“I am sorry.” I take her weight against me, holding her upright as she collapses in sobs. “I wish he could be here for you.”
“All I have left of him is the scent, and it will fade.” Her words are garbled against me. “I need to go home before it’s gone, too.”
My shoulders sag at the grief in her voice. She’s been patient, and at first, I think I believed she would be fine. Many people adapt when their spouse dies, but theirs was a love match. Her grief is larger than I noticed until this moment.
“I will send theWächterto accompany you.” I motion for Clarissa to bring me a notepad. “I will get a message to them, and they will escort you. Several soldiers can garrison there, too.”
“We have our regular—”
“The beast killed Father, after it left a body at the manor.” I watch her face blanch as I speak, but there is no option beyond directness. “I will send soldiers.”
“The beast only has killed men,” she objects, voice softer now.
“In the park today, it attacked a woman.” I meet her gaze. “It has attacked me twice, Mother.”
“It . . . ?”
“Attacked me,” I say. “I am fine, Mother. I didn’t mention it, but I thought it was simply because I was the next in line to be Hunter. Then it attacked Emma Iversson today.”
“Is she well?” Mother’s hand goes to her throat.
“The beast tore her gown.” I pause. “Truthfully, I am not convinced that she was truly attacked by the same beast, or possibly at all. She thought Isabeau was the Hunter, and I think she was seeking attention. I cannot be certain.”
“But it attacked you. The beast that killed your father?” my mother asks. “If it was targeting the next Hunter, your sister—”
“Will be guarded as truly as the queen,” I interject. “As will you. If you want to go to the manor, theWächtersoldiers will accompany you. If you want to leave the grounds of the manor, do not. If we return to the city, we will be escorted.”
“Gabrielle.” Mother frowns.
“There is nothing that matters more to me than keeping you and Ry safe. I will find the beast, but until I do, theWächterwill patrol Brimmond Wood. They were already going to garrison at Fleuriste ... but I can station a contingent at the manor. Or”—I hold up a hand to pause whatever objection is coming—“you will stay here. I gave my word to Father that I would keep you and Ry safe.”
For a moment, I think she will continue to object, but she gives me a fond smile. “You are already adopting the Hunter’s less-appealing traits, Gabrielle. Even when you are controlling, I will still love you—and I will forgive you, just as I forgave your father.” Mother pats my cheek like I am a small child. “I will tell your sister to be ready to depart immediately.”
The urge to go with them to Fleuriste Manor wars with the need to attend the Chatham Ball. TheWächterwill guard my family well. Of that I am certain. My heart wants to leave the city, to protect my mother and sister, but I feel magic compelling me to stay.
I scribble a note to Nolan hastily and send it off with a guard I motion to me when I step outside. I stand there, pen and a second piece of paper still in hand, and weigh the possibility of sending my regrets to the Chathams. While the illusions that protect the Hunter exist, the tradeoff for that is that Queen Morag I—predecessor of our current queen—dictated that when the Hunter was said to be in attendance, the Hunterwould be there. Father thought it a foolish conceit, and I agreed, but after my brief exchange with the current queen at the archive, I now begin to wonder if there is more magic afoot in Alveus than I’ve ever realized.
Moments pass while I’m still standing with paper in hand, wrinkling it in my fist, when Nolan is already shown into the house.
“Hunter. I was near. So ...” He bobs his head in a respectful bow, as if reminding me that I am his commanding officer.
Wächtersoldiers serve the queen, but they are also the Hunter’s army if we call upon them. My father rarely did, but I am not as much a solitary person as he was.
“The countess and my sister will be traveling through Brimmond Wood.” I keep my voice low. “I need to know that your soldiers understand their importance.”
“They know, and I’ll be with them on the trip.” Nolan gives me a solemn look. “I won’t let a thing happen to your mum or sister. My word on it.”
I trust him. I always have, though our conversations have been fleeting and often impersonal. I feel like I have his measure. “Are you sureyouare safe? Neither a drinker nor a man about town.”
He guffaws. “Hunter, I am too old to be looking for anything but a good night’s sleep anymore. I read a bit. Sometimes, I have a larger than usual slice of a good pie, but ... my worst vice is more berries than a man rightly needs when summer rolls by.”
“And the others?”
“Mostly lasses. Cranshaw is the only other man. He wants to earn your praise after you tossed him on his arse in the park.” Nolan nods as if to himself. “The man swears he has no vices that will make a risk, and of course, both Lowell and Anders have vetted all the rest. Good soldiers, they are.”
“Anders and Lowell told you about the woman in the park?”
“They did. Two attacks on you, one on another nob, and then three men murdered,” Nolan summarizes.
