Did she have a right to be angry?
Katryna felt as though she wanted to rip her hair out. Her eyes stung with tears and her nose was dripping. She shook her head vehemently, bubbling with frustration.
“We need to make this right, Katryna,” Finn said, attempting to comfort her with a hand on her back as she held back from crying.
It was all becoming too much.
Mother. Father. Aunt Rashel. Rowan. Her aunt and uncle’s insults. Being married off to a stranger. Where was she to even begin?
“The second we stepped into father’s quarters and found him there, all of this shit fell onto my shoulders, Finn,” Katryna muttered as her emotions flooded out.
“Our shoulders, Kat. Our shoulders, not just your shoulders. You don’t think I feel it too?” Finn’s eyes began to tear up.
She had never heard him so upset before, but why was he coming after her for all this?
“You are not alone on this, stop acting like you are!” Finn demanded.
Katryna wept as the pain ramped up. Finn was not wrong- she was trying too hard; she was carrying too much of the burden by herself.
“Since the night you got home, you have tried taking this whole fucked-up situation head on. You may have delegated some tasks and responsibilities to others, but you have carried the bulk of the burden by yourself.”
Finn grabbed his sister by the shoulders, staring into her eyes with his own sea-blue eyes. It was as if he was speaking through all the barriers she had put up over the years, directly to her.
“The night you came home to Ravenrock, do you remember the conversation we had after you and Rowan were arguing?” Finn asked.
Katryna thought back to the night. The overwhelming amount of dread and anxiety she had felt. The crippling pain of returning home.
And the talk she had had with Finn about family.
Katryna nodded. “You said that ‘blood means everything’.”
“I also told you that we are in this together, every step of the way. You and I. I am always going to have your back, but you must also have mine.”
Ser Arthus handed Katryna a handkerchief and she wiped her teary cheeks.
“We can do this, but we need to do it together, Kat.”
She hugged Finn firmly and purposefully, sinking her face into his neck. “You’re right.”
“No more bearing all this weight by yourself.”
“No more.”
Finn smirked. “And no more insulting foreign dignitaries. At least, not without speaking with me about it first.”
Katryna nodded. “Alright.”
“Let’s do this together.”
Katryna looked to the High Sword. “Have our aunt and uncle released.”
“At once, my lady.”
“And have a scribe write a formal letter of refusal to the Queen of Ember, on behalf of my sister,” Finn added.
Katryna felt a smile spread across her face. Finn could only return the expression. It felt good to have him on her side, for real this time. He truly cared about her well-being, it seemed.
Katryna took her brother’s hand and they continued down the corridor, while Ser Arthus made his way back to follow through on their requests.
“I think I have a good lead on Rowan,” Katryna admitted to Finn.
“Oh? What is it?”
“Before we discovered father and Aunt Rashel, a boy came to me in the stables and warned me that I was in danger.”
“A boy?”
“His name is Sniff. We met him outside of town the day we arrived in Ravenrock. He helped Tulip after she injured her hoof,” Katryna explained.
“So, what did he say exactly?”
“He told me that I should leave at once, that I was in terrible danger. I think he may know something about Rowan.”
Finn scratched his head. “It definitely sounds suspicious. Do you know where we can find him?”
Katryna pictured the stable, just outside of Ravenrock’s walls. The hanging iron sign. The arched roof of thatch. The smell of horsehair, mud, and manure.
“I know where we can start.”
Finn nodded, looking at Katryna with certainty. “Well then, let’s go pay him a visit, shall we?”
Katryna squeezed his hand. “Together.”
Chapter 32 - Confinement
Wesley Seynard leant against the same stone balustrade enclosing his balcony that he had rested upon the night of his wedding. Despite all that had happened in those last few days, he still felt much the same.
Miserable. Angry.
Weak.
He held his chin with both hands as he watched his father’s soldiers marching through the city towards the north gates in long, organised columns. A thousand soldiers rallied from the garrison, city watch and surrounding towns by Ser Isec Batir in only a few days. It was an impressive feat.
The man was capable, even if Wesley refused to admit it.
The lack of sea breeze on this day made even resting out in the sun almost unbearably hot, but Wesley felt almost obliged to see the army leaving Andervale.
The army he should have be leading.
It was always a spectacle, their shimmering steel armour, orderly ranks, and the sound of hundreds of men marching in unison. Trumpets sounded as townspeople watched in support as the soldiers exited Andervale. Women cheered and swooned for their husbands and sons. Children waved small Caldaean flags.
It would have felt magnificent to be marching with the army. The desire of all those women and the envy of all those children.
“I should be down there,” Wesley huffed, hitting his fist against the balustrade. He could not understand why he was still confined to his quarters. Father had not let him leave in days and he was becoming more than frustrated.
But with King Tobius and his closest advisors, Oren Harrin and Hart Moralis, leading the force to the armistice with the Blacktrees, Wesley would have to be left in charge of Andervale. He would finally be able to leave his wretched quarters and get some
