He smiled. “I believe you’re right.”
“Now go and say that to Gabe,” Trina said.
He and Huge were finishing unsaddling their horses when I walked up. “No injuries?” I asked Huge. I still wouldn’t look directly at Gabe.
Huge shook his head. “Unfortunately, the carnox I fought with can’t say the same.”
I laughed at that and so did Gabe, and I wondered in that moment if that single joke would be the last thing Gabe and I might ever see the same way.
Settling my eyes on Gabe, I said to Huge, “Will you give us a minute alone?”
Huge looked from me over to Gabe, who had returned to working on his horse, then quietly dismissed himself.
Gabe continued to ignore me, which only made things harder. I wasn’t about to open with an apology if he couldn’t tear himself away from the fascination of saddle inspection. Trina was right—we did need to talk, but I wasn’t about to apologize to the side of his uninterested face. I grunted and began to walk away. We’d do this later, maybe in another twenty or thirty years.
But as I turned, he said, “I know where I hit you, and it wouldn’t have done all the damage I see now. Who was next in line to take a swing at you?”
“I spent time in Joth’s throne room.”
“Ah.” No sympathy was offered, only a shift of his stance for his next question. “Did you find her? Or let me be more specific. Did you find Harlyn there?”
“No. Nor did I find Kestra. But I managed to get Joth to agree to a duel with me at noon. No magic.”
“Congratulations. I noticed the way you were nursing your sword arm when you shook hands with Basil. Magic or not, Joth will be a tough opponent.”
“I’m hoping that when she has a moment, Loelle might heal me.”
Gabe threw his arms outward. “Look around us, Hatch. She won’t have a moment. We are overrun with the injured, and none of what we did made any difference! Endrick was killed without our help, and now what we have on the throne is worse.”
“This isn’t over. If Kestra still has the Olden Blade—”
“We’ve been through this, over and over and over again. So if you came here for the same fight we keep having—”
“I didn’t. I came to tell you that I know how you feel about Harlyn.” Gabe started to speak, but I quickly added, “I know you love her.”
Gabe closed his mouth, then opened it again to say, “Another quest that will make no difference, regardless of what I do. For weeks, I’ve watched her openly pursue you, only to be met with polite indifference, or at best, a kiss to her cheek that makes you appear to be in physical pain. And I know what she says in public, but I don’t believe she truly loves you. How can she, when you haven’t shared any piece of your heart with her? It is cruel the way you let her hold on to a thin hope for you to change when we both know you cannot tear yourself away from Kestra.”
“You’re right,” I said. “You’re right that I owe Harlyn every possible apology. Have you told her how you feel?”
“No, and I won’t. I’m not about to empty out my soul to her and have her reply that she can’t wait to marry you.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry I hit you, Simon. I never should have done that. But I’m not sorry for my reasons.”
I would’ve replied, but Gabe’s eyes had drifted behind me. I turned around and, to my surprise, saw Harlyn speaking to Trina, who pointed over at me. Our eyes met, and Harlyn motioned with her head that I should follow her.
I started toward Harlyn, but Gabe called out, “Hatch!” I paused but did not look back at him. Forced to speak to me thus, he said, “At least I do understand you now. I know what it’s like to care for someone who is beyond your reach. I haven’t changed my mind about Kestra, but I hope you know that I understand what it’s like to give a piece of your heart to someone who won’t return those feelings. Our situations are not so different.”
“How did you figure that?” Now I turned to him, angrier than when we’d fought. “Have I set terms for whether Harlyn gets to live, maybe offered to kill her myself? Have we spent hour after hour debating whether Harlyn’s life has any value beyond her use in battle? Will your own life be threatened if anyone discovers your feelings for Harlyn?”
Gabe looked down. “No, none of those.”
I frowned at him. “Then our situations are very different, and you do not understand. But if you want to try, begin here: I did not give Kestra a piece of my heart. She is my heart.”
Harlyn motioned to me again and I left Gabe, but when I had almost reached her, the heads of my cavalry rode through the gate. I offered Harlyn my arm and together we went to greet Commander Reese.
He looked in better condition than most others who had returned this morning, so I hoped he was bringing good news, but that didn’t appear to be so. He shook his head, dismounted, and gave me a low bow. “We lost ten riders. My first officer, Edgar, was among them. And maybe ten doesn’t seem like many compared to the losses others have taken, but it’s a tenth of my cavalry.”
“I’m very sorry.” The weight of responsibility for those losses was heavy on my shoulders. “I tried everything I could to keep the worst of the battle from reaching you.”
“I can see that.” Reese gave a deep sigh. “If you wish to remain our king, then you must trust us, as you ask us to trust you. We are soldiers. We are part of this battle too.”
“I’m glad to hear it, because this is not over. I still need you to keep our riders alert.”
“Our riders?” Commander Reese reached out to shake my hand, and for the first time I saw a sincere hint of respect in his eyes. “Yes, our riders are at your service.”
“We thank you,” Harlyn said. “But for now, you all must rest. Use any resources from Woodcourt that you need.”
“Thank you … my king.” He bowed to Harlyn. “And my future queen.”
Harlyn only lowered her eyes. “Can we go somewhere private?”
Our walk into the library was long and unusually quiet. I couldn’t help but think of how Gabe must be watching us, and hating me for leaving with her. How he must be wishing he could hit me again.
Once we entered the library, before Harlyn said another word, she checked that every door was closed and even glanced up at the windows high above us to be sure we were alone. When she finished, she turned to me, looking as nervous as I’d ever seen her. “Don’t get upset. The wound is gone.”
My brows furrowed. “What wound?”
Harlyn removed her cloak. Her dress was torn in several places, but most prominently, one sleeve was bloodstained. Her blood, I guessed.
“The wound is gone,” she repeated.
“How?” The only possible explanation seemed … impossible. “Kestra?”
She nodded. “You’ll be angry with me for most of this story, so I must remind you that I was only following orders you agreed to.”
“You tried to kill Kestra.”
“I fully intended to do it, and I still wonder if I should have done it when I had the chance. She was weakened—Joth had taken nearly all her strength. I don’t know how she found it in herself to continue running from me, but she did. Then she entered a tunnel that I think is used by Endrick’s Ironhearts. It was small and dark—”