Page 12

Chapter 9 ~ The Truth of the Matter

Rígan

I wasn’t so sure about this.

The halls of Bailanín had turned constricting, shortening the space between me and Dàibhid, erasing the distance I’d maintained for years. Despite the cozy glow and cozier warmth of the fire in our new sitting room, the cushiony furniture and beautiful tapestries and shelves with an abundance of books and the nostalgia for what I’d left in Fenwald, I wanted to scream, even after Dàibhid left us to return to the royal apartments.

And then there was The Crown. The walls felt too close around me, urging me to burst out , toward the Leancormacs and the people who needed help. But I couldn’t go without Maya and Lou, and Maya couldn’t go, period.

So I’d wait here, down the hall from Dàibhid, on edge in every possible way. Stealing glances with Lou while we silently tried to determine when to tell Maya the bad news about our beloved bakery. Letting him hug me tight, because even though I hadn’t said it aloud since we’d left the brothers’ farm, he knew the mission failure was still getting to me. Deciding in hushed tones that we’d put off telling Maya about The Crown until morning, when she might be fine to accompany us in a wheelchair.

In the meantime, I had to put up with my friends’ excitement over the offer of permanency and try to decide how I could play off my reluctance this time.

“Do you see this bed?” Maya was sprawled on the one she’d claimed, limbs splayed like a starfish. It couldn’t have been good for her side. At least she wasn’t doing snow stars in the comforter. The very plush comforter, like the one I’d had in Bergspeer. The one I’d craved wrapping around myself for three years. Almost identical to the one now pulled taut on the bed I’d claimed—for now—one room over.

“It’s a nice bed.” Identical to the one in Lou’s room and mine—again, just while Maya was healing—it only took up a portion of the space, otherwise filled with shelves, a wardrobe, two chairs in front of a fireplace, and a small desk under the window. Everything was light and airy, welcoming like the rest of the castle, with touches of light greens and muted golds to add an extra touch of softness. I had to admit, it was a step up from our little house at the edge of the city, where drafty winter nights could get unpleasant.

I’d sat on the bed I’d claimed for only a moment while exploring. Between the comforter, the soft but firm mattress, and the knotted carvings in the four-poster frame, it was absolutely divine. I fell in love with a damn bed fit for a princess. But as soon as I had that thought, I’d shot up, stumbling on the thick rug.

“It’ll be good while you’re healing.” And then we can go back to our house by the southern gate . I didn’t believe Dàibhid had figured out who I was, but I wasn’t thrilled that each passing day would bring the possibility of him discovering my secret. Having Thomas’s identity discovered so quickly on our mission did nothing to help.

Maya sat back against her pillows with Lou’s help. When she kept wincing with the movement, I stepped forward to assist. She reluctantly let me, and said, “What about beyond that? What’s the hesitancy this time?”

I sighed, moving back once I knew she wouldn’t keel over. “I may be adaptable, but this is a major change. I like our job at the gate. I like our house and the routine.” I like the distance from Bailanín and knowing you and Lou will keep looking at me the same way you always have.

Lou patted the bed beside them, and I relented, taking a seat. “It’s a fine routine, but we can’t stay like that forever.”

“ You can’t stay like that forever,” I amended. It was honestly a miracle Lou had remained a sellsword as long as they had, what with their constant need for newness.

“You’re right, I can’t. I won’t. I love what we do, but doing this forever is not something I’m willing to concede to. But working for King Dàibhid? Being sent on missions who knows where? That I could live with for a while.”

“You have to admit, Rígan, you enjoyed yourself on our mission,” Maya said. I stared pointedly at her side. “Yes, I got stabbed, I’m still aware. And the end goal slipped through our fingers. That’s hard on all of us. But I saw your face. You loved interrogating those two at the tavern. Trying to solve the puzzle that the Keep has turned into. Working toward helping people. And sure, the gate job lets us do that, but nothing like this. And once the Exiles die down? Then what? Gate duty will be boring.”

I fell back, narrowly missing Maya’s foot. She nudged my forehead with it.

I laughed. “Don’t you dare push your dirty foot into my face.”

“Then think this through and see some sense,” she teased before sobering. “We can make a difference. I want to make one. I know you do, too.”

I chewed my cheek, mind wandering to The Crown. I closed my eyes, throat constricting.

“What is it?” Maya asked.

I stared at Lou. We needed to tell her.

She stubbornly wiped a tear from her cheek while I did the same.

“We were hoping to go with the king when he visits tomorrow,” Lou said. “The physician should let you go in a chair.” A tear fell down their cheek, and I wiped it away for them. Lou took my hand and Maya’s, holding fast. I knew we were thinking the same thing—what if one of us had been caught in that fire? It was too much to think about.

“She damn well will,” Maya said. “I’ll make you commandeer one and whisk me out of the castle like you’re stealing precious cargo and run me all the way down to the square if I have to.”

Lou barked a laugh. “Wouldn’t that be a sight.”

I laughed too, but it was cut short when I remembered why we were going to the square in the first place. “The Exiles are bastards,” I whispered.

“We can help stop them,” Lou said. It was gentle, like he didn’t want to push. It made my throat tighten more, for a whole new reason. “But if you truly don’t want to do it, we’ll figure something out. Alright?”

I shoved the tears down, tears I couldn’t explain to Lou even if I could explain them to myself. “Alright.”

The next day, right after lunch, the three of us followed far behind Dàibhid and his guards to Ardanna’s square, lest the public associate us together. People bowed, but the closer we got to the site, the less people even noticed Dàibhid was present. They were all too preoccupied with cleaning the area.

An area that made me stop short, causing Lou to slam Maya’s chair into my calves. They both gasped with me.

The spot where The Crown had been was nothing more than darkened timber. The worst damage had been cleared, but people sifted through the remaining rubble in search of possessions, equipment, anything that could be salvaged. The buildings beside it still stood, but the damage to their walls was extensive.

The Leancormacs stood off to the side of their ruined shop and home, faraway looks in their eyes. While they remained motionless, everyone around them did what was needed. A middle-aged grocer approached us, another staple to the square, their brow lined with sweat. They started to point us toward the rubble, but noticed Maya.

“If you two”—me and Lou—“don’t mind getting dirty, we could use some help digging through the wreckage. We keep finding personal possessions, and most of the folks have been working at it since this morning. Relieve a couple for lunch?” We nodded, and they turned to Maya. “We can use your help going through donations. Can I wheel you over?”

Once the grocer took over from Lou, the two of us made our way to the worst of it. We recognized most of the people, but some were unfamiliar. They smiled politely, but hastily turned away. Scared of people they didn’t know. A pang shot through me. I had to hope their fear was temporary.

Around us, planks still needed to be lifted, junk sorted from salvageables. Something soft squished beneath my boot, and I stooped to inspect it.

It was a doll, sooty from the ordeal. I brushed the worst of the dirt away, finding the fabric still soft to the touch. The dress might have once been pink, the wool hair perhaps blond. One of the button eyes was missing.

I sucked in a breath and clutched the doll, restraining myself from holding it to my chest. Was this one of the Leancormac children’s?

Or the child’s who didn’t make it.

“Rígan?” Lou said, tender.

Familiar anger eclipsed part of my sadness. “How can anyone endanger children, Lou?” I placed the doll in my bag, determined to deliver it to the family myself rather than let it sit for who knows how long in a sorting bin. “How can someone knowingly instigate something that may cause a child’s death? Surely they knew it could happen. Surely they knew the Leancormacs have children.”

Lou bent and snatched a piece of fabric. The dull threads might have been part of a shirt or a curtain. They placed it in a nearby garbage. “I wish I could say it wasn’t common, but it is. Comparatively speaking.” They walked through the wreck, prompting me to do the same. “I’ve seen it, heard tales of it, since I left Il Birrin. And every time, I find myself asking the same questions as you. It doesn’t get easier to witness. It doesn’t get less sad.”

I knew that from the tours I’d gone on, the stories my sisters would tell of the ones they went on without me. But I stayed silent.

“The good thing is, someone is always willing to help.” They pointed to where the Leancormacs stood. Dàibhid was with them. He wore no crown, no precious metals or stones. He stood tall, but his gaze was kind. Less a king and more a friend. The sounds around me fell away as I watched him.

Colm bowed, and Siobhan tried to curtsy around their two young children clutching her legs. Whatever Dàibhid said next had Siobhan close to tears. Before leaving the castle, we’d overheard Dàibhid and Cianán discuss a plan to offer the Leancormacs temporary lodging. Something about someone retiring from the royal guard and a room or two opening up. Maya had gotten teary eyed. So had Lou. Both happy that this could be the man they permanently worked for.

I hadn’t been surprised by Dàibhid’s plan. When we were children, he’d always talked about wanting to do something for people. Of course, I hadn’t known the extent, since I hadn’t even known he was a prince, but I’d always believed he would go on to do it.

I hadn’t felt happiness for my would-be boss when we’d heard his plan. I’d felt pride for my old friend. Pride I’d stifled before it could get out of hand.

Colm shook his hands in protest, politely turning the offer down. Dàibhid’s shoulders sank so slightly I wasn’t sure many people would have noticed. Saoirse came over with a basket of donations and stood beside her father. Dàibhid took it from her before removing a pouch from his belt, his guards following suit. Colm opened one, his eyebrows shooting up, Siobhan once again near crying, her face turning blotchy.

Saoirse threw her arms around Dàibhid’s neck with a cry once she’d inspected a pouch. He waved away the guards who tried to remove her, and clung to her fiercely, like he would do anything to protect her from further harm. I fought a swell of emotion, pride surging next to chest-tightening sadness. How many more families would Dàibhid have to console before this was all over?

“He’s a good king,” Lou said, and the sounds around us returned, grunts and tears and soft chatter. “A better person.”

I glanced down, needing to break contact with the sight. My entire body was too full of too many conflicting sensations. “He is.”

Lou guided me to keep working, this time in silence. Giving me space to think things through. I peeked at him for a moment while we pulled up a beam. He almost always looked so calm, at ease. Like he knew exactly what he wanted and who he was. Lou was a force, even if he didn’t see it that way. His surety was incredible. And standing here, working with me in silence, helped me find a bit of my own as my soot-stained hands pried pieces of lives aside in search of little pieces of hope. As Dàibhid joined the efforts on the other side of the wreckage, sleeves rolled up and soot finding his own cheeks like new freckles. As I brought the doll to the Leancormac children, and the youngest, Michael, the spitting image of his mother, sprang up and claimed the doll, cuddling it tightly. As the truth of the matter fell into place so suddenly, so forcefully, that I had to accept it.

I couldn’t go back to my old life, the one where I was comfortable in the city guard, watching a gate for trouble, while Dàibhid did everything he could to stop the Exiles before they could do more damage. Hurt more families. I had to help him.

It was enough to quiet my worries over Dàibhid discovering my identity. We’d gone this far without so much as a flicker of recognition; if I acted like I belonged—which I did—he wouldn’t question me. And we’d only work for him until the Exiles were dealt with. There was nothing preventing this from working. Besides, I liked a good challenge.

Michael placed his small arms around me, thanking me over and over again, and my decision was sealed.