Page 61 of Morfran, Dark Lord Reformed

Morfran kicked out the chair across from him and raised an untouched plate. “The apple strudel is the best.”

As Bronwen settled opposite him, Drezella cleared her throat to her brothers, saying, “Come on. Hugh found a new sword and he’s showing it off in that corner. Let’s go ask him about it.”

“But—” Tad began.

She snatched her brothers by their collars and hauled them up, passing a half-successful wink to Morfran after she got them to shuffle off. Morfran scowled at her before turning back to Bronwen, who was trying not to smile.

He cleared his throat. “They say you grow a vegetable garden?”

“It’s not grown well for a year.” She forked a bite of strudel into her mouth. “Apparently, I take it too seriously. Those three have all the credit in keeping it alive.”

He leaned back, watching as Brim and several others entered the bakery. Morfran had spoken highly of it on the way to Redmoth, and people seemed to take his word for it. Half the caravan was here, indulging in jam-lathered scones and raspberry tarts and miniature frosted cakes the size of his palm.

“Is that what you would have done if you hadn’t become the Red Rogue?” he asked. “Taken up gardening?”

She seemed to think about it, lowering her utensil and frowning. “When I was growing up, people always talked about how wonderful it’d be to become a folk hero, or an adventurer. They’d say that they wanted to go out into the world. I thought it was a strange saying.” She pushed a shaving of strudel around on her plate, looking wistful. “We’re already in the world. I thought it silly that they bemoaned where they lived when there was so much life in front of them already available for the taking.”

He frowned. Where had she been twenty years ago, and why couldn’t she have told him this before he went on a rampage across the kingdom?

“I was always happy in my garden and flowers,” she continued. “Too many believe that simple means boring. But I never did.”

Just like my mother. He rubbed his face with his hand, half smiling, half-bitter. “Gardens and flowers sound like a dream right now.”

“We could pick up where I left off after this is over,” she replied, a sudden light brightening her face. “We could do squash and pumpkins. And blackberries and currants, and, oh! I’ve always wanted to make syrup out of huckleberries. I hear it’s to die for on pancakes. I could cook you up some for breakfast first thing in the morning and— Not that I’m saying that we’d be in the same house; that’s silly. I meant to say I could walk a plate over to your house to try, or invite you over, or—”

Waking up to Bronwen and huckleberry-syrup-drizzled pancakes? He realized he was smiling as she rambled. He immediately snapped himself out of it.

“I have a question,” he said, changing the subject before he could do something as stupid as daydream. She went quiet at once, flustered and obviously happy for an interruption. “Those three kids.” He gestured to them where they were across the room ganging up on Hugh and stealing bits of his chocolates when he wasn’t looking. “I’ve seen them around with an elderly woman?”

She instantly grew somber. “She’s their grandmother.”

“Do they not have parents?”

“They do. But both joined the battle against Morfran and his men. They’ve not seen one another for a little over a year.”

He shut his eyes. It would never cease, would it? Finding ways in which he tore apart families? They were deep cuts each time.

They’ll turn on you, Morfran.

A hand comfortingly squeezed his forearm. Bronwen had lowered her fork and reached across to grab him. “It’ll end soon,” she said, her tone reassuring, her eyes soft. “And you’ve been atoning for all you’ve done. We all see that. I mean”—she let out a small laugh that sounded so cheery he couldn’t help but smile—“who would have ever thought one of Morfran’s generals would be buying strudel for his enemies’ children?”

He didn’t get the chance to respond. The sound of the bakery’s front door slamming open jolted him in his seat.

All heads flew up as Gueldefore marched in, red-faced, fully armored and glowering. When he spotted Morfran sitting across from Bronwen, he shouted, “Bronwen, get away!” He thrust his finger at Morfran. “This man isn’t who he says he is!”

Morfran froze, disbelief running like ice water through his veins. Had Gueldefore of all people pieced it together?

To Morfran’s relief, Bronwen didn’t move.

“Is this a game?” Tad asked.

“I love games.” Drezella clasped her hands together. “Shall we play Red Rover or Foursquare first?”

“I said get away from him! All of you!” Gueldefore stepped farther into the room.

Brim, who was seated around his men, cast the knight a look of distaste. Ever since Gueldefore had hesitated to stop Captain Ambrosia, he’d given the man the cold shoulder. “Can we help you, Gueldefore?”

“Yes. You can take this man to the city’s prison cells for questioning. Immediately.”