She frowned, forehead creasing. “What?”
His attention shifted behind her and she twisted to follow his gaze.
Her heart stopped. Everything in the world stopped.
Thomas and Mark stood in the cleared street, only a few paces away. They grinned at her and Clare couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak.
Mark broke the stillness when he threw himself at Clare. She grabbed him, his ten-year-old arms nearly crushing her as he squeezed her middle.
She held him just as tightly, a laugh and a sob tangling in her throat. Thomas grabbed her, too, the three of them embracing, crying, and laughing. “I didn’t know if I’d see you,” Clare managed to say through her tears. “I didn’t know if you’d come.”
Thomas gripped her harder. “Captain Markam came to the house this morning, telling us you’d be here. A soldier even escorted us!”
Bennick met her quick look with a half-grin. He’d set the crate back on the wagon. “I thought you’d appreciate the surprise.”
She kept her arms wrapped around her brothers, emotion tightening her voice. “Thank you.” The words were inadequate, but Bennick seemed to feel the fullness behind them.
“What happened to your face?” Mark demanded.
Clare’s hand fluttered to the bruise on her cheek. “Nothing, just a small accident. I’m fine.”
Mark frowned, and Thomas looked like he might question her further, but Bennick stepped in. “We didn’t get a chance to really meet this morning.” He held out a hand. “You must be Thomas.”
Her thirteen-year-old brother shot a last look at Clare’s bruise before he shook Bennick’s hand. “Yes, sir.”
Bennick stooped a little, putting himself more on Mark’s level as he extended his hand again. “And you must be Mark.”
Mark continued to lean against Clare, but he took the offered hand. “How did you know?”
Bennick’s mouth twitched. “Clare told me all about you.”
“She did?” Mark twisted to look at her and she nodded.
Bennick straightened. “Why don’t you all come inside? I’m sure there’s a quiet corner where you can visit.”
Clare’s heart was so full, she thought it might burst as sheguided her brothers toward the orphanage. Fates. Bennick had brought her family to her. He’d gone to them that morning, which meant all through training he’d known she would see them in mere hours. He had kept his secret—even teased her about remaining at the castle.
She didn’t want to stab him again with that wooden blade. Shewanted to kiss him—a real kiss. And that thought burned her cheeks.
They stepped into the orphanage and her brothers weremomentarily distracted by the sight of Princess Serene seatedon the floor surrounded by children. She was weaving an old Devendran folk tale, her low voice hypnotic. Her skirt pooled around her and some of the younger children even leaned against her sides. Cardon and Dirk had taken up positions directly behind Serene, but even they seemed swept up in her storytelling. Serene looked up at the Ellingtons and gave them a small smile, though she didn’t break from her story. Thomas blushed and grinned, but Mark just squeezed Clare’s hand.
Clare led them to the back corner of the room, and she could have sat on the hard floor with her brothers tucked beside her forever. They talked quietly with each other, and though Clare shared some details of living at the castle, she questioned the boys constantly about their new lives. When conversation finally ebbed, they listened to Serene’s latest story. Clare rubbed a hand up and down Mark’s back, an arm around Thomas’s shoulders. Clare glanced across the room and saw Bennick, Venn, and the matron of the orphanage standing off to the side, speaking in low tones. Bennick caught Clare watching and he cast her a small smile, but the alertness in his eyes sent a needle of unease through her.
Thomas spoke lowly beside her, his eyes on the princess. “It’s too bad we have to lose her to Mortise.”
Mark straightened beside Clare. “No, it’s not. When she goes, Clare can come home.” His blue eyes turned to her. “Right?”
Clare hesitated, casting a look at each of them. “I’m actually going with the princess.”
There was a short silence in their corner, Serene’s story continuing to enthrall the rest of the room. Thomas blinked. “You can’t go to Mortise. It’s dangerous, and too far away.”
“I know, but—”
Mark shoved away from Clare, coming to his feet with a jerk. He glared down at her, hands fisted at his sides. “You can’t go.”
Sharp pain cut into her chest. “I have to, Mark.”
Fury bled into his eyes, tightening his face. “No,” he snapped.
Clare shifted to her knees in front of him. “I don’t want toleave,” she said softly, pleading for him to understand. “But I don’t have a choice.”
“You keep leaving us,” Mark ground out. “You don’t love us anymore.”
“That’s not true—”
“I hate you!”
Clare flinched.
Thomas tried to grab Mark, but he shook free of his brother. He turned as if to bolt, but Venn stepped into his path, a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Easy there,” he murmured to the boy, before locking eyes with Clare. Tension lined his dark face. “We need to leave. Now.”
Instinct and training converged, pulling Clare to her feet. “What’s going on?”
Venn glanced toward Bennick, who still stood near the pale matron. Bennick wasn’t looking at her, but speaking hurriedly to Wilf, their eyes roving the room. Clare’s gaze swept the crowded space as well, but she wasn’t trained enough to pick up what they were seeing.
Venn grasped Clare’s arm. “There’s going to be an ambush,” he whispered. “Men came last night; the matron had no choice but to hide them, or they’d kill the children. Bennick figured it out and he told me to get you—”
Bennick bellowed a warning, snapping Cardon and Dirk into full attention a second before crossbow bolts flew from the sides of the room. Serene’s story cut off as Cardon dragged her to her feet, he and Dirk shifting into position around her. Children shot up from the floor, screaming, and orphanage staff tried to herd
