Markham’s swings grew wilder. “Come on, lad. Defend yourself.”
To his credit, Ian was really trying, but it was hard to fight back whilst shouldering the pain. Markham’s attacks pushed him further and further back, losing footing. Sweat beaded his brow.
If the lesson was about footwork, the objective had been lost. It was now about pain.
She was just about to intervene when Miriam’s blade cut across them. “That’s enough,” she said. “Get yourself to the healer’s, Ian. She’ll sort you out.”
The boy hobbled away, head bowed gratefully or in embarrassment, it was hard to tell.
Miriam turned to Markham. “That was unnecessary. The boy was injured.”
“He needs to learn to fight through pain.”
“He will,” Miriam said, “if he needs to. But not today. That wasn’t the lesson.”
“War won’t wait for him,” Markham said darkly. “You know what might be coming.”
Miriam’s eyes narrowed. “I know having his ankle seen to today won’t make tomorrow any harder.”
“You’re too soft.”
“And you’re too hard!” Miriam spat back, harder than Juliana had ever heard her. She shook her head, sighing. “What happened to you? You’re not the knight you once were. Not theman.”
Markham shrugged, turning away. He did not yet seem to have noticed Juliana. “Everything good about me went with her.”
Juliana’s stomach churned uncomfortably. Miriam, too, seemed to tighten her face, the awkwardness palpable. “You’ve had a long journey,” she said quietly. “Take some time to rest.”
Markham said nothing, and Miriam turned away. Pretending she’d only just arrived, Juliana slid into the ring and bounded towards his side.
“Father!” she said, half leaping into his arms.
Markham clung to her, and for just a moment, she felt like the child he’d left behind all those years ago, when nothing else in the world was better than his return.
“How was the mission?”
“Oh, you know, wiped out some ogres, took down a giant—the usual.”
“No trace of Ladrien’s supposed army?”
Her father shook his head. “They must be somewhere, but that land is almost impassible. Besides, we won’t find Ladrien there.”
“No?” Juliana frowned. “Where else could he be so well concealed, for so long?”
“He never liked the cold,” Markham responded. “Or so the old faeries say. Avoided it wherever he could.” He waved a hand. “I digress. How are you, daughter?”
Juliana shrugged. “Nothing to report. It’s been painfully dull around here.”
“And the Prince? Still pulling at your braids?”
“If he tried it now, he’d lose a finger.”
Markham smiled, and patted her head. “That’s my girl.”
He put his arm around her, and they walked back to the barracks together. For a moment, Juliana let herself believe that all was fine.
But only for a moment.
AfewmonthsafterHawthorn had asked Juliana to become his guard, his mother decided to take the entire royal procession to visit the Autumn Court, a visit declared ‘long overdue’ somewhat awkwardly, seeing as the family had had little communication with Autumn since the incident with Lucinda almost four years ago.
