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“Kaye!”
My little brother lay curled up on my bed, his back to me. He was so still that for a moment I was frightened, remembering Florian’s lifeless body. Then Kaye turned over slowly, his face groggy.
“Morgan. I wanted to see you before you left. I must have fallen asleep.”
I crossed the room and sat down beside him, careless of my wet gown.
“Why aren’t you down in the Great Hall? You should be at the festivities.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t want to go. You know I don’t care for dancing. Besides, you leave tomorrow. I wanted to see you before you went. Are you really going, Morgan? Must you go?”
Reaching a hand out, I gently brushed his hair from his eyes. His skin was warm with sleep, his cheeks flushed. He had been such a sweet baby. He was still such a sweet boy. Kind and gentle, everything that was good in the world. Everything that Arthur and I were not.
I felt tears filling my eyes and squeezed them shut, willing them to be gone.
“What is it?” Kaye tried to sit up.
I would have to tell him.
“I’m leaving now. Not in the morning. Tonight. But you must keep it a secret, Kaye. You cannot tell anyone. Promise me, please.”
“Like the hunters?” he whispered with understanding. “I can do that. I promise, Morgan.”
The hunters. Oh, Marzanna.
I took a deep breath. “Kaye, the hunters. You need to know this. They’re dead.”
I watched his clear brown eyes widen in shock. “What do you mean?”
“Arthur killed them,” I said bluntly. “He found out what they were doing and he had them all killed. He believes I was responsible for organizing them and that they had seditious intentions. He thinks they were traitors. And so, he must never find out that you came with me that night. Do you understand? If ever he should ask, you must say you knew nothing, that you had no part of it. Do you understand, Kaye? Do you?” I gave his shoulder a shake, suddenly terrified for him, left all alone with Arthur, without me.
Kaye’s mouth still hung agape but he nodded. “I understand. He really had them killed?”
“Yes. Oh, Kaye, you must be so careful when I am gone.”
His eyes began to water. “I wish I could go with you. Can’t you take me with you, Morgan? I don’t want to go with Arthur. Not anymore.”
“I wish I could. Believe me, I tried. Arthur will not let you go.” I gripped his shoulders gently. “Kaye, you must pretend you are in a play. Nothing between you and Arthur can change. Be the good brother you always are. Listen to him. Do as he says. Above all, you must stay safe. Stay safe and wait for me. I will come back.”
“I believe you,” he whispered, brushing the back of his hand over his eyes.
I pulled him towards me, holding him close, his small head resting against my shoulder.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
“I know.” His voice was muffled. “I love you, too.”
I kissed his forehead roughly, then rose to my feet. “Now you must go. I have to gather my things and change. You shouldn’t be here. Go back to your own rooms carefully. If anyone asks, you didn’t see me this evening.”
He lifted his chin stoically and nodded, then slipped out of the room.
My brave little Kaye.
I changed quickly, pulling on warm wool trousers, a thick tunic, and overtop a warm black hooded cloak.
My satchels were already packed. I quickly removed a few of the heaviest books, the ones I had envisioned myself reading by the fire at night after a long day of riding, surrounded by a lively group of guards and servants.
It would be a different journey. A lonelier one.
