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“And you will stay with her,” Corrin declares as Sabrina joins us.
She must be as exhausted as I am. “Yes, of course. Suri and Lilou are already down.” She looks around. “But have you seen Mika?”
“Not in a while.” I groan, my head falling back in frustration.
Fikar is passing by. “He said somethin’ about the horses earlier.”
“I’ll bet he’s visiting Silmar.” Mika dreams of sleeping in the stables like the older boy does.
“I guess I’ll wander out that way and look,” Sabrina says, but I’m already moving toward the door.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll hunt him down. The guards can be a bit surly, but they know me by now. I could use the fresh air, anyway.”
Corrin shakes her head. “That boy … one day he’s going to get himself into mischief he can’t get out of.”
My trek through the castle toward the stable crosses paths with Dagny, her arms loaded with linen scraps.
Her round face splits into a wide, genuine smile the moment she sees me. She’s always a ray of sunshine, even when life feels so bleak. “Found some more cloth we can use for diapering the wee ones.”
“That’s perfect. Thank you, Dagny. You’ve been an enormous help.”
“Of course. Don’t mind at all.” She glances around before whispering, “A far better task than making a wedding dress for the demon.”
I chuckle. “Maybe we should use that fabric for the children.” What must be going through Lady Saoirse’s thoughts at this very moment, locked in that gray tower, awaiting her punishment?
“Not a bad idea.” She nods, and then her face morphs with giddy excitement. “Guess what! My Dagnar was just summoned by Princess Annika herself. She’s lookin’ for a new tributary, and she heard he was keen to stay within the castle employ. Imagine that!” She squeezes my forearm. “If my boy’s gonna serve, who better than the royal princess?”
“That’s great news.” I think. Is this coincidence or Atticus’s doing?
Dagny frowns. “What are you doing around this end of the castle, anyway?”
“Looking for Mika again. I think he’s out with Silmar.”
“That boy! He’s a handful!” She chuckles, strolling away. “Oh! And I think I found a nice new dress for ya! Come by tomorrow and I’ll size you up for it.”
I don’t ask where the dress might have come from. With all the dead mortals, I’m sure I already know. My stomach rolls with the thought.
No one else walks the castle halls tonight. By the time I round the corner that leads to the stables, an eeriness clings to the air.
“Servants aren’t allowed in these parts!” the guard stationed at the door barks, but then he blinks and his stiff body relaxes. “Oh, you. Let me guess, you’re on the hunt again.”
I wouldn’t be surprised if every guard in this place had been tasked with tracking down Mika at one point or another. I offer an apologetic smile. “I think he went to the stables. If you wouldn’t mind escorting me out there so I can check—”
“Go on, then.” He waves me past, not wanting to be bothered.
“Thank you.” With a curtsy, I slip through the heavy door and into the night, wishing I’d grabbed my cloak.
Ahead, the soft whinny of horses carries. The first time Mika ventured out here, he followed Silmar after mealtime. He never would have found it otherwise. It’s not the main castle stable that the soldiers use, but a small one outside the curtain wall, with a door and a narrow tunnel through the stone that leads to it. If I had to guess, it’s here in case someone in the castle needs to escape quickly and without notice.
I pass through the tunnel, absently thinking that perhaps a guard should be stationed here.
“… a magic potion hidden behind a book. But then Mama said I couldn’t tell anyone—”
“Mika!” My alarm flares as his words sink in.
His curly brown mop whips around. “It’s okay! Silmar says the king chopped off Lord Danthrin’s head, so he can’t make us go back to Freywich!” he exclaims with too much glee.
But it’s not Silmar who Mika is speaking to. It’s an older teenage boy with brown curls and big blue eyes. Much like my son’s, oddly enough. I’ve never seen him in the castle before, and alarm bells ring instantly.
“Mika, come here now.”
He drags his feet, as if they’re tied to hefty stones. “But it’s okay. This is Pan.”
“We don’t know Pan.” And any stranger lurking around at night when the castle gates are closed, especially in these times, is likely up to no good. Silmar is one stall over, brushing a horse’s coat, seemingly unconcerned.
“But he knows Eden.”
That startles me. “Eden?”
“Yes, milady.” Pan bows and when he stands again, he’s grinning so widely, his dimples divot his cheeks. He has a sweet face, but I’ve been fooled by his sort before. “Mika and I got to talkin’ about Freywich, and I said I have a friend from there. Actually, I know a boy from Freywich too. A stable hand named Brawley. Big, strappin’ guy who’s learning how to use a mace. I wanna learn, too, but Jarek says I’m liable to crack my own head open. He’s probably right.”
