“I’ve not felt . . . myself this past year. It feels like someone else is living in my skin and I just . . .” Ventillas pressed a hand against his heart as though he longed to rip it free. “I need to go.”
“Kemen.” Cas thought of his brother’s friend standing outside the plague graveyard at Palmerin. Don’t let Ventillas come again. Please, Cassia. He’s here almost every night. It is not good for him.
“He stayed behind at Palmerin while I traveled to Brisa, and he died before I returned.” Ventillas looked into the fire. “We are not promised a long life, Cassia. Just a life. Take what happiness you can. Hold tight to it.”
Cas very carefully did not think of Lena. “I just came back. And you’ll go.”
“I’d take you with me if I could. No,” Ventillas added at Cas’ look. “I can’t. You belong here.”
It had only been an idea, briefly considered. “I know it.”
Ventillas stood. “Master Jac will watch over Palmerin. Captain Lorenz will take charge of the men. You’ll have to go home occasionally. The people need to see you.”
“I understand.”
Cas helped his brother pack. No servants were sent to assist. A knock on the door brought a wooden box. It contained the king’s seal, which Ventillas would need abroad. No gold, though. The king had meant it when he said Ventillas would be paying his own way. A sheaf of parchment relayed information on his new post. Ventillas glanced at it briefly, then set it aside.
Cas, thinking of the queen and the prince, asked, “Do you think he’ll keep them away forever?”
“I don’t know,” Ventillas admitted. “He loves her, anyone can see that. I’m not sure it will be enough.”
Ventillas departed in the predawn hours with only Cas to say farewell. The king had forbidden anything more. Ventillas reached down from his horse and clasped Cas’ arm one last time. “I’ll be at the harbor in Trastamar five years from today. Today, Cassia. Come and get me.”
“I’ll be there. Go safely.” Cas stepped back. He tucked away his grief for later and sent his brother off with a salute, a smile.
Ventillas glanced upward at a window where a figure stood watching. He bowed his head, a farewell to his king, then turned his horse and was gone.
30
The following day, once again in the early morning hours, Cas watched as Captain Lorenz led the Palmerin soldiers out of the city. The captain carried a letter to Master Jacomel, one Cas had promised to send if his return would be delayed. It would be. For how long, he did not know. Only when the last man in red had vanished did he turn away. He rode his mare to the central parish where the booksellers kept their shops, and stopped before a house with a green door.
Cas did not knock. Not at this hour. He dismounted and went around to the stables, where he found a young groom carrying a bucket full of oats. Catching sight of Cas, the boy lowered the bucket to the ground.
Cas pressed his face into the mare’s neck, heard her nicker in response. She had been a good friend to him. “Goodbye.” He offered the boy the reins. “She’s for your lady. Tell her . . .”
The groom took the reins and smiled at the horse. He waited.
“Tell her I said thank you. Tell her I said goodbye.”
“Will you leave your name, sir?”
Cas gave it, along with a silver stoat that had the boy grinning in surprised delight. Shoulders hunched against the cold, Cas left for the palace on foot.
In the palace stables, his ring secured him a handsome bay with a shiny brown coat and an even temperament. The cortege had already begun to depart, a far smaller train of carriages and guards than had left Palmerin. The queen’s carriage was near the rear, not yet moving. Cas rode up beside it and looked in the window.
She was alone. Dressed in blue. Her profile revealed someone deep in thought, quite possibly the saddest person he had ever seen, if he did not count himself.
“Your Grace,” Cas said.
Her head came up quickly. Shock chased away all signs of misery. “What are you doing here?”
“Riding south. Or so I heard.”
The queen took in his traveling clothes, his horse, the ring that proclaimed him the queen’s man. “No. This is not a temporary journey for me, Lord Cassiapeus. It is exile.”
“I know what it is, Your Grace.”
They looked at each other, truly looked, for the first time since he had discovered her secret and said goodbye to his brother for five long years. The queen dropped her gaze first. “You should go home.”
Cas wanted nothing more. The rings felt heavy on his hand. “I will if you wish it. But I’ve already promised the king I would be here.”
She looked past Cas to the palace windows, searching for a man who was not there. “He knows you’re coming?” At Cas’ nod, she asked, “What did he say?”
“He did not tell me to go home.”
The queen was quiet. “You’ve lost your brother because of me. I don’t even know where Coronado is.”
“West.” It would be a simple thing to place the blame on her shoulders alone. “Ventillas isn’t a child. You couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to. I’m his brother. I’ve tried.”
“Nevertheless. I have made such a mess of things.”
“Yes,” Cas said. “But not only you.”
A small crowd had gathered on the palace steps to wave goodbye to the train. Many, Cas saw, were those who had traveled with them from Palmerin. People who had attended the prince’s naming ceremony, who had come to know the queen a little. Most appeared baffled, clearly wondering why she was leaving Elvira so soon after she had arrived. High Councilor Amador was there, eyeing Cas with a sour expression. Beside him was his sister, Lady Rondilla, smiling widely as she watched the carriages depart. Seeing them, the queen took a deep breath. She lifted her chin a notch higher.
The nurse Esti approached carrying Prince Ventillas. Seeing her had Cas taking another look at the crowd. He found Bittor off to the side by a potted tree, watching the nurse’s departure with a glum look on his face. It occurred to Cas that he had never actually seen them speak.
Before Esti reached the carriage, Queen Jehan said to Cas, “You may stay until we’ve settled and then you must return home. It’s much to ask, Lord Cassiapeus. But I would be grateful for a friendly face on this journey.”
Cas looked at her, and the queen smiled suddenly. “A familiar face,” she amended. “That will do just as well.”
It was nearly midday before Cas found himself summoned to the front of the train. Commander Terranova and Ventillas had moved up the ranks together. He was a big man on a big horse, one of the few soldiers who made Cas appear frail in comparison. He rode with a lieutenant to his right, a friendly sort who greeted Cas with a smile.
Commander Terranova had no smiles to spare for Cas. “You were not expected on this journey, Lord Cassia.”