Page 74 of A Divided Duty

Etienne’s mouth thinned into a hard line as he turned toward the pantry, the knife gripped firmly in his hand. The kitchen staff watched him approach and didn’t move to stop him; as he reached the door, they scattered, leaving their stations unattended rather than watch Melly dragged out of their kitchen in shame. I couldn’t blame them. I turned my back as well, stepping out into the hall.

I didn’t want to see what happened next.

I started walking again, heading back toward the part of the knowe that was meant to be seen by people who didn’t work there. The feeling of Shadowed Hills surrounding me was still a comfort, even strained as things had become. This knowe and I knew each other very well. We had been friends for a long, long time, and it was always nice to visit an old friend, even when the circumstances were less than ideal.

I stroked the wall as I walked, letting my fingertips trail against the stone until they hit the wooden edge of a doorframe and I stopped, turning to frown at it. There wasn’t normally a door here.

“Is this for me?” I asked.

As any reasonable person would expect, the knowe didn’t answer. I stepped closer to the door, studying it. It was English oak, sanded smooth and carved around the edges with a pattern of daffodils and gamboling foxes. It looked like the sort of thing that would be used as the basis for a nursery theme, and it made my heart catch momentarily in my throat.

That was the thing I would change, if I had a Firstborn’s power. I would find a way to turn Luna back to what she was, mammal and plant combined, bleeding and living and capable of the kind of love her family needed. But I didn’t have that power, and maybe that was for the best; maybe I didn’t have the right to make that kind of choice for her.

I know an invitation when I see one. Gingerly, I opened the door and stepped through, into a small parlor with glass walls, the panes held together by swooping bronze latticing like fire-sculpted lace. I could see a pastoral landscape through the glass, rolling green hills stretching off toward forever. The sky was a bright symphony of sunset rose and gold, not quite night, but no longer day; the stars were appearing in glittering profusion, and the light slanting through the glass was buttery and warm. If I’d seen that room in a movie, I would have said the lighting directors didn’t know where they were getting their illumination from, and I wouldn’t have been wrong, because I was pretty sure the room itself didn’t know.

The furniture was all overstuffed and old, the cushions a little threadbare, the wood on the arms worn smooth and shiny by an endless succession of hands.

And there, slumped deep into an armchair by the fireplace, a blue glass goblet in one hand, was Sylvester. He was staring into the fire, and didn’t seem to have noticed my arrival. He didn’t look around even when the door swung shut behind me, not slamming, but closing with more volume than seemed strictly necessary, given the weight of it. The knowe telling her master that I had arrived.

“Sylvester?” I started carefully toward him, trying to keep my posture open and non-threatening as I approached. “What are you drinking?”

“Something highly alcoholic,” he said. “It’s funny. I remember emptying this entire bottle while we were under the spell cast by the Lady of Flowers. I drank it down to the dregs. But when the enchantment was lifted, my cellars were mercifully restored, and now I can drink it again, this time to mourn my daughter.”

“What? Raysel isn’t dead.”

He finally turned to look at me. “You’re not here to tell me that she’s stopped her dancing?”

“If she has, I don’t know about it. I’m here because the knowe decided I should be.” I gestured behind myself, indicating the door. “I was walking from the kitchen to Etienne’s quarters, and that door was suddenly there. I figure that means Shadowed Hills wanted me to check in with you. Sir, you need to be here for your vassals right now. Things are about to get really complicated.”

“My wife and daughter have disappeared again,” he said. “How do you get simpler than that?”

“Luna hasn’t disappeared,” I said. “She grabbed Raysel and ran when the queen ruled against her, but she’s not missing. She’s with her mother right now, in Blind Michael’s skerry.” I decided not to mention that she was recovering from her injuries. That would just complicate things.

Sylvester’s eyes brightened. “And Raysel’s with them?”

“No,” I said, and winced inwardly to see him slump in his chair again, brief hope dying at a single word. “But I’m looking for her right now. And I find what I look for.”

“The last time you went looking for her, I lost you too,” he said. “Stay here. Stay safe. If you tell me where you were bound, I can send Etienne in your place.”

“Tempting,” I said, and it was, more tempting than I liked to admit. “But right now, Raysel is my responsibility, and I need to be the one who finds her. She’s expecting me.”

“And not the father who failed her?”

“She’s going to need you when she gets back. Luna … I think Luna just torpedoed any chance of Raysel ever trusting her again. Needing to figure out who she was without her mother’s expectations weighing her down was a large part of why she asked me to claim offense against her in the first place, and Raysel being afraid of her mother is most of why we’ve been fighting so hard to get her the full term of offense. Raysel isn’t going to voluntarily come back to Shadowed Hills as long as Luna is here, not after this.”

Sylvester looked at me, bewildered, and said slowly, “Raysel asked you to claim offense?”

Well, crap. “Yes, she did,” I said. “When I went into her dreams the second time, she asked me to give her the space she needed to start recovering. She wants to get better. And she misses you, she’s just not sure you know who she is, or that you miss her and not the little girl you lost. You still have a chance to win her trust. I don’t think Luna does.”

“So you do think I’ve failed her.”

I was already being more honest with my liege than I had been in a long time, and so I nodded. “I do. I don’t think you did it on purpose, or that you understood what was happening at the time, but I think Luna needed you so badly, and was so clear about what she thought was best for Raysel, that you didn’t step up and make sure that she was right. You weren’t there when Raysel needed you, and she’s very hurt. You still have a chance, though, as long as I can bring her home. And as long as you don’t let the habits Titania shaped for you tempt you away from handling the responsibilities you have here, in the real world.”

Sylvester’s eyes widened in momentary surprise that I was being that blunt with him. Then he looked to the goblet in his hand, sighed, and set it aside. “All right, October. Why do you say I need to be here for my vassals?”

“Because Etienne is arresting Melly as we speak. The kitchens are going to be in disarray, and the staff is going to be terrified that you’ll blame them for what she did.”

He blinked. “What she did? What did she do?”