“First of all, I want to thank you all. You’ve been…inordinatelypatient and understanding in the face of what has been a rather bewildering turn of events, to put it mildly. I know it hasn’t been easy.” He fought the urge to glance around, though he did lower his voice. “And I know the welcome hasn’t always been warm.”
“Nor has the bloody weather,” Eda crowed from her place by the fire, and a soft chorus of laughter rose up among them. Kai smiled, despite himself.
“No, nor has the weather. So you’ll be pleased to hear that you may feel the sun on your skin soon enough. We’ve been offered access to the open waters of Dhalias, where it’s been all but confirmed that there is a Merrow settlement living in the ocean.”
Save for the gentle rustle of wind through the evergreens above them, there was silence.
“We’re… leaving?”
Kai recognised the speaker by her tired eyes and the babe dozing against her shoulder. He remembered how she had spent the night of the Faire saving an empty space for someone who would not –couldnot – join them. He inhaled against the pressure in his chest.
“We will send envoys to seek out the Dhalias settlement, and if relations with our fellow Merrow are favourable – and the conditions of the waters are liveable – we may consider leaving.”
Half of the crowd looked up at him with longing – the other with open horror.
“Nobody will be forced to leave,” he said gently. “And we will not give up on our true home. This move may even open up more opportunities to us. We could explore other routes to the Laune, perhaps swim to the mouths of each river and determine where the ice ends and the sea begins.”
He paused, giving the Merrow the room they needed to let his words sink in, to challenge him, or put words to their fears or–he dared to hope – perhaps even celebrate. The silence stretched on. And on.
Kai cleared his throat, glancing down for a moment to get control over his expression–he could not let them see that he’d expected a warmer reaction. This was not about him.
“Before we make any firm decisions, Alun will lead an exhibition to Dhalias and report back to us all.”
Al’s head shot up at the mention of his name – they’d discussed this at length of course, but his dark eyes still widened at Kai’s words. Nervous, to be entrusted with something so important. But hopeful. Kai smiled with all the warmth he could muster, and Al got to his feet eagerly.
“Yes, so.” Al clapped his hands together and grinned, standing tall. “I leave for Dhalias in three days’ time. We’ll travel by coach, kindly loaned to us by Thornland Manor, and enjoy the hospitality of the Empress Vanjir on our arrival in Dhalias, before sailing out to the open waters in one of her fully serviced ships. Any takers?”
The number of hands that flew into the air was all the reassurance Kai needed. They might be apprehensive - how could they not be? But this was what the Merrow needed from him – what the Beira family needed from him, too.
This was the right move.
Even if it felt like he was burying half of his heart here in Eisalaan. If all went well, he would still send the other half, bleeding and off-beat, across the ocean to start anew.
Chapter 42
Adeline
Keeping Kai’s deception from her mother was even more difficult than Adeline expected – not least because their lunchtime arrangement had resumed, with Selma taking her meals in bed once more. This course of bedrest was at the behest of the Chief Healer, backed by Sebastian’s own growing worry.
“I am perfectly well,” the Queen insisted to anyone in earshot.
But the Healer was concerned that she had yet to shake the weariness that came with her flu. She’d pushed herself too far, he said, resuming the stresses of her role before she was fully healed and therefore setting back her recovery, again and again.
And so the Queen conducted her business from her rooms to the best of her ability, holding only the most important meetings by her bedside and trusting the Cold Council to take care of the rest.
“How was the court this morning?” She asked one afternoon as Adeline set down her luncheon tray.
Adeline busied herself for a moment with preparing the Queen’s tea, adding milk and a generous dollop of honey – one thing she’d learned in the last few months was that she’d inherited her insatiable sweet tooth from her mother.
When she turned, Selma was eyeing her intently. Adeline raised a brow as she passed her the steaming cup.
“I suspect you’ve already heard all about it from Sebastian.”
The Queen outright grinned – an expression Adeline wasn’t sure she’d ever grow accustomed to seeing on those once immobile features.
“Perhaps. Tell me anyway.”
That morning, Adeline had held public court for the first time, under the supervision of the Council. As the race was not yet settled, the Queen planned for her eldest daughters to trade off, each taking their turn to sit on the Dais and address their countrymen’s concerns. Adeline remembered watching Mareda fluster and cry, cowed by the righteous anger of the Eisalaan people who came before her looking for help and answers. So, she’d walked onto that Dais ready to let their rage and frustration land, willing herself to be calm and empathetic.
