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“Aye,” he says. “’Twas as MacKinnish said. He was hiding, coward that he is, in the back of the blacksmith’s shop. He refuses to confess to his part as one of the organizers of the attack.
The queen’s brother-in-law currently slumbers in Carwell’s dungeons.”
“And Lady Hilla?”
He frowns then, and I realize something is wrong.
“She will be discovered soon.”
“Discovered? I do not understand.”
Erik appears dismayed, with good reason it seems.
“She was spotted with him in Craighcebor but seems to have vanished.”
“Vanished?” My chest tightens. “Cettina must be so worried.”
“Worried? Nay, she is incensed. A search party has been sent out, and we will likely remain here until she’s found. Whitley was known to have kept her close, but the idea she accompanied him into Craighcebor . . .”
My jaw drops. “You don’t think . . . I mean to say, people do not think she was complicit in this?”
His eyes reveal that, aye, some think that very thing.
“Those who know her do not. But as you can imagine, the villagers were not very happy to learn of what almost happened there. Nor is the Merian constable, whose authority it falls under, so eager to exonerate her. And there is the matter of Whitley claiming he did it in his wife’s name, to place her on the throne. At her request.”
I gasp. That cannot be so.
“But surely, since you stopped the attack. And the queen loves her sister. Would she . . .” I know not what else to say. These are Merians we discuss. Edingham’s enemies. They already suffered one brutal attack, and a second was only narrowly averted. Will they so easily forgive a woman they thought may have been in league with her husband? Even if that woman is the queen’s sister?
“We will find her,” he says, smiling. The corners of Erik’s eyes crinkle as he looks down at me.
“I am here now. Lady Hilla will be found, and her husband tried for treason. All will be well.”
“I was so scared,” I admit.
When he kisses me, I can almost forget. But the throbbing in my temples reminds me of the stresses of this past day. I’m surprised I had even fallen asleep.
“Headache?”
I nod.
Releasing me, Erik lowers me back onto the pillow and presses his thumbs to my temples.
“Close your eyes.”
I comply.
As he circles his thumbs, I remember the last time my head hurt this much.
Erik chuckles as if he sees the memory floating through my mind.
“I still must show you how to start a fire,” he says, his body propped up next to me, partially covering mine. I smile, my eyes still closed.
“I was just thinking of that,” I confess.
He stops rubbing, so my eyes fly open.
“There is another remedy I failed to mention that day.”
