I bristle. My father was already going to include that provision, though more for the sake of bolstering his waning popularity than magnanimity. Unfortunately, Rafe has a way of speaking loudest and first. If he were anyone else, I would be entertained by the efficiency with which he antagonizes my father. But his brutality and manipulation have robbed these speeches of any joy.
Able’s aura spins into a full-blown tempest. It builds and builds until I’m genuinely concerned he might have a fit right here in front of everyone. My mother turns to glance at him, and that’s all it takes for him to master it—one cold, disapproving look from Liza Carrenwell.
Still, it’s a bad sign. I have only been gone a few days and Able seems somehow worse.
“It is important at times like these that we honor the dead. Unfortunately, every one of us here knows what it’s like to lose,” Rafe says. He bows his head as if overcome by the loss. “But what I know is that you are all resilient. We are all here because we know how to endure—how to rely on the care of our communities to rebuild after loss. I am grateful that Divine Polm granted me the power to help the North Hold guardsmen stop the attack swiftly. But make no mistake: those ten lives lost are no less felt to me than if I’d lost a hundred of my people. I feel your grief alongside you. I mourn with you.”
Heads nod and people whisper prayers to the Divine. Rafe Mattingly should really have gone into theater because this performance is flawless.
Rafe’s wording is intentional. He takes responsibility and begs forgiveness, while praising my family for coming to the rescue. It’s as much a subtle reminder that they have the power to do that as it is a reminder that he is also merely someone who serves the Carrenwells.
It’s a tactic that my father and Able can’t use. While I’ve watched Rafe’s subtle barbs for years, I still marvel at the ease with which he manages to paint himself as a humble servant of the common people of Lunameade, instead of the wealthy, self-serving, Divine-blessed predator he is.
The rage inside me is like a lightning strike in a dry forest. I am so tired of waiting for him to mess up enough that I can bring him down. Between the panic about the attack and the fact that he’s making himself the foundation of the community daily, that chance might never come. Potent rage swells in my throat.
“Harlow.” Henry’s voice is low and calm in my ear, but his hand presses hard against my chest. “Breathe.”
The words ground me, bring me back into my body and away from the spinning anger. My lips are tingling. My poison. He must have felt it coming on.
Although the Carrenwells are the only family who can see magic through auras, most of the Divine-blessed can feel it.
This kind of slip-up is unacceptable. I am not normally rattled like this, and I’m even more aggravated that Henry knows.
“The noble women of the North Hold pleasure block will not be forgotten. May the Divine deliver them peacefully beyond the veil and may Asher welcome them home,” Rafe says, pressing his fingers to his lips and opening his palm toward the crowd in blessing.
I still. Much as it’s killing me to not hear him talk about her explicitly, the fact that Rafe hasn’t mentioned Aidia in his speech is a good sign. If she had been wounded or killed in the attack, he would have played the sympathy card for all it was worth.
There’s only minimal satisfaction in that. The women of the pleasure block were attacked—as in the women who help with my spying. The fact that it’s all women is concerning. Rafe is saying they were killed, but it’s entirely possible that they’re just missing.
My mind pulls up the nightmarish image of the Breeder’s dark, soulless eyes on me, of the nightmarish scrape of its voice.
I crane my neck to glance at Henry. “Do you think?—”
“That it’s the work of Breeders? Maybe. I’ll send Bryce and Carter to get more information once we’ve seen you safely to South Hold.”
On the rare occasions that Henry works with me instead of against me, he’s actually not unbearable as a husband.
At the rear of the crowd, I spot Kellan standing among ten of his guardsmen. He scans the crowd, not as if he’s lookingforsomeone, butateveryone. The crowd is entranced, which can’t be a good thing for him and the rest of the guards.
“I know you’re worried, and in times of crisis, we want to put our anxieties into action, but you are already doing everything in your power to help us maintain the security of the city,” Rafe continues. “I’m grateful for that, and I know our leaders, the Carrenwells, are too. But the sun is growing low and the hour late. The replacement gate will be up within the hour and you can sleep soundly tonight. Go home and be with your families and tomorrow we will do what we have always done after a breach. Thrive.”
The crowd breaks into raucous applause. Their enthusiasm is unsettling.
We wait for the group to disperse, but Rafe seems intent on shaking hands with every single person in attendance. It takes an excruciatingly long time for the people to return to their homes.
I want to urge our horse forward so I can ask my parents how she is, but my mother catches my eye across the short distance and gives a quick shake of her head. Then she points south. She doesn’t want to speak in public. It’s possible she just wants to be away from prying eyes, but it’s more likely that she wants me to ditch Henry somehow.
“Let’s go straight to Carrenwell House and settle in,” I whisper. “My parents will join us when they’re finished here.”
Gaven leads the way through town, with Carter and Bryce behind him and Henry and me holding up the rear.
We’re quiet as we ride through the city. It’s not as busy as it would usually be this time of day. Shop owners turn signs in store windows toClosedand mothers rush their squealing children into cozy homes for supper.
If I hadn’t lived here for so long, it might look like a normal evening. But the lack of pedestrians milling the streets and the way the few that are out and about are constantly looking over their shoulders is very telling to me. The people of Lunameade are used to living in the shadow of fear, but the moment when our borders are truly tested always brings out this wariness.
Bryce and Carter peel off before we enter the southern half of the city. I don’t ask where they’re going because I know Henry won’t tell me.
Once we cross through the southern safety gates, things seem a bit more normal. People chat outside of pubs and couples walk down the street arm in arm. The more distance from the breach, the less immediacy the people carry. Still, there’s a part of me that wonders if this is the result of the excessive number of breaches over the last six months.
