Page 161 of To Touch A Silent Fury

I scowled at him. It could not be so. Lang had decried the invasion. That had tomeansomething.

My husband only stared. “We are going on a sweetmoon, immediately. It is a tradition respected by the Five.”

“We’re running away,” I summarised.

“We are taking a royal tour of the Triad,” he corrected. “And when we get back, we can only hope my family has decided not to put both our heads on spikes.”

“I don’t see how that will help anything.”

“You wanted to change the world,” he said, pointing a shaking finger at me. “If you mean it, then we start by talking. Barrow’s Rest made good coin selling armour to the thane. King Markus will want me dead when the word spreads, and I’d rather the ruler of the Tastelands hears it from me. Your words, whilst noble, have become a noose I need to escape. And if you do not help, you will hang alongside me.”

Hanin snaked around my legs in a figure of eight.

Lang dragged a chair to the table and sat heavily. He dipped a quill in the ink, starting to write something I couldn’t make out from here. His words had flipped something in me. The situation was bleak, I knew that, but somehow I had thought its consequences would extend only to me. As a prince, I thought he would be protected from it all, above the law. It seemed he did not think so. Had I condemned him too?

“I could find Braxthorn,” I said, hesitantly. “Change his mind.”

“What? For the span of a minute, and then kill him from the headache?” Lang spat. “You’d have to hold my aunt’s hand at the same time, to prevent a dagger from plunging into your back. And wouldn’t that be nice? The three of you, holding hands whilst you try to change the world. Certainly, no other guards would think to get involved.”

I shuddered as his words hit again and again, tearing holes in the idea with the precision of an archer. He was right. I couldn’t go out there and force their emotions into submission. I could kill them, or worse, they would kill me. Tensions were too high, Derynallis suspected too much.

“When do we leave?” I asked shakily.

His quill paused in the air, then he resumed. “As soon as you’ve changed.”

I swallowed. “What about Seth?”

“His treason was nothing compared to what you just did in there. WhatIjust said.” When I did not move, when I only waited, he rubbed his head with a groan. “He will not hang for his crimes. He may be lashed, and he may never advise a soul again, but the boy will live.”

My relief was stunted by a knock at the door. It was only Theollan, holding a bowl. He came in, his head ducked, and placed the bowl on the table. I could have named the ingredientsfrom the scent alone. “Willow bark and rosehilt, with musk oil. For your temples.”

Lang said nothing, only glaring at me over the table.

Keeping my eyes on my husband, I thanked the Brother and asked if he could wait for me outside. Theollan ducked his head and left the room once more.

Lang returned his quill to his paper, ignoring the bowl entirely. I watched him write for a few sentences, listening to the rhythmic scrawl of the nib against the paper.

I picked up Hanin, holding him to my chest as he wriggled. “I never meant to use you.”

Finally, he looked at me again, placing the quill down by the paper carefully. There was nothing left of the love I had seen in his scaling, swirling red eyes. He shook his head. “And yet, you did anyway. And now, we’re stuck together. Maybe my father was right. Maybe loyalty is just a lack of other choices.” The detachment hit me again like a punch to the gut. “I’d like you to leave now. Meet me on the landing roof in one hour with whatever supplies you can’t live without. We can only hope Braxthorn has been distracted by fixing your mess and isn’t presently tearing every room apart to find us. I’ll leave him a note. Don’t get caught.”

There was no room for argument. I had made my choice, and in making myself, I had broken us. No amount of kind words nor golden filigree would repair how I had used him.

I nodded once, my eyes shining with tears, then I turned and opened the door. Only the warm bundle in my arms reminded me of what I was fighting for.

At the door, I turned to him, falling into a stunted curtsy. “Your Grace.”

I don’t know why I did it. I just wanted him to look at me once more.

But when he lifted his head, his face was bored, and his eyes were dead. “Tanidwen.”

41

Tani

“Princess, allow me to escort you.”

Theollan walked beside me as I returned to my rooms for the final time, my skirts heavy and my mind exhausted. If we ever returned, I would either share Lang’s room, or we’d share an executioner. I wondered which of those choices he’d rather take right now. Thankfully, the foyer was empty aside from a handful of guards, who made no move to stop me.