I catch up with Lirra and Finn two days later and finish out the assignment King Aodren gave me before returning to Brentyn. Once there, I ride straight to Britta’s cottage. She’s not one who would stay away from her cottage for long. Since she was alert when I last saw her, there’s a good chance she’s returned to Brentyn.
Only, her shutters are closed. No smoke rises from the chimney. The stables show no sign of use all winter.
The loneliness that’s taken residency in my bones tightens its grip. I scratch my beard, letting my fingers graze my scar, the one piece of Britta I’ll always have. Then I set to work. Don’t know if she’ll ever return, but I want her land to be kept up and her belongings safe.
Over the next few days when I’ve some free time away from castle duties, I ride out to Britta’s cottage and tend the property. On a cold sunny morning, I find another horse there.
“Hello,” I call out, hand reaching for my blade.
Gillian throws open the cottage door. Her face, now clear of bruises, greets me with a wide smile. “I was wondering who cleaned up the stable.”
I hug her, laughing as she makes another comment about her fat heifer, and follow her inside.
“This where you snuck off to the other day?”
Leif’s voice has me spinning around. He’s sitting in Britta’s favorite spot—her papa’s wooden chair. A fire burns in the hearth. I make a mental note not to let myself get distracted by my thoughts in the future. Didn’t even see the smoke coming out of the chimney.
I shrug. “Figured it needed looking after.”
“I understand. Britta’s cottage reminds me of better times.” Leif’s voice is morose. Though leading the troops against Jamis’s forces gave him purpose for a time, he hasn’t returned to his jolly self. Makes me wonder if he ever will.
“What are you guys doing here?”
A blush crosses Gillian’s cheeks. “I came to air out the rooms for Britta, should she ever return. Leif was kind enough to help me.”
They share a small smile. It’s the softest expression I’ve seen on his face since Omar’s death. I’m glad for him. Aodren insisted he take Omar’s position as captain of the guard—cannot be easy. We haven’t talked much about Omar, though I’ve expressed my opinion a number of times. What happened on the Channeler’s field wasn’t Leif’s fault.
“I noticed the roof needs patching.” The sun has peeked out and melted the snow enough to show the thatch. “I’ll work on that.”
Gillian and Leif leave an hour or so later, but I work until the sky darkens. The best way to keep myself from drowning in should’ves and would’ves concerning Britta is to keep busy.
On another day, I mend a stall in the barn.
A time after that, I paint Britta’s door.
Winter gives way to spring, and Britta’s house remains empty and silent.
Chapter
51
Britta
WALKING INTO THE GREAT HALL, my legs are about as useful as pillars of dust. The memories of the Winter Feast come crashing back, nearly knocking me over. If it weren’t for Seeva, Torima, and Katallia at my side, I might turn back and head straight for my cottage. It’s been months since I’ve been home.
In the time that’s passed, my body has healed and I’ve learned even more about Channeling. I could live the rest of my life learning something new every day, and still not have enough time to grasp all the possibilities and good I could do with my gift. Though every now and then I feel the curl of darkness wind through my veins, I’ve vowed to use my Channeler magic only for good. I am not Phelia, nor will I ever be like her. I’ll be stronger, kinder, better.
The herald announces our arrival. “Lady Britta Flannery, Miss Torima Lolear of the Channelers Guild, Miss Katallia Barrett of the Channelers Guild, and Miss Seeva Soliel of the Channelers Guild.”
All eyes in the room land on us. A hush falls over the nobility—many new faces mixed in with a handful of familiar ones.
Seeva gently pushes my back. “Go on,” she whispers out of the corner of her mouth. “Be brave.”
As an official member of the Guild, I’m here today as a noblewoman, presenting these women to the kingdom. Across the room, just as on the night of the feast, Aodren sits at the head of the table in his father’s atrocity of a throne. His smile quirks as we walk down the stairs into the Great Hall.
No longer am I bound to Aodren by my Channeler magic. Through the rune, he was able to return my energy that lived within him. There’s nothing left to inform him of my presence. It’s our friendship that connects us. But it’s a struggle to look straight at Aodren when my eyes desperately want to seek out Cohen. I thought he’d be seated at the head of the room with the others in Aodren’s inner circle. Only, he’s not there.
It makes my steps into the room a little harder to take. But I continue on. When we reach the three stairs that lead up to Aodren’s throne, we lower ourselves into curtsies, our dresses draping on the floor, mine a puddle of palest blue.
Katallia had this dress made to resemble Cohen’s dress. It’s the same color and cut the same way. I’d hoped when Cohen saw me he’d . . . actually, I don’t know what I’d hoped. I’ve had a month since last seeing him to think about us. To ponder our connection and whether or not it influenced our relationship. It took over a month for my body to completely heal. In the time we’ve been apart, I’ve grown more certain that regardless of the connections I’ve had, and the current lack thereof, I love him. I love his desire to do what’s right. I love his recklessness. I even love his protective nature.
I wanted to tell him these things face-to-face. That’s why I waited.
I also hoped he’d be here to see me embrace who I am. It’s taken all this time apart for me to accept that being a Channeler is integral to who I am. And it’s not something I ever want to hide again.
My smile slumps, but I hitch it higher. Today I serve a great purpose. One that feels surreal and at the same time perfectly right. “Your Royal Highness, may I present my fellow Channelers, the women of the Guild.”
A few murmurs echo through the room. Under the lantern glow that paints the surrounding columns in golden hues, a handful of lords and ladies sit stiffly in their seats, whispering behind gloved hands.
I notice them, and just as quickly dismiss their chilling reception. Many people now understand for the first time that I am a Channeler. Not everyone is bound to be open to the idea of Channelers in Malam. It’ll take time. But thanks to the decree, we’re not hiding and living in fear. Even so, every now and then the temptation to be afraid comes, but I tamp it down. I have as much right to be here as these people. After all, I am Saul Flannery’s daughter.
Aodren asks us to rise. He then stands and bows in return to us. “Your presence here is always welcome. We are honored by your service to the kingdom.”