of steaming stew, and a jar of preserved berries, along with four flasks of water.
“There’s a tap for fresh water in the bathing room,” I say. “But this water will contain sugars to help with dehydration. Never drink water from any other source and especially do not chew ice. All outside sources of water must be boiled before you can safely drink it.”
Thyra wastes no time taking a seat on one of the pastel-pink chairs. She chooses the one facing the front door, theone I would have chosen if I’d planned on sitting down, but she pauses when I take myself back to the door, where I lean up against the wall once more.
She gestures at the food. “Won’t you eat?”
“Once you’ve eaten.” I’m already listening to the sounds outside. Nara’s breathing. The distant scuffling sounds as the staff retreats along the stone path.
“What are you listening for?”
“Everything,” I reply. “Right now, Nara’s breathing tells me she’s calm. The staff is walking away along the stone path. The palace grounds are peaceful. But that can change very quickly.” I focus back on Thyra. “I don’t think I need to remind you to be on your guard even when the world feels peaceful.”
She shakes her head. “You certainly don’t.”
I believe her. She’s quiet, but that means she’s paying attention. I’ve sensed it since she regained her strength back at the Alak-Teah. She anticipates danger at every turn. In fact, she expects it.
As she loads up her plate, she says, “When I’ve eaten, I can stand guard. My father and I used to take turns watching each other’s backs in new places. We’d also take turns staying awake at night. You and I can do that too.”
She focuses back on her food without waiting for my agreement, and I let it slide.
I won’t wake her tonight. She needs as much rest as she can get.
She eats cautiously, first drinking water, then tucking into the stew and bread, but she takes deep breaths between mouthfuls, as if she were pacing herself. I’m not sure when she last ate. It’s already early afternoon, so it could be approaching twenty-four hours for her.
Every sigh she makes sounds joyous.
Simple pleasures.
After her last bite, she rises quickly and gestures to the table. “Your turn.”
Sweeping past me, she takes up position on the other side of the door.
I accept her gesture.
As I eat, I stop between mouthfuls, taking a longer break when a distant commotion draws my attention. Just a scuffle between soldiers. The guards outside the palace wall quickly break them up.
I resume eating, conscious of Thyra’s scrutiny.
“What were you listening to just now?”
“An argument over bread.”
“Between the staff?”
“No. Two soldiers outside the palace wall.” I resume eating with a brief wave. “The guards have moved them along.”
Thyra’s quiet, her eyes squinting a little. She must be trying to hear it too.
She gives a shake of her head. “How far away can you hear?”
I give her a smug smile. “Far.”
“Why were they arguing about bread?”
I consider the food on my plate.
Another cruel truth about my kingdom.
