Chapter 11: Six Years of Letters

An hour after the breakfast hall, Ronan Aldermere walked his own keep alone for the first time in six years, and nobody stopped him.

The guards at every landing straightened as he passed.

The cooks in the kitchen put down their ladles.

He did not know what to do with their faces, so he nodded and kept walking.

His legs felt strange under him.

They were steady, and that was the strange part.

Sorrel had barely slept for two nights, so he had carried her up after the breakfast.

She was asleep in the east tower, in his bed, with her hair across the pillow and her hand curled where his chest had been.

He had stood over her for a long while before he left.

She had slept deeply, peacefully, as though a heavy burden had finally been lifted.

He did not intend to wake her until he knew how bad the morning was going to get.

In the courtyard the lord from Thornhall was already mounted, with his book strapped under his cloak and four outriders around him.

"Your Grace." The man bowed from the saddle, and it was a real bow. "I will give the council a faithful account."

"See that you do."

"Prince Edmund?"

"Stays here, in the guest tower, with two guards and a lamp." Ronan did not look up at the tower. "He may write to our mother. I will read it first."

The lord rode out through the gate, and the gate closed.

Ronan stood in the yard with his hands at his sides.

Edmund had lied to Sorrel in the stable court that same week.

Ronan had watched it from the north wall and said nothing, because he had no right to.

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