Sharon Shinn - Reader And Raelynx

“Will you go back to him?”

She gave him an icy look, but he could tell she was unnerved. “Back to whom?”

“That man in the Lirrens who loves you.”

She turned her head away. “Who may still love me.”

“Will you seek him out?”

She was silent a long time, her head still turned to the side. “I will try to discover if his heart is still unclaimed. And if it is…I may look for him. I may travel to wherever he is. I’ll try not to hope he still loves me. But I’ll try to discover if he does.”

“And are you too dark for him ?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

That made her smile, barely, thinking about this man she loved. “Oh, he is like winter, in a way. He has a still beauty all his own. Sometimes when I would come to him at night, he would seem to glow like moonlight against snow. I don’t think my darkness would trouble him at all.”

Anyone who could talk like that about a man she hadn’t seen in six years certainly deserved to hope he had waited for her the whole time they had been apart. But. “Don’t leave Amalie too soon. Don’t assume she doesn’t need you, just because so many people are clamoring for her time now,” he said. “But I think, once the war is over, you should definitely go searching for this man.”

“His name is Arrol,” she said. “And I will.”

He straightened in his chair, ready to stand up. “Do you think you will be able to sleep now?”

She turned her head to look at him again, and the expression on her face was both puzzled and sweet. As if she had been surprised by benevolence. “Yes. Thank you. You have done me a great kindness, Cammon.”

“I don’t want you to think you have to be alone, even when you’re sad.”

She watched him rise to his feet but made no move to get up herself. “Then I won’t be. I’ll know you are worrying about me, and that will lift my spirits.”

He wanted to give her a hug, or take her hand, or in some physical way make a farewell; he wanted to infuse just a whisper of his magic into her veins, diffuse just a little of her remaining heaviness. But she merely settled more deeply in her chair, her arms along the armrests, and watched him pick up his candle and shuffle to the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned to give her one last look.

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Don’t divide your loyalties,” she said softly. “Give Amalie your whole heart.”

“Nobody’s heart is whole,” he said.

“No,” she said, “but don’t squander love.”

He opened the door and stepped into the hall. “I don’t think I ever have,” he said quietly. “I don’t think it was ever wasted.”

She was smiling again as he shut the door between them.

INthe morning, messengers arrived from all directions. From Brassenthwaite and Rappengrass came brief reports of uprisings at their Houses and promises of troops on the way. Ariane Rappengrass’s note contained additional dire news: “My spies have seen armies forming in Fortunalt and Gisseltess. Majesty, they have described hundreds of foreign soldiers disembarking in Forten City. If they do not turn toward Rappen Manor, I am certain they will come for Ghosenhall. Prepare yourself.”

Romar’s cousin, the marlord of Merrenstow, had sent more than a letter-he had sent thousands of troops, in addition to the royal soldiers who had been quartered on Merrenstow land for the past six months. The promised troops from Kianlever also arrived, and a small contingent from Helven showed up with a brief note from marlord Martin: “I cannot spare any more. I see the dust of Fortunalt armies headed my way.” Heffel Coravann did not send any men to swell the royal army but did relay a message to Ghosenhall: “I am restoring order to my own House. We will not war with either faction.”

There was no word from Tilt. No word from Nocklyn or Storian.

Donnal and two of the Carrebos shape-shifters had returned from reconnaissance missions flown over the southern half of the kingdom. The news was worse than they had feared. Yes, there was an army cutting northeast from Fortunalt. Half of its soldiers marched under the pearl-sewn flag of Fortunalt, half under the blue triple pendant of Arberharst. And yes, there was an army from Gisseltess, wending its way between Nocklyn and Coravann. Every soldier in the ranks wore the Gisseltess standard, a black hawk carrying a red flower in its talons.

But there was a third army, smaller, more nimble, roving just ahead of Halchon Gisseltess’s forces. These riders wore black and silver and rode under a flag emblazoned with phases of the moon. Coralinda Gisseltess was riding alongside her brother, bringing her soldiers to war against the crown.

“Why? What can she offer on a battlefield?” Senneth demanded. They were holding a conference in the smaller dining hall, which was big enough to hold everyone who might need to consult but small enough to allow them to do so comfortably. Today the group held Amalie, Cammon, Kirra, Romar, Tayse, and Senneth. Someone had tacked a large map of Gillengaria to the wall. The long table was covered with papers and messenger’s pouches and letters full of promises or bad news. “Her few hundred men are not enough to affect the outcome-unless they are much better than I think they are.”

“Justin and I defeated four of them last fall,” Cammon said. “And then a few weeks later he defeated five all by himself. So I don’t think they can be that good.”

“Then perhaps she believes she herself will be the advantage on the battlefield, and the soldiers accompany her merely to give her consequence,” Tayse said.

Kirra snorted. “She comes to bring magic to the battlefield,” she said. “The magic she claims she doesn’t have.”

Senneth nodded. “I think that’s what we have to assume. Though I’m not sure how she intends to wield it.”

Everyone sent sideways glances in Amalie’s direction. The princess widened her eyes and said, “I have no idea how such magic could be used! It is pointless to ask me.”

“Then we cannot plan how to defeat it,” Romar said briskly. He was always the one who kept any conversation going forward, pushing aside fruitless debates and focusing on the major problems. “We need to look instead at the forces we understand.”

“Tilt worries me, because everyone forgets about Tilt,” Kirra said.

“Tilt’s army is scarcely bigger than Coralinda’s guard,” Romar said dismissively. “Whether they send men to aid us or attack us, it will hardly matter either way.”

“And it is just that attitude that makes them dangerous,” Kirra muttered.

Cammon could tell she was surprised when Tayse agreed with her. “Kirra’s right. Tilt men could easily come upon us from the north, a direction from which we do not expect danger, and enact sabotage.”

Romar shrugged. “I will ask my cousin to step up patrols between the Merrenstow borders and Tilt,” he said. “If trouble comes from that direction, he will let us know.”

“We have to assume Storian and Nocklyn have joined the rebels,” Senneth said. “And that the ranks of the armies will be swelled by their soldiers as they pass through.”

Romar nodded. “I have sent messengers to Rafe Storian and Mayva Nocklyn and gotten no word in reply,” he said. “I am greatly afraid you’re right.”

“Well, there was never a prayer Mayva would be strong enough to oppose her husband-and he’s Halchon’s cousin, so of course he will war against us,” Kirra said. “But I admit I kept hoping her father would rise up from his sickbed and wrest back control of Nocklyn Towers. I’m sorry it hasn’t happened.”

“And I admit I kept expecting better of Rafe Storian,” Senneth said. “For him to side with Rayson Fortunalt! How could he do it?”