“One-way messages is hardly communication,” Aerity said. The king of Ascomanni expected Lief to keep him updated on every detail of Lochlan news while sharing nothing in return.
“The Ascomanni way is that no news is good news.”
“Humph.” Torestans and Zorfinans had been open about their situations, so Aerity had been sure to send a message of her predicament and their next step, along with what she’d learned on her travels.
Aerity was about to return to her chambers when Lief gently took her wrist.
“About the beast you brought—”
“It stays,” Aerity said. He pursed his handsome lips and dropped her arm. “That is my final word on the matter, Lief.”
Before he could protest, she turned from him.
Lief called out, “Highness.” She stopped and awaited his argument. To her surprise, he said, “You look stunning.”
She held back a grin and disappeared into her chambers for the night.
Chapter
29
Paxton woke edgier than he’d ever been in his life. He felt a veritable pull toward home, though he had learned nothing new over the past twenty-four hours. Yesterday he’d waited for Rozaria to come to him. He’d wanted to learn more,neededto know more, but the thought of what he might have to do to find out made his gut twist. It ended up not mattering, as he’d merely caught glimpses of her as she was dragged from meals to meetings with the prince. Paxton had no choice but to sup with the other lackeys and try not to draw attention to himself. At least the food was good.
He sat on his pallet after breakfast, sharpening his arrowheads with a stone. Excited voices from the hall caused him tolift his head. A few men hooted in gladness and then rushed into the room, grabbing their belongings. Were they leaving? Paxton’s heart banged, and he began gathering his own things. He strapped his daggers across his chest and threw a tunic over his head, followed by his bow and quiver. Then he grabbed his pack and followed the other men out.
When they got to the palace entrance it was pandemonium. It seemed the entire staff was running about, carrying things, shouting excited orders, shouldering their way past Rozaria’s men and the Lashed army. It seemed chaos to Paxton, yet nobody was angry. A hand grabbed his from behind and he turned to see Rozaria’s beaming face.
“It’s time,” she said over the din. Paxton’s muscles clenched.
“To take over Lochlanach?” he asked. The words felt foreign and wrong.
Rozaria smiled. “Yes. The army is preparing to march. Prince Vito’s carriage is ready. It is time.”
Her voice, her eyes, were maniacal with the thrill of impending war. All at once Paxton remembered exactly who he was dealing with, and the duplicity of his thoughts toward her made him ill. This woman, whose affections he’d taken with a grain of salt, yet still managed to build a sense of companionship within him, was willing to kill Lochlans, to kill Aerity and her family, if it would ensure that her vision of rightness came true. She squeezed his hand and he nodded, afraid to speak.
Paxton felt powerless as he stared around at the thousands of people preparing to descend on his homeland. Lochlanach had no idea what it was about to face, and he had no way to warn it.
In the chill of the morning, Aerity stood on the castle’s balcony amid a line of guards, leaning against the stone railing, watching as timid Lashed made their way into the west commons. With each person who entered, Aerity’s heart swelled. She’d wanted to be down there, greeting those who came, but Harrison and her guards had adamantly warned against it.
The guards had been told to usher all Lashed to the long table, and ailing Unlashed to the rows of cots. So far there were eleven Lashed, all haggard in appearance, both men and women. No Unlashed had entered the west commons, though the royal lands and courtyards were beginning to fill with bystanders. She was glad she’d allowed the market and street vendors to open so the people would have food and be able to do some much needed trading, selling, and buying.
People were bundled in cloaks, fingerless gloves, and scuffed boots. All were milling about having hushed conversations, watching as the Lashed were escorted into the west commons. Aerity’s stomach was wound tightly.Come on, people, let them help you, she silently pleaded.
In no time at all, the area outside the commons was bursting with people, watching and waiting expectantly. Nervous energy filled the air. Guards and soldiers were everywhere,but they were outnumbered. Harrison and Lief were down there somewhere, trying to help keep the peace. If a revolt were to break out now . . . The princess shuddered at the thought.
“Shall I fetch you a warmer robe, Your Highness?” asked her nearest guard.
“No, thank you,” she whispered.
An hour passed.
Two hours. The grassy knoll and street outside of the west commons were filled to bursting. Twenty-two Lashed sat waiting by a fire in the west commons. Not a single citizen had approached to be healed. The volume seemed to rise. A scuffle broke out along the cobblestoned pathway where a cart was trying to get through the crowd, but it was quickly subdued by ready guards. Aerity’s heart was in her throat. Too much time had passed. Something had to be done. This was a disaster and had the potential to get so much worse.
“I’m going to address them,” she told the guards.
“Are you certain?” one asked. She knew it was foolish to speak unplanned, but this camp had been her idea, and she would do whatever she could to make it work. She prayed to the seas for the right words and then nodded and stepped to the edge, gripping the barrier.
“Good people of Lochlanach!” Her voice quavered. It took a minute of shushing and pointing within the crowd before everyone settled and stared up at her. Aerity had never been more nervous. She inhaled a cleansing breath and let itout slowly. Then she allowed her voice to reverberate through the heavy winter air.
