Still, I continued, so focused on my work that I was becoming immune to the cold. I felt the chill in the air, but it no longer bothered me. Rather, it was the heat from Loelle’s evening fires that made me uncomfortable, so I began to sit near the door, leaving it cracked open enough that I could rest.
The evenings were most difficult. That was when my thoughts drifted toward Simon, wondering if he was still the Halderian king, wondering if he was now married to Harlyn Mindall. Wondering if he had ever tried to find me.
Then, one morning, I said to Loelle, “Simon was wrong about me getting magic.”
Loelle looked up from a book she had been reading. “Oh? In what way?”
“He thought it would corrupt me, but consider all the good I’ve been able to do for these woods.”
Loelle’s smile saddened. “Yes, you’ve done what no one else could.”
“Let me heal Darrow,” I said. “I’ve earned that much.”
“You have,” Loelle said. “Soon, Kestra. I promise.”
Soon. I would see my father again soon.
Until then, I had work to do.
We were a month into winter, and there hadn’t been one sign of Kestra anywhere in Antora, nor beyond. With the permission of Captain Tenger, the leader of the Corack rebellion, Trina and Gabe and a few other Coracks had been combing the land for Kestra, and so far, their search for even the barest hint of her had come up empty. Despite recovering from a terrible illness at the time Kestra left and my new responsibilities as king of the Halderians, I’d ventured out myself as often as possible, but every trace of her had vanished.
Loelle had hidden her well, likely with the use of whatever magic she possessed beyond her abilities as a physician. I was certain she would keep Kestra alive, but I couldn’t fathom why Loelle had taken her away in the first place. All I knew was that Kestra’s absence had pierced a hole in my heart and it only became worse with each passing day.
Every time I returned home from an attempt to find her, Harlyn met me in the stables. She never asked about Kestra directly, likely because she already knew how I’d answer.
Instead, her question today was, “How is your arm?” She’d asked this before, and I’d come to understand that she was really asking, “How are you?”
Barely looking at her, I said, “Everything’s fine.”
Which was true only in the sense that my arm was fine. I, on the other hand, was miserable.
I dismounted, and as I did, she touched my right arm, pretending to study it when we both knew she wanted a reason to approach me.
“It hasn’t softened,” she said.
“It never will,” I replied. “You know that, Harlyn.”
In the battle with the Dominion, I’d discovered a Rawkyren, a young dragon, being tormented by Ironheart soldiers. I had rescued the dragon, but somehow its blood had mixed with mine, and now the flesh beneath my right arm was as strong as a dragon’s scales.
At first, the Rawkyren could land on my arm without causing injury, despite digging its claws into my flesh for support. But the Rawkyren was too large for that now, almost the size of the Dominion’s giant condors, and growing more each day. It accompanied me on every search for Kestra, though it usually remained on its own in the wild while I was here in Nessel.
Harlyn lowered her eyes. “I do know that. But I fear the injury did more than turn your arm to stone. I believe it turned you to stone. Will you never look at me with anything but contempt?”
I placed my hand over hers. “It’s not contempt, but we both know you haven’t told me everything about the night Kestra left, about why she left.”
Her eyes became teary. “Gerald already explained it to you.”
“Did he?” I pulled my hand free and stepped back. She remained where she was, but as I started out the stable doors, Gerald walked in, giving me a quick bow. I glanced over at Harlyn, wondering if this was yet another secret plan, but this time she looked as confused as I did.
“Come with me, now,” Gerald said.
We immediately followed. He led us through a rear corridor of the manor that served as a sort of castle in exile, with me as a king in exile, ruling over a people I barely knew, and with Harlyn the only connection between us. Gerald brought us to the doors of a room where I met with the officers of what little army the Halderians still had. The door was slightly ajar, and Gerald motioned for Harlyn and me to come forward where we could hear.
“… but like it or not, Simon is the king.” The man who was speaking was named Edgar, and he was one of the finest officers in the cavalry. “We serve him.”
“But who does Simon serve?” This man was Reese. He was the current head of the cavalry. “Not us, not our people.”
“Master Thorne assured us that Simon was the king we’ve been waiting for. Commander Mindall trusts him too.”
A third man, whose voice I didn’t recognize, said, “Commander Mindall is too sick for his word to be trusted, and even so, he only supports Simon because his daughter will become the queen.”
“We would serve her,” Reese said. “But has Simon given any indication of wanting to marry her? No. I say the rumors are true, that the king is in love with the Infidante.”
“If he is, then he’ll have to be removed,” the third man said. “It was bad enough that the Infidante is a Dallisor, that she’s one of them. But now she also has magic, which means she must have Endrean blood too, the blood of the tyrant. I’ve heard rumors of the real reason Kestra Dallisor was sent away from here, and it’s worse than you can imagine. If our king has any place in his heart for Kestra Dallisor, he will have to be removed too.”
“Removed?” Edgar asked. “That’s treason.”
“Call it what you want, but it must be,” Reese said. “We can’t afford to have our people divided, not in these dangerous times.”
I turned on my heel and marched away, my hands balled into fists. Gerald and Harlyn followed until we reached my room, then Gerald shut the door behind us.
“We have to find Kestra,” I said. “If they mean to harm her—”
“Weren’t you listening?” Gerald asked. “They intend to harm you!”
“We have to prove to them that she’s on our side, that they’re wrong—”
“They’re not wrong,” Gerald said. “She is more like Endrick than us, and you know for yourself that she has begun to corrupt. I didn’t bring you to hear that conversation for Kestra’s sake. I’m trying to protect you!”
I glanced over at Harlyn, whose eyes were lowered. She wouldn’t look at me.
“Listen carefully,” Gerald said. “There is a supper tonight. When it is finished, Simon, you will offer marriage to Harlyn, and, Harlyn, you will accept.”
Harlyn opened her mouth to say something, but Gerald quickly added, “I know that neither of you wants a marriage to happen this way, but it must and it will. Refuse, and believe me when I say that within the week, there will be a challenge for the crown, and one way or another, it will end in death. When I see you tonight, after the supper, I will raise a toast in honor of the king, and, Simon, you will raise it in honor of your new queen. Are we agreed?”