Winter waited for him to swallow then spoke, her tone flat. “Queen Mother Tithanna was interred in such haste, they didn’t even pull the dagger from her heart.”
Amari closed her eyes and offered a soft prayer.
Orval froze, staring at his food. “She wouldn’t have done that. She’d never have done that, killed herself. She was too old, too tough, too—” Orval snorted softly. “Too strong, truthfully.”
“Be that as it may,” Winter said, some of the clean dishes clattering as she stored them away. “She’s dead and buried, and it was done in haste and with little honor.” She looked over her shoulder at them. “Eat.”
“I don’t think I can.” Orval said. Amari nodded. Her own stomach was lead.
“There’s worse to come,” Winter said. “Force it in if you have to, but you need to know what’s happened in the last ten days and I’ve not much time.”
“Ten days? Orval’s eyes widened as they met Amari’s. Amari shared his disbelief. She dropped her eyes to her plate and then forced herself to take another bite. Orval followed her example.
Winter settled at the table, her own mug of kavage wrapped in her hands. She wasn’t as calm as she seemed; Amari noticed her knuckles were white.
“Lord Jazan was executed for treason this morning. His lands and assets seized.”
Amari’s heart grew heavier in her chest.
Orval set his mug down, his lips pressed thin. “Lady Jazan? Their sons?”
“Their sons were both killed on the field.” Winter’s voice was dry and matter-of-fact, grating to Amari’s ears. “Lady Jazan has fled. Other supporters of the Airion House have fled as well, or been imprisoned, and their lands and coin forfeit.”
“I have no lands,” Orval said.
“No,” Winter agreed drily. “You have the newest generation of the Blood. Healthy twins, of which your Captain Ussin has made their Majesties very aware.”
Fear gripped Amari, fear that was reflected on Orval’s face.
“But there is soon to be another,” Winter said. “Queen Satia is pregnant.” She huffed as she took a sip of kavage. “Odds are it’s not Xyrath’s. For all his cavorting in his youth, never once heard that he got a woman pregnant. Loyal to Satia, I grant him that, but he’s a poor breeder.”
Orval sputtered, coughing. “Winter!”
Winter ignored him. “The King holds revels in celebration as the cold creeps in, and now there is talk of raising taxes to pay the good warriors who fought for the throne.” Winter’s lip curled. “Which no one believes, but all will have to pay.” She looked up at the darkening windows. “I best get back. We’ll open soon enough for the evening hours.” She stood, leaving the mug of kavage on the table. “Orval, more people will come to aid you, for all that you have done for them. Accept their help, don’t be foolish. I’ll slip out quietly. You can bolt the door after the babes wake. Finish your food.”
Amari watched Winter go, leaving the door ajar behind her. She reached for her kavage and found Orval staring at her. “Ten days?” he asked. “How did we lose ten days?”
“Exhaustion,” she said glumly. “Babies. Honestly, Orval, I had no idea. It’s all been a blur since I fled—”
“The marcus,” Orval sat up straighter. “Ten days and the marcus has not returned.
I thought he’d be back by now, to spirit you and the babes somewhere else, somewhere safe and suitable for babies.” He stared ruefully down at his plate. “I also thought it would be easy caring for babies. It’s not like they would wander about and disrupt my stacks of books. A few days at best. How bad could it be?” He looked up at her. “Feel free to roll your eyes at my stupidity.”
Amari stared back as a bubble of laughter rose up in her throat, and the next thing she knew they were both laughing giddily, though with a hint of desperation. She wiped her eyes and reached over the table for Orval’s hand. He covered hers with his long, warm fingers, still laughing. When the fit passed, they both held their breaths, waiting to see if the babies had roused.
“You are so good at this,” Orval whispered. “I’d thought I’d killed poor Dalan.”
“I helped raise my younger siblings and cousins,” Amari explained.
“A large family, then?” Orval asked.
“Yes,” Amari pulled her hand back, not wanting to explain. “We’d best finish eating.”
Orval’s forehead puckered, but he drew his hand back as well. “It was only my sister and me, and we were fostered at an early age.”
“Fostering? That is not done where—” Amari paused as a wail cut through the air.
“I’ll go,” Orval stood. “Eat.”
