Alex Lidell - The Cadet of Tildor

Her face still, Sasha slid a ruby off her finger and laid it on the table beside the bed before leaving. She didn’t ask questions.

There was little one could do to make an infirmary look dignified, but Renee tried. She pulled the blanket taut over her cot—a tough trick with one arm in a sling—and changed into a pressed set of shirt and britches that Sasha had tossed through the window. The ruby ring and a folded piece of blank parchment lay on the small bedside table. She hoped to need neither.

Her head throbbed. She leaned against the wall and massaged her temple until a knock brought her to her feet.

Lord Tamath de Winter wore beaten britches and shirtsleeves instead of his typical formal attire. “The Healer permitted no visitors before today.” He shuffled his feet. “Are you . . . Good gods, Renee, how do you feel?” Crossing the room in a rush, he touched his fingers under her chin. His mustache twitched.

Renee tensed but stayed still. “I recover well, my lord.”

He let his hand fall to his side. “I hear the king himself now calls you friend and shares wine?”

She blushed. “A one-time audience.”

“Or the first.” He cleared his throat. “I wished to apologize for hasty words spoken without thought. Your home is yours as it has been always.”

Renee bowed, but the stone in her stomach remained in place. Lord Tamath did not keep the habit of apologizing. “How fare the estates, my lord?”

He shrugged. “All well. I secured a new contract for wool and goat cheese that will serve us fine.”

You have not secured it yet, Father. She smiled. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “I would not trouble you over it, but my colleague may have forwarded the documents to you by error.”

And thus the dice settled. Renee was prepared for the wave of disappointment, but was surprised to find it tempered with relief. At least now she understood the game. “If you speak of Lord Palan, there was no error. He gave me the contract for review.” She let her gaze slide to the objects on the table. “Are you aware of his Family ties?”

Lord Tamath stiffened. “I am. I am also aware that should I fail to honor his demands, I will see grave ills befall the estate.” He reached out toward her. “The last time I refused the Family, your mother and brother paid the price. I fear losing you to the same fate.”

Renee’s head thumped with each heartbeat. Her father’s words directly contradicted Palan’s. “You do this deal only for protection?”

“Why else would I deal with a monster who killed my wife and my child?”

She licked her lips and smiled. “Then I have fortunate news. The contract is here.” She raised her finger to stay his reaching hand. “But Lord Palan needs a great service from me. In return, he is prepared to guarantee that no Family tentacle will ever touch the de Winter estates. They will collect no tribute and offer no menace. Lord Palan offers his ring as a token of guarantee. You can display it to any Family servant and he or she will let you be.”

Her father’s mustache twitched again.

Renee gestured to the table. “Which will you take?” She held her breath.

He reached out and snatched the parchment. “You will understand when you are older,” he said, and started to the door. Then he stopped, one hand on the doorknob. “What is the meaning of this?” Lord Tamath spun, his eyes flashing darkness as he waved the blank parchment in the air. “What did you do with my contract?”

“What did you do with my mother?”

His jaw shut with a click.

Heat gripped her face. She advanced on him. “The Family did not kill her or Riley.”

He bowed lightly as if conceding a match. “No. The coach crashed in a meaningless accident. I thought having a culprit to blame would ease both our souls.”

It was plausible. Or maybe Palan’s supposition was right, and Lord Tamath had rigged the accident to gain ownership of his wife’s lands. Renee was beyond taking her father’s words at face value. Fatigue erupted from nowhere and washed over her. She gripped the edge of the table for balance, refusing to sit while her father remained in the room. “I don’t believe I will be returning to your estates, my lord.”

“My labors on the contract will not be annulled. Where is it?”

“Destroyed.” The steadiness of Renee’s voice surprised her.

Lord Tamath turned and left without another word, slamming the door in his wake.

Sleep claimed Renee after her father’s visit, eating up the rest of the day and the night. The following morning, she awoke to an argument on the other side of the infirmary wall. She rubbed her face and sat upright, recognizing the voices.

“I came for Renee,” said Savoy.

“I little care why you came, boy. Your ribs are broken,” said Grovener.

A crash of furniture clattering to the floor echoed through the room, and a door banged closed. Renee scrambled from her bed and into her clothes, adjusting her shirt collar just in time to answer a knock.

Savoy strode in, pulling disheveled hair back into a ponytail. “Still Grovener’s prisoner?”

She left her sling on the table and wrapped her arms around him.

“I don’t do hugs.”

“You need the practice.”

Chuckling, he laid his hands on her shoulders and pushed away, his body oddly rigid.

Renee ran the back of her hand down his side, pressing hard against his ribs.

He tensed and caught her wrist. “Don’t do that.”

Lifting a brow, Renee twisted free from his grip but said nothing. Her point was made.

“Unrest brews on the western border.” He moved across the room. “The soldiers the Crown pulled away to attend to Catar return to their posts but their numbers will not suffice. The Devmani Emperor is looking a little too covetously at Tildor’s commerce.”

Renee perched on the edge of the bed and looked out the window, as if troop movement leagues away could be made out. “War?”

Savoy shrugged. “Perhaps. The temptation to test a neighboring new king is hard to resist.”

Renee rubbed her arms. Fighters moved from post to post, campaign to campaign, greeting and taking leave of friends as often as the wind changed. Even if the gods rooted Savoy to Atham, Renee herself would be gone on her field trial before much longer. “When do you leave?”

“One week.”

She hesitated, the words balancing on her tongue. “I’m . . . I’m sorry about your parents.”

Savoy nodded. “We had little time for each other.” His voice asked her not to press and they shared a silence. He looked up after a few moments, catching her eye. “My family is here,” he said quietly, “as is yours.” He stretched his shoulders. “You’ll have the summer cycle to fulfill your missed schoolwork. Connor volunteered to oversee it.”

Schoolwork. She wanted to chuckle at the circle life had formed. She cleared her throat instead. “I, ah, I should write to Alec. Did you see him before you left?”

Savoy’s face was still. “Alec left Catar with some other young mages. Too many Crown’s eyes there now. Zev sent Connor a note.”

“That can’t be right.” Renee frowned. “No, he would’ve told me. Was there a letter for me with Zev’s . . . ” Seeing Savoy shake his head, Renee focused her gaze at the budding tree branch that swayed outside and pressed her teeth together.

“Renee!” A human arrow shot through the door. “You’re awake! Wanna see something? Healer Grovener taught me to glow just one finger!” Diam hurried to demonstrate this feat before throwing his arms around her neck.

“The imp, on the other hand, does do hugs.” Savoy backed away to give his brother room. “She’s all yours.”