Page 51

“A word before you depart?”

“Good day,” I say to the commander as he approaches. I shake his hand.

“I’d have spoken to you last eve,” he says, “but you did not attend the meal.”

“My regrets,” I say, not regretting my absence at all, given my will to keep myself from Hilla has been all but broken since the news of Whitley’s death. “The men await,” I remind him, the others emerging one by one from the stables across the courtyard.

He advances toward me, darting wary glances left and right. There is naught unusual about the king’s commander speaking to an Elderman. But clearly he does not wish to be overheard.

“There has been a . . . development since we last spoke.”

“A development?”

“Aye, my wife. As you know, she is Garra,” he says, and I nod in acknowledgment. “She had a vision, of sorts.”

A vision. Few Garra have this ability.

“Aedre does not know when or how the princess will aid our cause. Or even why, as her fate would not seem to intertwine with our present affairs in Meria.”

The princess.

I think back to the first night we arrived, when Lady Aedre left with Hilla. Searching his eyes for answers, I see the commander’s concern for the first time.

And then I see her.

Striding toward us, wearing a gown I’ve not seen before, one suited for travel, Hilla’s eyes find mine.

No. She cannot.

“Lady Hilla has agreed to travel to Murwood End with you.”

“Agreed to travel?” I turn my attention back to the commander. “She is leaving for Edingham, to return to her sister. Why would she come north with us?”

The commander lowers his voice even more as Hilla approaches. “We do not know. But Aedre wills it, and the princess has agreed. She and my wife have developed a bond these past days.”

A bond. Dear God, no.

“She is Garra,” he repeats, knowing what I am. My hesitation has naught to do with Lady Aedre. I do not question her vision but the situation itself. I cannot do this.

“You do not understand,” I start as the lady in question finds us.

D’Abella smiles knowingly. “Aye, I think I do. And trust you will find a way to navigate it.”

He knows of my desire for her.

“Another vision?” I ask wryly.

“Nay,” he says to me. “The simple use of my eyes.” The commander then turns to Hilla to greet her.

“Good day, Lord d’Abella. Father Aiken.”

This cannot be.

“Lady Hilla.”

She knew last eve. I cannot wait to speak to Hilla alone. How could she have stood there and not told me? She allowed me to believe it was the last we would see each other.

There’s much you do not share with her.