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Amma knows this, so I wonder what has prompted this discussion.

“He blames me for that sentiment.”

I hate when she frowns so. It doesn’t fit her usual disposition.

“And yet, he loves you well.”

Father may wish Amma weren’t training me to be a Garra, a title given only to those with both the blood and training, but he loves us both. Just as he did my mother.

A Garra would never marry a man without love, for she knows the consequences all too well.

“Hmph. So tell me of the commander.”

Wincing, I open my trunk and stare at the gowns stored within it.

“Aedre?”

Pulling out a simple one of deep blue, I close the trunk and shake out the fabric, laying it across the top. A breeze from the open window blows a strand of hair onto my face. Brushing it away, I sit in the wooden chair opposite my grandmother.

“So you already heard about him,” I ask.

Amma knows everything that happens in Murwood End, perhaps even more so than Father. Though I planned to tell her about Lord d’Abella, I wanted to gather my wits about me first.

“You spoke with him?” she presses.

“I did. He shared little of his purpose for being here, so I snuck into Sailor’s Inn and listened to his men. Overheard them speaking of Kipp.”

Amma’s eyes widen.

“Of Kipp?”

She is as protective of him as I am. When Kipp’s mother was cast out of Castle d’Almerita with him, the king’s babe, she made her way here, to Murwood End. My amma and Kipp’s mother grew very close. Eventually, she married the mercenary who’d accompanied her here. I saw less of Kipp in those years as he traveled often with his father, but his mother fell ill and died. Our shared pain over being motherless brought us closer again.

“Aye. They said, ‘His instructions were clear. We don’t return without him.’”

My grandmother crosses herself. She is not an overly religious woman, preferring the teachings of her ancestors to the church’s increasingly zealous guidance. The Shadow Warriors, men who fight for the church, are as feared here in Murwood as they are in the south. At times they’ve been used against both kingdoms when the church disagrees with their edicts. Other times, they fight for the people. Some see them as a force of good against evil, but others dislike their blind devotion to the Prima.

“Why does the king send for him?”

“I do not know but aim to find out. The commander caught me listening to his men, teased me for it, and said he could use a Garra to treat his overly amorous ways. So”—I forge ahead—“I agreed to it. I’m to meet with him this afternoon.”

I hold my breath, waiting for her response.

“Does he truly suffer from such an affliction?”

My heart races at the question. At the thought of meeting him again.

“Nay.”

“What is his intention with you?”

Warmth floods my cheeks.

“He is attracted to you.”

“I believe so.”

Father would forbid such a dangerous arrangement. The very idea of spending time with a man who thinks of me in that way, especially one who has shown a clear disdain for capable women . . .