Chapter 8: The Queen's Chest

Maelis found him in his chamber that night, alone, with the fire burned low.

He sat at the window in his chair, looking down the dark mountain.

He did not turn when she came in.

"Say it," said Torvald. "You have been holding it since the hall."

"My mother's chest is in this keep."

"Yes."

"The envoy says you took it."

"I bought it." He turned the chair to face her.

"Six years ago, after the queen died, your father wanted her things gone.

"He sent them across the border to be burned in the dragon yards."

"And you stopped it?"

"I paid him a barrel of fire-salt and took the chest unopened." His voice was flat.

"I did not want a dead woman's things to burn in an alley."

She stared at him.

"You never told me."

"You never asked."

"I did not know to ask." Her voice shook. "And the door in the bath corridor? The bird, and my name?"

His face did not change, but his hands tightened on the wheels.

"That is mine to explain, and not tonight."

"Torvald."

"Not tonight, Maelis." He reached to his belt and drew out an iron key, shaped like a small flame.

"But the chest is yours.

"Take it."

She took the key.

It was warm in her hand.

He rolled out of the chamber ahead of her without another word, and she followed.

The iron door opened with a long sigh.

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