The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,61

all my teeth. Stop fussing.”

The horn sounded again. “What is it?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure. “A warning or a welcome.” I looked up at the watchtower, and a soldier waved the Dalbreck banner. “Our soldiers!” he yelled.

The rotation of troops had arrived.

I’d be able to leave for Dalbreck with Lia at last.

CHAPTER THIRTY

That evening, no one mentioned my tumble, whether to spare me or their king I wasn’t sure. But if Sven said anything, I was prepared to point out that two of Rafe’s sparring partners had fared worse—one a knot on the head, and the other a cracked knuckle. I hadn’t sparred with Rafe to prove a point the way I had with Kaden. I knew a time might come when I would need greater sword skills, and I wanted to learn from the best.

With the arrival of the troops, everyone lingered over dinner, then dessert, eagerly eating up news of home from the newly arrived Officers Taggart and Durante.

While both officers were relieved to learn that Prince Jaxon had been found alive, I noticed Rafe grew quieter as the evening progressed and news was shared. Some of the reports were lackluster—betrothals, harvests, promotions in the ranks—but when it turned to the squabbles among the assembly and cabinet, and the rumblings of generals, Rafe’s eyes narrowed and his fingers curled around the arm of his chair.

“We leave in two days. It will all be addressed soon enough,” he said. His tense composure didn’t escape the officers and further news of grumbling generals stalled on their lips.

Colonel Bodeen turned the conversation back to a lighter topic—the party that was planned for the next evening—and he noted the good timing of the troops’ arrival. Apparently Officers Taggart and Durante were well-versed in Bodeen’s celebrations.

“Be prepared, ladies,” Taggart said. “There aren’t enough of you to go around. You’ll be dancing all night.”

“That’s fine by me,” Vilah said. The other women chimed in with agreement.

“You too, Your Highness,” Captain Hague said, lifting his glass to me.

This prompted another round of toasting, this time to dancing. Soon the conversation turned elsewhere and I became lost in my own thoughts, as detached from the party plans as Rafe seemed to be. I fingered the bone in my pocket, feeling a strange emptiness that a party wasn’t able to fill. I had accumulated a small pile of bones back in my tent. It was a habit I couldn’t let go of: the jingling tokens of remembrance and worry for those I had left behind. I feared the cruelties they would suffer at the hands of the Komizar, and worried for the greater needs that still lay ahead. Morrighan could be extinguished—snuffed from memory with only a few broken memorials to prove we were ever there.

Shouts jostled me from my thoughts. Everyone startled, looking toward the door. An angry scuffle was going on outside on the veranda. The door slivered open, and a soldier entered, apologizing profusely for the interruption. “We found one, Your Majesty, just like you said. Caught him lurking around the back wall. He’s a small one, but wild. He slashed one of our guards on the arm before we could tackle him. He’s demanding to see, er—” He looked down briefly as if embarrassed. “He wants to see the princess. He says he knows her?”

Rafe, Kaden, Griz, and I were all on our feet.

“Bring him in,” Rafe said.

We heard more yelling, then two guards stumbled in trying to control their prisoner.

“Hold your place before I knock your head into the next world!” one guard growled.

The prisoner locked eyes with me, and my heart stopped.

It was Eben.

Though I knew better than to fawn over him, I couldn’t stop myself and ran, pulling him from the guard’s grip. Kaden and Griz were right behind me.

“Eben!” I drew him into my arms. “Thank the gods you’re alive!”

His arms circled around me, unashamed, and I felt all the ribs and angles of his thin body. I pushed back an arm’s length to look at him. His cheekbones were sharp, and his eyes hollow and circled with shadows. He was half starved and looked more like a wild animal than a boy. Dried spattered blood covered his clothing.

I saw emotion well in Griz’s and Kaden’s faces. Kaden stepped forward, grabbed fistfuls of Eben’s shirt, and pulled him roughly into his arms. “Drazhone.”

Brother.

Eben was their comrade. A Rahtan in training.

Griz did the same, then checked a scrape on Eben’s cheek. When I turned from our tight-knit circle, I saw