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“You will always have a home here,” I add quickly, making a promise I shouldn’t. “I could use some help reining in his crazy, if you don’t mind staying on.”
She nods and begins braiding his hair to match the other hestrinn in the stables.
“I suppose we should give him a name.”
“Yes, he is needing something to match his personality.”
I chuckle and agree, running through a list in my mind before landing on a name I heard ages ago.
“What about Gideon?”
Sarah puzzles it over, repeating the word to get a feel for the pronunciation. “I like it. What does it mean?”
“Bruiser. Or destroyer.”
The girl throws her head back in a fit of laughter before adamantly agreeing, pointing to the few marks he has already left on her body.
“Bruiser. I like this. It suits him.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The fresh air and time with Sarah and Gideon have served the purpose of calming me down somewhat. That, and the reminder that I have at least done a single decent thing in my life.
The horse is safe, and she is safe, and it's more than I can say for most of the people that I care about, certainly more than I can say for myself. But it's something.
I'm not ready to go back to my rooms yet, so Khijhana and I find ourselves once again in the study. It is vacant, as usual, and the king's words from my first week here come back to me.
Despite my efforts, the people are definitely still avoiding me. It's clear this room has seen plenty of use, and with the newfound knowledge that they have been here for seventeen years, I am sure they are all familiar enough with the castle to feel perfectly at home utilizing its many spaces.
Whether it's personal or it's about their secrets, it's clear that I am the reason for the emptiness in this wing of the castle.
I sigh, pausing near the piano, running my fingers gently over the keys.
None of it matters. It feels as if I spend half of my life reminding myself how little anything here should affect me lately.
I am still pacing the room, trying to thaw from my venture outside, when footsteps sound from the entryway. I freeze in my tracks, but don't bother to turn around. They are familiar enough to me by now, having heard them outside my room every night for weeks.
Khijhana casts the king an irritable look, and I am absurdly grateful for her support. He says nothing, neither to her, nor to me. He only walks in his usual cadence, confident steps that border on arrogance.
He has never had to doubt whether he is wanted in a room, has never had to mitigate himself for the sake of others.
I still refuse to face him, but I hear the sound of chair legs scraping against the stone floor. From the distance, I can surmise that he is sitting at the table where we played chess before.
Finally, his voice rings out behind me. It’s deep and, for a change, contains the emotion he so rarely infuses into it.
"I thought we might play another game."
I spin around before I can cover the resigned expression on my face.
"Don't we play plenty of games already?" I ask him flatly.
He studies me for a moment, taking in more of me than I want him to see, as usual.
"A different sort, then." He gestures to the chessboard.
I think about the man I saw at the festival and the way the time is slipping through my fingers so precariously, and I want to say that it's for all of those reasons that I agree.
But I know what a liar I am.
