“Are you missing your family back in Lockwood?” he asked.
She walked past him and sat on the large rock. Hugging her knees, she wrapped her cloak so tightly around her huddled body that she looked like a tiny boulder. Only her eyes were visible. She nodded.
“Do you have brothers or sisters?”
She shook her head. “I always wished I had. My mother named me Ro... Wren because I was a sign of life, born in the dead of silverreign.”
“Do you miss your parents?” Ian asked, sensing a deeper hurt behind her story.
She nodded once again. The small goose waddled closer to her, dropping its head under its wing and settling in for a nap.
“Will you go back to them when greenreign comes?” he asked, wanting to see her happy instead of sad.
She looked up at him then, her eyes squinting against the frosty air. “My parents were—are—very poor. Lord and Lady Lockwood did all they could for their tenants, but it was never enough. For three seasons, our crops have frozen in the early frost. Yet, we still pay taxes to our king—your father—who lives here in ease and luxury. What is he doing to aid the lives of those under his protection?”
Ian nearly stepped backward at the force of her words. He’d heard the reports from their outer holdings, but he had not expected this sudden turn in conversation. “Our crops here have been failing as well,” he began, fumbling over how to defend his father. “I mean, we are not unaware of what is happening, and we have been sending aid as best we can.”
The two eyes staring at him from the bundled cloak were unimpressed.
“There is more going on, you know. We have all of Iseldis to think about. The Majis are returning in thirteen years, and we need to be prepared for their magical attack. Do you think it’s easy gathering an army that is both large enough and skilled enough to deal with magic when no one in the five kingdoms has seen magic in nearly one thousand seasons?” Ian could hear the slightly angry defensiveness in his own voice and hated himself for it, but he did have a point to make. They were not ignoring the suffering of those in their care. “My father is both generous and just. He’s been cutting down the tax burden on all the holdings and shouldering the difference himself for what Iseldis is required to send to Chendas.”
She opened her eyes a touch wider at that, as though it was news to her. “Why does he not forgive the taxes completely for a few seasons? My people have been working themselves to starvation so that my father—and Lord Lockwood, I mean—can support your father. They have sacrificed food from the mouths of their children, yet you are here planning a feast!” She gestured toward the unsuspecting geese happily floating on the pond.
“We are not perfect, of course,” Ian responded, trying to channel his father’s gracious attitude rather than let her accusations annoy him. “But we are trying to build and support a viable army, such as Iseldis has never needed until now. It’s not like we can suddenly triple or quadruple our numbers two seasons before the Return! If there is to be any Iseldis at all for our future, we all need to be making sacrifices so that we can be stronger as a kingdom.” He inhaled, proud of the work his father was doing.
“Perhaps,” she said, pulling the cloak away from her face, “it would behoove you to focus on the here and now instead of draining our resources and peoples on the distant future. Focus on what you can actually change. Perhaps by strengthening your whole country instead of just the army, we could find a way to stand against the returning Majis—together—when the time comes.”
Ian exhaled. She had a point. Turning, he sat next to her on the rock. “How would you suggest we do that?”
“I don’t know, entirely. Lord Lockwood stopped requiring taxes from his tenants when it was clear they could not afford it. Instead he asked for them to give what they could. Our people responded with more generosity than he expected. Perhaps you could discuss a similar model for the outer holdings who have had these weather-induced struggles.”
Ian nodded. He could at least talk to his father about it. “And perhaps I could speak with Lady Lockwood as well. She might have more insight on how her father handled the situation. You seem to have had a great respect for him.”
“I did.” She drew the cloak up again, hiding her face. “And, if I had a little sister, I would make sure her Silverfest was perfect. You can give her a ride on Humphrey if you think she’d enjoy it.”
Ian wanted to wrap his arm around the small girl and comfort her. She was quickly becoming his favorite person to converse with.
“Do you think she would enjoy that?” he asked.
“Unlike horses, donkeys do not scare easily at all, so they are perfect for beginners. They are also small, so she’ll be less scared.”
“Thank you,” Ian said. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
Chapter 12
Robin sat cross-legged on the four-poster bed, waiting. This time, she would not fail.
While the palace would never be her beloved Lockwood, at least she now knew she could help to make a difference for those back home and at any other holdings still struggling. Ian had proven himself to be gracious and conscientious, and even if the king refused to listen to her, at least she could continue to show the crown prince an alternative viewpoint.
A small spider dashed across the bed. Maybe the young princes had gone through with their plan? Robin smirked.
The door opened.
“Hello, Lind,” Robin said casually. “Remember me?”
“Ohh! Robin!” Lind replied, her jump of surprise quickly replaced with a broad smile. “What a silly thing to say. I’ve missed you ever so much!”
“Have you?” Robin inquired, stepping off the bed.
