“They came for her last night, before the audience. I was drawn to the ruckus, for she put up quite a fuss. She fought them,” Rosalind said, a tinge of admiration in her voice. “Gave them what-for with her cane, hollering at the top of her lungs.”
Orval snorted. “Not surprised by that.”
“I tried to stop them,” Rosalind continued. “But all they said was ‘Queen’s command’. They got the cane away from her and poured something down her throat. It had to be letheon.” Rosalind took a deep breath. “They hauled her off and fool that I am, I followed, protesting, and found myself locked in with her and informed that I now had the ‘honor’ of being your Steward.” Her voice grew bitter. “Queen’s command.”
“Bastards, to treat you so,” Orval shifted so that Aunt Xydell’s head sagged on his shoulder. He tucked her cold hands under the fur, seeing bruises on her wrists.
“Much the same for me,” Roth said. “Although it was my own men.”
“Not all,” Yfin piped up, a great grin on his face.
“Not all,” Roth agreed and gave Orval a wry look. “My youngest recruit, it appears.”
The boy just kept grinning, the edge of the cloak just over his head.
“And what are you grinning for?” Roth asked.
“Warmer now than I was,” Yfin said cheerfully. “And with ya.”
Roth shook his head. “Not sure that was the smartest choice, lad.”
“Old lady said—” Yfin protested but Roth cut him short.
“Queen Mother Tithanna said you should be trained by me, not follow me to some gods-forsaken wilderness.” Roth said dryly.
“Tithanna?” Orval asked.
“Aye,” Roth looked down at his hands. “We were the last to see her, before—” he stopped and swallowed hard.
“She didn’t—” Orval started but Roth was quick.
“She didn’t,” Roth said. “Don’t give it another thought. She was defiant and intended to endure. That she didn’t has to be laid to another’s hand.” Roth rubbed his face. “And to me, for not protecting her.”
“She gave you orders,” Rosalind pointed out. “And who would have thought…” her voice trailed off and they all sat in silence for a moment. “They didn’t even give her the rites, just said a few prayers as they shoved the coffin into the crypt.”
Orval cleared his throat. “Queen Tithanna was a true Daughter of Xy, for all that she was of House Wyvern.”
“She told me, she did, to follow him.” Yfin said. “His sword has honor, she said.” He lifted his chin with youthful defiance. “So I did.”
“Such loyalty should be rewarded,” Amari said warmly. She reached overhead and produced Winter’s basket. “Here.”
“Ooh,” Yfin said as he dug in, then held up and offered about what was left of their breakfast. Orval was impressed that the lad was willing to share, though he was clearly hungry.
Roth waved the food off and shrugged when Orval caught his eye. “I was informed I was promoted to your Weaponsmaster,” Roth said. “Stripped of my own weapons and held secure until I was escorted out to the carriage.”
“Better than disappearing.” Rosalind said bitterly. They lapsed into silent despair, for what was there to say?
Orval leaned back, shifting so that Aunt Xydell seemed a bit more comfortable. He was just as glad she slept. She’d be sure to have cutting words for all of them, and he didn’t want to hear that. But then shame replaced the relief.
He caught a glimpse of Amari, gently smiling at Yfin, watching him eat.
Orval’s heart clenched.
He’d failed Amari.
He dropped his gaze down to the stupid cape and plucked at the fur lining. He’d promised her, assured her, and he’d failed to keep her and the babes safe.Over by the next feeding, he’d said, so smugly that the memory made him sick.
His eyes fell to the baskets where his babes slept. The weight of his failure settled in his chest. He’d failed them as well, although there was still a chance one of the marcusi would appear. It would just take time. Hopefully not more than they had.
