me, his eyes restless. “On our way here, the things you scratched into the dirt, what were they?”
“Words, Kaden. Only lost unsaid words that added up to good-bye.”
He pulled in a deep, slow breath. “I’m trying to find my way through this, Lia.”
“I know, Kaden. I am too.”
His gaze remained fixed on me. He finally nodded and left. I walked to the door, watching him ride off, the moonless night swallowing him up in seconds, and I ached with his want, ached with what I couldn’t give him. His need reached deeper and farther than me.
I returned to the kitchen and blew out the lantern but couldn’t let the night go. I leaned against the wall tacked with paper—lists that tried to hold on to the life that Berdi had traded for another decades ago. In the dim light, the faint edges of her kitchen became a distant world of twists, turns, and unmapped choices, the ones that had woven together and defined Berdi’s life.
Do you regret not going?
I can’t think about things like that now. What’s done is done. I did what I had to do at the time.
My hands pressed against the cool of the wall behind me.
What was done was done.
I couldn’t think about it anymore.
* * *
Early the next morning, I raided Berdi’s wardrobe and found only part of what I required.
“Natiya, are you good with a needle?”
“Very,” she answered. I’d suspected as much. To rip out a hem, conceal a knife in a cloak, and then sew it up again in a few precious minutes required a skill that I certainly didn’t have—much to my aunt Cloris’s chagrin.
I asked Enzo for coin. I had used all the money Rafe had packed in my bag for messengers in Turquoi Tra. Enzo didn’t hesitate, and pulled a sack from the potato barrel in the pantry. He threw me the whole thing. It wasn’t much, but I gladly took it and shoved it into my pack, nodding my thanks. “I’ll tell Berdi you’re doing a fine job here. She’ll be pleased.”
“You mean amazed,” he added sheepishly.
I shrugged, unable to deny it. “That too. And remember, Enzo, you’ve never laid eyes on me.”
He nodded, an understanding passing through his eyes, and I wondered at his transformation. Rafe’s threats had no doubt gotten his attention, but I was certain it was the magic of Berdi’s trust that had changed him. I just had to pray that the change was lasting.
We snuck out, quiet as night, careful not to wake any boarders.
* * *
The clerk at the mercantile was happy to see us. We were her first customers of the day—and the only ones. I saw her squinting, trying to peer through the gauzy cover of the white scarf draped over my face. I asked if she had any red satin, and she didn’t try to hide her surprise. Most widows would be asking for more somber, respectful fabrics.
Natiya surprised me with her quick explanation. “My aunt wishes to make a tapestry honoring her departed husband. Red was his favorite color.”
I added a quick sob and nod for effect.
In minutes we were on our way, with an extra yard thrown in by the sympathetic clerk.
We had one more stop. What I needed there couldn’t be bought with the usual kind of currency. I only hoped I had the kind I needed.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
RAFE
My transition from soldier to king had been abrupt, and it seemed every baron in the assembly wanted a piece of my hide. I knew their bravado was posturing to secure my ear and attention, which I assured them they had. The eight officers of the cabinet were the most demanding, but then they were the ones who had worked the most closely with my father.
I was welcomed of course, but behind every welcome came an admonishment—Where were you? And a warning—The upheaval is widespread. It will take time to heal.
The court physician offered me the most painful reminder. Both of your parents asked for you on their deathbeds. I promised them you were on your way. I wasn’t the only one who offered false hope and expedient lies, but I had little time to dwell on my guilt.
If I wasn’t in sessions separately with the assembly, cabinet, or the court of generals, I was with them all at once. General Draeger spoke up often, and being the governing general of the capital, his voice held sway. He made his opinions known—a message to me as much as to everyone