With a smirk, Ardyl eyed the shredded silks hanging from his belt. “You must have been in a rush to get to her. I trust that blood is not all hers?”
Nor his, though his heart had been torn away. Chest hollow, Maddek shook his head, then looked to Fassad. “Will you send the wolves to guard her door?”
The warrior tossed them each a bison joint to chew on and sent them off.
Kelir surged up to his feet, collecting two flagons of mead. “I will show you where the wash bucket is, because a bath will only leave you sitting in a bloodied pool. Then you can return to her.”
He could not. Maddek took the mead Kelir pushed into his hand but did not drink as he walked with the other warrior past the ship’s wings. There attendants filled buckets from the warm sea. Five dousings it took, removing armor and belt with each bucket tipped over his head, bloodied water running over the side of the deck and returned to the waves below. The shredded silks he gave to the attendants, not caring if ever he saw them again, and received a fine white robe in return. He tied it around his hips. His red linens were rolled up with his furs and those were in the chamber with Yvenne.
Where she sobbed, devastated by hurt and disappointment.
As if numb, Maddek returned to the solar, and there Banek gestured to a platter. “Best you take that back to her.”
Because his bride was always hungry. “I will not disturb her yet.”
Surprise crossed Toric’s expression. “Does she already sleep? Such a night it has been, I will not sleep for years.”
Maddek shook his head. “She does not yet sleep.”
“And you do not return to her?” With a grunt, Kelir threw himself back down to his sofa. “With a woman such as Yvenne in my bed, I would spread her thighs and—”
“Do not speak of her such,” Maddek warned him in a dangerous tone.
“And there is a bit of fire,” his friend laughed, though his eyes were keen on Maddek’s face. “The burning heart of our Dragon seemed doused, but I do not think it was the buckets that did it. Do you seek counsel? As Rani breathed into her dragon’s heart to reignite its spark, so we will respark yours.”
Counsel. That was not what he needed. He needed Yvenne.
But he might not have her again.
Throat raw, Maddek told them, “It is not counsel I seek from you all, but help.”
“You will have it,” Fassad said.
“Vela did not give favor to me, but a warning that if I do not have the heart of a king, I will not be able to protect Yvenne. And that I will lose her. If that occurs . . .” Hard he had to swallow before continuing. “If that occurs, I beg that you protect her.”
“So we will,” Ardyl said with a slight frown, leaning forward. “Now tell us what demon has possessed you, that you are not raging against Vela’s words and denying it will ever happen?”
“I have done that,” Maddek said thickly. “Now my bride does not welcome me back to her bed. And I have lost her.”
“I do not think you will lose her so easily.” Faint amusement lit Banek’s eyes. “Sit with us, Ran Maddek.”
Maddek did, for he had nowhere else to go.
Fassad asked quietly, “What is it she said?”
“That I have a twisted view of her. That I see her as a queenkiller.”
Kelir frowned, his drink halfway to his lips. “You did not believe what that snake-swiving sly-tongue said about Queen Vyssen?”
“I did not,” Maddek replied, rubbing his tired eyes. “But Yvenne claims it is true. She killed her mother.”
Stunned faces looked back at him. Then slowly shaking heads, as they all denied it—as Maddek had.
“What does Yvenne say occurred?” That from Toric, who seemed in a daze.
“She will not tell me. Instead she builds high walls between us. I have tried to—”
“Conquer her walls? Defeat them?” That was Toric again. “As Vela said you did.”
“It is truth. I have battered myself against them, tried to go over them, lured her out and received invitation . . .” His throat closed. No invitation did he have now. “Always she rebuilds them.”
* * *
• • •
Her walls,” Kelir echoed, then looked to Ardyl. “Our friend sees walls, yet she told him what they are to her. ‘What are walls but armor for a city?’”
“Or armor for a heart?” she said.
“Or armor over a wound.” Fassad tore off a soft chunk of bread. “A borrowfly once tried to carry away one of my brother’s pups, and in the fight Steel’s shoulder was stung. Not deep, but it became infected—and so painful that he growled and snapped at me if I attempted to touch it. More than any other, that wolf trusts me. Loves me. Yet he could not bear for me to tend to that injury without striking at me with his fangs.”
A painful injury as her mother’s death must be. Yet it was not only her mother’s death. For he’d first seen those walls the morning after he’d pulled at her tongue. The morning after he’d told her not to look to him for affection or love.
The morning after he’d betrayed her trust by telling her that he would not hurt her—and then doing so. She had said he made weapons when she revealed herself to him. He had not understood then. But now he did. They were not walls at all, but protection for her heart. Just as she’d armored her open wounds. And Maddek had been battering his way through to prod them.
Watching Maddek’s face, Kelir declared smugly, “So he finally sees.”
“What do you see?” Danoh asked, frowning at Maddek. “A queenkiller? Someone who is no more than her father’s daughter?”
Maddek shook his head.
Banek’s eyes narrowed. “You do not still believe she played any part in your mother’s death, except to send that letter in hope of escaping Zhalen?”
“I do not.” And that was truth, Maddek realized. Full truth. Not just accepting her word but still harboring doubts. No doubts did he have. “But that is the view her brother would have had me believe—that Yvenne had repeated a murder.”
“Yet she admitted to it?”
“After I told her what I thought it meant. That only in defense of her own life would she have ever harmed her mother. If Vyssen had been possessed by a demon or gone on a rampage. Blameless Yvenne would be then.”
“So she would,” Ardyl said. “Yet still you assume she would have done it with deliberation and intent. Did you not suppose she might have been tricked?”