One
AS THE CARRIAGE ROLLED ON, I looked over my shoulder out the tiny rear window, as if someone might be coming after me. I reminded myself the notion was ridiculous; there wasn’t anyone left in Coroa to follow me. Not anymore.
Silas—my husband—was dead, as were my parents. I still had a few friends at court, but they were far more loyal to King Jameson, and that would be especially true in the wake of me jilting him the very night he planned to propose. As for Jameson himself . . . at least it seemed I had his forgiveness for running away with a commoner—a foreign commoner, no less. Even so, Delia Grace had taken my place by the king’s side, and I didn’t want it back.
That was everyone. The only other people I cared about were in the carriage beside me. Still, I looked.
“I spent the majority of my adult life doing the exact same thing,” my mother-in-law, Lady Eastoffe, commented, placing a hand on my lap. Across from us, my sister-in-law, Scarlet, slept on the other bench. Even in sleep, there was something about her posture that said she was ready to wake in a split second, a demeanor she’d adopted since the attack.
Just out the side window, Etan, proud and irritating on his horse, kept watch. He surveyed the thin mist, and I could tell by the way he kept tilting his head that he was listening for signs of danger.
“Hopefully after this trip, we can all stop looking behind us,” I commented.
Lady Eastoffe—no, she was my mother now—nodded, looking solemnly at Scarlet. “Hopefully, once we reach the Northcotts, we’ll find a way to confront King Quinten. After that, everything will be settled . . . one way or another.”
I swallowed, reflecting on the finality of those words. One day, we would either walk out of King Quinten’s palace victorious, or we’d never walk out.
Studying my new mother, it was still shocking to know she’d willingly walked into a marriage that tied her so closely to such a wicked king. But, then again, I’d unwittingly done the same.
The Eastoffes were descendants of Jedreck the Great, the first in the long-running line of kings on the Isolten throne. Isolte’s current ruler, King Quinten, was descended from the first son of Jedreck, but not his first child. The Eastoffes were descendants of Jedreck’s third son. Only dear old Etan—a Northcott—could boast a lineage dating back to Jedreck’s firstborn child, a daughter who had been passed over in favor of a boy.
Whatever the history, Quinten saw all Eastoffes and Northcotts as threats to his reign, which was coming to a swift close unless his son suddenly took a turn to better health.
I didn’t understand it.
I didn’t understand why he seemed intent on driving away—no, murdering—men who held royal blood. Prince Hadrian was not exactly the stoutest of souls, and when King Quinten himself died, as all mortals do, someone would have to take the throne. It made no sense to me that he was killing off everyone with a legitimate claim to it.
Silas included.
So, here we were, determined to ensure that the ones we lost didn’t die in vain and painfully aware of how likely we were to fail in the process.
“Who goes there?” We heard the barking call over the squeaking of the wheels. Instantly, the carriage pulled to a stop. Scarlet was immediately upright, her hand pulling out of her skirts a small knife I didn’t know she’d been hiding.
“Soldiers,” Etan murmured. “Isolten.” Then louder, he called: “Good afternoon. I am Etan Northcott, a soldier in His Majesty’s—”
“Northcott? That you?”
I watched as Etan’s face softened, his eyes squinting. He was suddenly much more at ease.
“Colvin?” he called back. There was no answer, so I took it to the affirmative. “I’m escorting my family back home from Coroa. By now you will have heard about my uncle. I’m bringing his widow and daughters home.”
There was a pause, hinting at the confusion this created, when the soldier started speaking again.
“Widow? Surely you don’t mean Lord Eastoffe is dead?”
Etan’s horse bucked beneath him, but he steadied him quickly. “Indeed. And his sons. I was charged by my father to bring the rest of the family back to safety.”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Our condolences to your family. We will let you through, but we must do a security check. Protocol.”
“Yes, of course,” Etan agreed. “I understand.”
The soldier approached to examine our carriage while another walked around the outside, looking beneath the frame. By his voice, I recognized that the one looking in on us was the one Etan had been speaking with. “My Lady Eastoffe,” he said, tipping his head toward Mother. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“We thank you for your concern. And for your service,” she replied.
“You ladies are lucky to have been met by the best regiment in Isolte,” he said, puffing his chest. “This road is usually crawling with Coroans. They set fire to a border village not two weeks ago. If they’d come upon you, I don’t know what would have happened.”
I swallowed, looking down, then turned my eyes back to the soldier. The connection of an additional lady in the Eastoffe family and the direction we were coming from all came together for him in an instant. He squinted at me and then looked back to Etan for confirmation.
“My cousin Silas’s widow,” he explained.
The soldier shook his head. “Can’t believe Silas is gone . . . or that he married,” he added, looking back at me. In his head, he seemed to be amending his thoughts, tacking on that what he really couldn’t believe was that he’d married a Coroan.
Not many people could.
His eyes shifted from slightly judgmental to entertained. “Can’t blame you for wanting to get out of there,” he said to me, lifting his chin to the road behind us. “I don’t keep up with much going on in Coroa, but it’s impossible not to hear how your king has all but gone mad.”
“Really?” Etan asked. “It’s not as if he was that sane in the first place.”
The soldier laughed. “Agreed. But apparently some girl rejected him, and he’s been erratic ever since. Rumors are he’s taken an axe to one of his best boats, right there on the river where anyone could see. We’ve heard that he’s got someone new but isn’t faithful to her in any sense of the word. Heard he set his castle on fire a few weeks ago, too.”
“I’ve been to Keresken,” Etan said flatly. “A fire could only improve it.”
It took everything in me to bite my tongue. Not even at his worst would Jameson want to destroy the pinnacle of Coroan craftsmanship that was Keresken Castle.
The only rumor that might pain me if true was the thought of Jameson seeing other girls behind Delia Grace’s back. I hated the idea of her thinking she’d finally gotten what she wanted and being so very wrong.
The soldier barked a laugh at Etan’s quick wit, then became serious. “With how unpredictable he’s been, there’s talk of a possible invasion. That’s why we have to check the carriages, even with those we trust. Seems Crazy King Jameson could do anything at this point.”
I could feel myself blushing and hated it. None of this was true, of course. Jameson wasn’t crazy or planning an invasion or anything of the sort . . . but the look of suspicion on that man’s face told me to keep my thoughts to myself.
Mother placed a comforting hand on my knee and spoke out the window to the guard. “Well, we certainly understand and thank you again for your thoroughness. And I will make sure to say special prayers for all of you once we’re safely home.”
“It’s clear,” the other soldier called from the opposite side of the carriage.
“Of course it is,” he replied loudly. “It’s the Eastoffes, you nit.” He shook his head, then backed away from the carriage. “Move the barricades!” he called to the others. “Let them through. Stay safe out there, Northcott.”
Etan nodded to him, keeping his thoughts to himself for once.
As we came upon the border, I could see dozens of men outside the window. Some saluted, showing their respect, while others simply gawked. I feared that maybe one of them would connect me to the girl who had allegedly driven her king to madness, that they’d demand that I get out of the carriage and go back to him.
No one did.
I’d walked into this journey willingly. More than that, I’d chased it down. But that one incident made me aware that I wasn’t just crossing a border; I was stepping into a different world.
“It should be smooth sailing to the manor,” Etan said when we were clear of the crowd.
Scarlet placed the knife that she’d kept tucked under her demure little hands beneath the folds of her skirts again. I shook my head; what exactly had she planned to do with that anyway? Mother reached over and wrapped an arm around me. “One obstacle down, countless more to go,” she joked.
And, for what it was worth, I laughed.
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