“I’m sure you’ve had plenty of incidents.” I gently pulled my hand away and continued strolling toward the courtyard.
In a couple of steps, Alaric had caught up with me. “What if I told you that after this trip, I would retire to less dangerous work?”
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
He took hold of my hand again, turning me to him. “I wonder, do you object to marriage altogether or only to marriage at the present time?”
Did he have a personal interest in the matter? The thought that he might ask for my hand made breathing difficult. Our friendship was enough. I didn’t want to change things.
I forced a smile, still light. “Perhaps my objections are because I know I would make an insufficient wife. I’m not likely to live through the end of the month.”
Alaric studied me so intently that I gulped under the pressure of his gaze. I expected him to argue the issue, but he released my hand. “I suppose there’s no point in pursuing the subject until we return from court. However, I wanted you to know, in case we don’t return, that?—”
Impulsively, I put my fingers to his lips to stop his words. “You mustn’t say such things. It’s tempting fate.”
He captured my hand, kept it held to his lips, and kissed my fingers. “Heaven forbid I tempt fate. Especially not after your prediction that neither of us will live through the month.” His tone had returned to joking again. That was comfortable. Normal. I could breathe once more.
With a genteel bow, he offered me his arm, the way a nobleman might escort a lady. I slipped my hand through his arm, and we made our way toward the courtyard. The birds chased one another around the treetops, chirping and trilling as though it were any other day. The sky was such a pretty, oblivious blue.
After a few steps in silence, Alaric said, “Sometimes I believe you see ghosts.”
“Ghosts?” I hadn’t expected that accusation. “It’s not in a wizard’s power to speak to spirits who’ve passed from this life.”
“Not those sorts of ghosts. Ghosts of your own making. Ghosts of the past.”
Oh. Ronan. Yes, I suppose he had a way of haunting me. “We’re all creations of our past.”
“You can be a creation of your future instead. I’ve seen you playing with the tenants’ children.”
Tenantwas a polite term for the peasants who worked Lady Edith’s fields. All of them were paid, not owned, and since they were paid per acre, wives often came to help their husbands plant and harvest. A few of them worked with babies on their backs and younger children toddling around behind them.
I’d been known to hold a baby or feed the young waifs some food from the manor. “One can’t always embroider,” I said.
“You deserve more than the life of a thief. If I can’t give that to you, I hope someone can.”
“I’ve been adopted into the highborn class,” I reminded him. “You’ve already given me more than I expected.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
I knew what he meant but knowing didn’t change anything. Love would always be a vulnerability I couldn’t afford.
CHAPTER 11
The trip to the king’s castle took an entire week and would’ve taken longer if I hadn’t cast spells beforehand to strengthen the horses and ensure the carriage wheels didn’t fall apart. Occasionally, when I thought the men at arms who rode with us wouldn’t notice, I also magicked the road ahead to make it smoother. This was a common task for wizards, and the men assumed some other highborn retinue had journeyed the way before us.
By the third day, I took to riding horseback because I couldn’t stand to be so tightly confined in the carriage with Gwenyth, Lady Edith, and Joanne, her lady’s maid. Especially since I had to listen to Lady Edith’s many complaints about running a manor house: the tenants were ungrateful and slow to pay their rents. Most of those who worked for her were slothful unless constantly watched. And how could she keep up with expenses when each year the rent she collected bought less and less at the market, while at the same time, the manor house required more repairs? Her late husband, Lord Eustace, had promised the tenants he wouldn’t raise their rents, and she wanted to honor his word, heaven knew that, but where would it leave her?
Apparently, it left her working for the renegades for extra coin.
Lady Edith didn’t protest my switch in mode of riding, most likely because she enjoyed the added room in the carriage my absence afforded. I wished I could ride next to Alaric and pass the time talking with him, but he rode with the men guarding our retinue, and they would’ve thought such attention odd.
On the fourth day, Gwenyth joined me in horseback riding. She was clearly a restless spirit as well. Or at least weary of nodding to Lady Edith’s complaints.
On the last night of our travels, we stayed at an inn not far from Valistowe so we could arrive at the castle in the morning, rested, bathed, and dressed in our finery. When I awoke the next day, nerves rattled my hands, and my mind seemed washed clean of everything I knew about the mission. I was certain I would forget some important detail.
The road from the village to Valistowe was as smooth as polished silver. Instead of enjoying a ride free of jarring, the steady, unbroken noise of the wheels felt ominous.
Even from a distance, I could tell Valistowe Castle, perched on the top of a vast hill, was larger and grander than any I’d visited. The gray stone walls stretched on and on, interrupted by five towers in the crenelated walls. There was something about seeing King Leofric’s red flags dotted with gold stars waving from the battlements that made the place imposing, as though a waiting knight stood behind each of those flags, sword drawn, and watching.