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Chapter Eighteen

Vannni

This time, Aedre didn’t run away.

I did.

After that kiss . . .

That kiss.

Though I did not touch her again, every part of me wished it were otherwise. When we finally sat, I moved closer to her on the stone. And when she reached for my new sword, the one her father forged, I used the moment to brush my fingers across hers.

Except I don’t want to simply kiss Lady Aedre. I want to consume, and be consumed by, her. When we’re not together, I’m thinking of her, curious about what she’s doing or who she’s healing. I’m imagining her swinging the double-edged hammer she clearly knows how to wield. I’m sitting inside the inn listening but not really hearing my companions.

Thomas raises his voice, arguing with my squire, Christopher, over the merits of Voyager fishing nets and how they differ from those in the south.

But I care not about fishing nets. Or anything, really, save Master Aldwine’s return.

And, of course, Aedre.

“You’ve not eaten yet,” Thomas says to me, apparently finished with the good-natured disagreement.

In answer, I take a piece of fish and stuff it into my mouth.

“I spent the afternoon at the docks.” Thomas smiles at the serving maid passing by. “And heard a rumor about the Queen of Edingham.”

I eat, suddenly hungry after that one bite, as the innkeeper’s daughter, a now-familiar serving maid, moves past us again. On many of our journeys we are hosted by noblemen. At other times, we stay in abbeys. But Sailor’s Inn has fast become a favorite, despite my typical distaste for inns. With the exception of that first day, none have challenged us, and some appear to have forgotten there are strangers among them. Every day fewer and fewer patrons look our way.

“Celebrating the demise of Meria’s lost heir already?” I ask.

Though the news must have traveled to Edingham by now, it’s premature for it to have reached Murwood.

“Nay, though no doubt they’ll do so soon enough. Some say Queen Cettina’s sister has returned to court.”

Salvi and I look at Thomas, both of us surprised.

“So Lord Whitley has finally found a home for his ambition?” Salvi asks.

The knight has served me well these past years, and there are none I rather wish to have by my side than he. Unlike Thomas, he is more reticent with his words.

“More like the queen’s sister has found a way to get into her good graces.”

An interesting development, if it is, indeed, true.

Though second-born, Cettina inherited her father’s crown when he died the year after her older sister, Lady Hilla, was disinherited and banished. Rumor has it Lady Hilla had an affair with an especially unsuitable man, although none know the truth of it. Some say aye, and others nay. But all agree that when her father, the king, learned of the accusations, the man in question was swiftly beheaded, Lady Hilla and her husband exiled. Said husband, Lord Whitley, still rages over the incident.

“Either way, she and Whitley are back at Breywood Castle, if the stories are true.”

I consider how this may affect our current state of affairs.

“If stories of Whitley’s ambition and greed are true, he will undoubtedly make a play for his wife to reclaim the crown.” I take a swig of ale.

“Perhaps Meria won’t be alone in her misery?” Thomas speculates.

I’ve come to the same conclusion.

“This is good news for us,” I agree. “But Edingham’s instability does little to solve our own problems.”