“What I’m gathering is that you would like the freedom to pursue this on your own?”
She didn’t say what else she knew to be true—that this was likely an excuse to get out of Daruvar before the wedding. Sometimes it was so hard pretending to be oblivious, but she’d thought it best to salve his pride this way. Otherwise, she would’ve had a candid conversation with Gavriel long ago. Thalia suspected he loved the idea of her more anyway, a sort of knightly devotion.
“Exactly so. Will you release me from your service?”
A pang of regret went through her. Through the years, there had been nobody more dedicated or loyal than Gavriel. If she released him, she didn’t doubt that he would keep working for her benefit, but he would no longer take orders directly from her. Replacing him would take some doing, as she’d been counting on him to lead the Noxblades and train replacements in the future.
She let out a soft sigh and then nodded. “Follow your own path from here. Send word if you learn anything important.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“When are you leaving?”
“As soon as the tiger woman is ready.” The descriptors sounded vaguely pejorative spoken in that tone.
“Then be safe.” She didn’t say she would miss him, though that was true, it might also foster false hope.
“You as well.” He hesitated, but in the end, he chose to swallow whatever words hovered at the tip of his tongue.
Just as well.
“Could you do me one last favor?”
“What is it?” He looked wary, wisely enough.
“Recommend your successor of the two who returned with you from Hallowell.”
“Ferith, definitely. She has the most experience. Tirael is too young and is impulsive in the bargain. Was that all?”
“Yes, thank you. Take care, Gavriel.”
With a bow, he excused himself and Thalia didn’t watch him go. End of an era. Once, she’d taken for granted that he would be the silent sword behind her throne. Their roads had diverged unexpectedly and might not join again.
Wearily she went to the hall to check on the decorations. They seldom used this room, as it was large and cold, but apart from the courtyard, there was no space large enough for everyone at Daruvar to bear witness. The staff had dug out some truly archaic decorations and were bedecking the halls with them, no time to order anything or wait for supplies. If this wedding seemed rustic and rushed, so be it.
“How are things going?” she asked.
A young page dipped at the waist in a nervous obeisance, twisting her hands before her. “Well, Your Highness, there aren’t enough chairs, not anywhere in the fortress, and we don’t have a red carpet anywhere. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Thalia cut into the apology with a careless gesture and a reassuring smile. “You can only do what’s possible with the resources available and the time allowed.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Her eyes burned, dry and sore, but she had one more stop before she could snatch a few hours of rest. At this hour, the chapel was deserted, moonlight streaming in the etched silver stained glass. The mosaics were so old here that she could scarcely make out the pictures, and the candles had been dark for decades. It seemed a minor miracle that the sparker allowed her to light the tapers, one by one. They were melted, ancient, and misshapen, but lucky for Thalia, they still kindled to flame.
In the best of all possible worlds, she wouldn’t be doing this alone. Her family should be beside her, gathered to pray for her happiness and prosperity, but their numbers had never been great, and now she was alone, the last of her line. At this point, Ruark Gilbraith was her closest living relative, and he wanted to marry her to unite their bloodlines, so he wouldn’t be lighting any candles. Still, while she had abandoned some of the old ways, she wouldn’t omit this quiet vigil.
“Mother, guide me as I take my first steps to my new life. Help me remember that truth is not always wisdom and that compassion is always required. I will do my best to be worthy of the task you have entrusted to me. Watch over me and keep me from harm.” She whispered a few more words in Old Eldritch, her pronunciation rough and slow.
Traditionally, she ought to pray to her father as well, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask for his aid, not when their ideology had diverged so completely. He’d probably hex me if he has any power in the afterlife. Thalia knelt on the cold stones for a long time, until her knees went from sore to stiff to numb and she had to use her hands to pull herself upright.
That should be enough reverence.
Carefully, she blew each candle out and sat in the darkness, unable to move. In the morning, everything would change.
Sleep was impossible.
Magda had just left, after offering a cryptic, ‘I have a trail to follow’. If Raff had any illusions that they had formed a bond, her casual departure would’ve dispelled them. His body hurt with a low-grade ache, but the wound was healed, at least. It looked like it would scar, making him unique among Animari.
In the middle of the night, they had only a skeleton crew on watch, which permitted him to wander the hallways unimpeded. A few guards bowed or asked if he needed directions. Raff only shook his head. He didn’t even know what he was looking for, but he was too restless to sleep. The days he’d spent laid up took a toll since he was used to grueling physical activity. As he rounded a corner, he smelled the distinctive odor of burning tallow and the sharp scent of a flame recently extinguished.
That was how he found her, kneeling in a stripe of moonlight. He’d seen relatively few expressions from Princess Thalia, so her naked loneliness hit him hard. She had her
