Most of the servants and staff choose that option these days. Gold means nothing when there's nothing to buy.
I nod to a few of my soldiers as we survey the area, but there doesn't seem to be any conflict. Whether that’s due to our presence or that the refugees are too tired to worry about anything but getting food into their bellies, I'm not sure. None of the villagers were in a good state even before more refugees came to Yregar.
“Is there a healer who can come down here? Maybe I'll speak to Father about sending you one. Some of these people could really do with medical assistance.”
I stare at Sari again, surprised by the hesitance in her voice as she looks around at the crowd. The smallest glimpse of empathy shocks me, but it also feels like a victory against the regent. She might not fully grasp the situation we're in, but it's good to know that her father's scheming hasn't ruined the soft heart inside her.
Not yet anyway.
I do my best not to choke on the words as they come out. “I doubt your father will want to send Volene here for villagers. He’s the king's physician, after all.”
The high-fae healer is older than the entire Unseelie Court combined, and he knows how to wrap a bandage and clean a wound, but there’s nothing he can offer the people here. He’s been one of my uncle’s supporters from the beginning and, while he doesn’t have a seat on the court, the healer is adept at twisting the truth to work in his own favor.
Sari doesn't notice my struggle to keep my tone from being too dismissive, and she frowns at me, her voice dropping as she says, “Do you really have no one here that can help them, though? Father is in good health, I'm sure he could send him for a few weeks…just until everyone is back to normal after this tragedy.”
I hesitate, weighing the price of the truth versus deflection, and a fight breaks out ahead of us. There’s a small space of empty land between the orphanage and one of the bunkhouse-style buildings we’ve been building to house the displaced masses. Even through the piles of belongings and rubbish littering the area, the small, huddled forms of sleeping lower fae are easy to pick out, and when the fight turns into a brawl and three soldiers run over to start picking folks off of one another, the lower fae all jump into the fray. Whether they’re attempting to break it up or join in is impossible to tell.
I use Nightspark’s body to push Sari and Malia both back. The guard does nothing to help, simply directing his own horse away from the fight and leaving my cousin’s safety to me. Worse than useless, he’s getting in the way, and again I consider killing him. The fight quickly escalates, growing and worsening, until finally a long stream of soldiers arrives to help.
Sari clutches my arm until we can move again, her face pale as her eyes take in the blood and broken bodies left behind.
I lean toward her in my saddle, the choice made for me. “This wasn't a tragedy, Sari, none of it. This is an everyday occurrence. If your father sends his healer down here and instructs him not to leave until everyone is healed, he will be without a physician. We’ve just finished building the latest set of bunkhouses. We built them twice as big as we thought we needed, but the unrest in the kingdom has only escalated, and still there are people sleeping on the streets. The castle is employing as many as we can, but it's overflowing.
“You need to return to Yris, Sari. It's not safe for you here, and quite frankly, this isn’t the right place for you. Your father has protected you from a lot of what’s happening out here, and I guess that comes from his deep love for you, but the rest of us live firmly in the reality of this war. I don't have time to wander through gardens or explain to you why Airlie can't buy trinkets from people who are starving to death down here. I need to get back to work.”
Her eyes widen, and she hesitates as she glances at the guard, who is listening to our every word. It's the first time since she's been here that she’s openly indicated he’s here to listen to us, another sign that there’s more going on underneath her perfectly curled mop of high-fae blonde hair than could be assumed by her usual comments.
Once the fight has been disbanded and we’re able to move once more, we complete the loop and head back to the castle.
Sari waits until her shock and fear have settled before she speaks again, her voice soft but strong. “I will speak to Father about this and see what assistance we can offer. We haven't been hit so hard up in the north. Perhaps it’s the cooler weather down here that inhibits the crops so badly. I will do what I can for you, Cousin. I don't want to see our people living in such despair and you with so much on your plate. It hurts my heart to see Yregar like this.”
We pass the line for the food once more, and it’s as long as ever. The fight didn’t deter anyone, not even the maids, who continue to carefully ration the bread and paltry stew.
I take a deep breath to find my patience with my cousin, but I keep hold of my temper. “It’s like this everywhere, Sari. Why do you think Roan left Airlie to return to Fates Mark when she’s so far along with the baby? Yris is the only castle left in the kingdom without refugees arriving daily. It’s the only place that isn’t under threat of attack on a daily basis. The rest of us are living a completely different story.”
She glances at a small child, huddled in line with his mother and clinging to her arm as he stares up at us with the deep brown eyes of the lower fae, flecked with green and looking like the rich depths of the earth as it once was.
“I suppose you’ll marry the witch and take the crown soon, Cousin. Will you be moving to Yris, too?”
Each word is measured and spoken softly and carefully. For a moment, I think she's speaking quietly so that the villagers around us won't hear her, but the guard’s gaze lands on me and digs into my skin as though he’s reading me to detect a lie. I would need to know what family he hails from to know if he can actually discern deception, but I speak the truth, so it doesn't really matter.
“I have no intention of moving to Yris, Sari, not now, not ever. Yregar is my home, and I won’t leave the people here behind, no matter how prosperous the fields may be elsewhere.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Rooke
After the encounter with the Savage Prince and the Unseelie high fae under his rule, I’m escorted back to my cell by Tyton. My knees ache with such ferocity that I’m eager to get back down into the dingy area to open myself up to the earth once more and let its healing energy wipe away the pain.
I wait until my wrists are unchained and the iron doors are firmly shut behind me before I undo the shoes and wriggle my feet out of them, wincing at the state of them. To the fires with the lot of these people, I hope they all dance their way to the pyres right now and leave me to my peace!
Tyton watches me without a word. I'm not sure if he can see well enough through the dark to note the blood that drips from the blisters that line my toes, but the earth takes the sacrifice willingly, greedily as it drinks it up and my power with it.
The soles of my feet are black within minutes from resting on the stones, but it doesn't bother me one bit. I’ve come to accept the power exchange with the earth, even when Tyton is present and watching keenly, though only him. I want him to see it, to know that I can speak to the earth the way that the trees have spoken to him. I want him to start a conversation so that I can question him to my heart's content about the Ravenswyrd Forest and everything I left behind there. I can hear the trees in my heart, their welcome and joy still ringing through me, but I’m curious to know what secrets they whisper to him.
What lessons they’ve chosen for him alone.
As if he knows my intentions and wants to deny me, he watches me in silence as the power drains from my blood into the earth and as the earth pumps it back into me. The aches and pains drift away, the blisters healing over, my stomach no longer feeling empty, my tongue no longer dry as it's sustained. When the connection strengthens, I forget about him, giving myself over to the magic and feeding the land as it aches to be fed.
