Rimoth started toward the kitchen door.
“Wait! Why?” Larkin asked.
Garrot’s hand flashed out, slapping her. She cupped her cheek, shocked. “We know much about the Alamant already,” he said. “If I catch you lying to me again, I’ll have her beaten. Lie to me twice, and Rimoth gets to have fun with her.”
Larkin closed her eyes. The druids would never make it past the Forbidden Forest, not with the wraiths and mulgars in their way. So she began drawing, pleading ignorance as often as she dared.
Shortly after Larkin finished the list, the tailors came, fitting her in a rich red gown for her wedding, which they took away to make alterations to. She went to the window and caught sight of her sister working in the garden. Larkin watched her limp to the pump, fill a bucket, and carry the water to the new plants.
Worried sick for her sister, Larkin formed her sword and cut through the lock on the door. Slipping her shoes off, she moved soundlessly down the stairs, relieved the house seemed empty. That still left the guards at either side of the back door.
Larkin formed her sword and her shield and shoved the door open. The guards turned to her, faces going slack with shock. “Run and tell Garrot I escaped.”
One of the men drew his short sword and swung it at her. Larkin’s sword cut it in half. She slammed her shield into him, throwing him back a dozen paces. She glared at the other guard, who took off running without a word, the first guard scrambling after him.
Larkin stalked down the garden path. Her sister backed away, pale face terrified. No matter what Nesha had done, she was still her sister. She had to know Larkin wouldn’t hurt her. She released the magic as her sister reached for the barn door and yanked it open.
“I’ll cut it open,” Larkin called after her.
Nesha hesitated a moment, and then her shoulders slumped. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to make sure you were all right after Rimoth . . .”
Nesha chuckled without humor. “Garrot wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. I came into the back with Rimoth, and he stood there while I screamed.”
Larkin’s mouth fell open. “Why would you do that?”
“To get you to tell us the truth!”
Larkin saw what she’d failed to before. First, because of Nesha’s bulky apron, and then because of the angle and distance of the second-story window, but she could see it clearly now—the hard lump that was her sister’s stomach.
Larkin gasped in shock. “How long have you been sleeping with him?”
“How long were you sleeping with him?” Nesha shot back.
Larkin half shook her head, not understanding. “I’d never let Garrot touch me!”
“Garrot?” Nesha laughed bitterly. “You think Garrot did this?” She wrapped her hands around her stomach. “No, this was months ago, Larkin, long before Garrot ever arrived in Hamel.”
The boy Larkin had seen her sister with the nights the druids had come. But why would Nesha ask how long Larkin had been sleeping with him? “Why would I—” It all clicked into place. “Bane?”
Nesha shook her head in disgust. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know, little sister. You saw us together that night. And the very next day I find you in his arms. Then you convinced Mama to marry him to you instead of me!”
Larkin staggered back as if Nesha had slapped her. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. But then, Alorica had hated Larkin for the same reason. “I never saw his face. I didn’t even know Mama was going to ask— Does Mama know?”
Nesha sniffed. “You were always her favorite. Sela’s too.”
Larkin spread her hands. “So you betray me instead of talking to me.”
“You’re the traitor, not me.” Nesha spat to ward off evil. “You’ve chosen those cursed pipers instead of your own people—your own flesh and blood.”
“What’s going on here?” Larkin turned to find Garrot coming into the yard with a dozen druids behind him.
She turned back to her sister. “After he threatened to hurt Mama and the little ones, you’re defending him?”
“Threats are different from actions. He took me in, gave me a job when everyone else would have watched me starve.” Nesha straightened. “Garrot does what he has to in order to save the Idelmarch. If you weren’t a traitor, he wouldn’t have to threaten anyone.”
“Larkin,” Garrot barked. “You’ve caused your sister enough heartache. Back inside.”
Hurt and anger and confusion roiled in Larkin, but the strongest emotion by far was loss. “What makes you believe him over me?”
“I was there, remember? I saw it happen.”
Larkin shook her head. “You don’t know what you saw. Garrot has warped your sense of reality.” Larkin heard the soldiers spreading out around her, felt their unwavering gazes. She glanced sidelong, enough to note the drawn bows.
Larkin turned to find Garrot had halved the distance between them, hand on his sword. She hadn’t even reached for her magic yet. “Since I’ve outlived my usefulness, do you plan to kill me?” She shook her head. “Tell me, Garrot, do you actually believe these lies?”
Garrot’s eyes slipped past her to Nesha, and Larkin heard the slightest shuffling that told her Nesha had retreated. Garrot visibly relaxed.
“Did you really think I’d hurt my own sister?”
“Giving you a room in my own house was a courtesy. You were to stay there.”
Larkin looked toward the distant forest. How far could she make it before Garrot brought her down?
“Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”
Larkin worked her jaw. Without another word, she went back inside and up to her room. She stood before the largest window, overlooking the street. She saw Bane come. He hesitated and pulled his hands through his hair, hat in hand, before finally coming inside. She heard him climb the stairs, the door groan open, and his tentative footsteps as he approached.
She didn’t turn to face him. She was too afraid she’d draw her sword and do something she couldn’t take back. “Did you know Nesha’s pregnant with your child?”
His steps stopped. She heard him turning his hat nervously in his hands. “My father wouldn’t let me marry her.”
“And Alorica?”
Bane huffed and started pacing. “Alorica wanted to be the next lord’s wife. She didn’t want me.”
Alorica had implied there had been more to it than that. “It didn’t stop you from sleeping with her.”
His jaw hardened. “She pushed for that more than I did. It was before I knew what she was really like, and long before you and I ever started.”
So, Bane had slept with Alorica . . . and Nesha. Who else? Larkin gripped the windowsill, fingers aching. She forced herself to face him. “Did you ever love me at all?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Not like that—at least, not at first.”
She fought to keep her face from betraying the humiliation ravaging her. She hadn’t thought Bane could hurt her any more than he already had. “When did that change?”
He sagged in defeat. “Do you really want to know?”
No. “Yes.”
He slumped against the wall not far from her. “You were like a sister to me, but after your mother asked me to save you, I decided to try kissing you, to see if there was any spark at all. I was surprised when there was.”
That day by the river. He’d been so hesitant and she so thrilled, then Nesha had seen them. “Ancestors.” No wonder her sister hated her. She rubbed her eyes, wanting him to stop but even more desperately needing to know everything. “When did you find out about the baby?”
He was silent for time. “Not long after we kissed. She hid it from me because she didn’t want me marrying her because of the baby. I tried to convince her that we could still be together. After all, I was marrying her sister to save her life. I wouldn’t be the first lord to have a mistress.”
She was going to kill him. “It doesn’t work like that, Bane.”
He spr
ead his hands. “What did you want me to do? I loved both of you. You both needed me. Should I have abandoned one of you? I had the means to provide for both of you, and Nesha would never have been allowed to marry. You’re sisters. You should want what’s best for each other.”
“By that logic, you shouldn’t have a problem sharing me with Denan.”
Everything in him hardened. “The situations are not comparable.”
“Why did you trick me into coming back with you?”
“To save you,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You still don’t believe me when I tell you I could change things.”
“Larkin . . .”
Her eyes narrowed. “Say it, Bane.”
He held out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “You’re just one girl.”
His words shuddered through her. She backed away from him, leaning against the windowsill. “One girl can change everything.”
His expression turned pitying. “He told you that to make you stay. He told you what you wanted to hear.”
As if he had done any differently. “You should have believed me, Bane.”
He took a step toward her. “You’ll see. When the thrall fades and you’re back to yourself, you’ll—”
She drew upon her shield between them. “You don’t want to see. You want things to be what they were, but they’ll never go back to what they were—if that ever existed at all.”
He swallowed hard. “Nesha won’t speak to me anymore. It will just be you and me, like you wanted.”
“I’m not under any thrall. Denan isn’t—”
“Don’t say his name!” He punched the wall, plaster falling around his hands. He groaned and pulled back, cradling his hand. “Why did you have to kiss him?”
All the blood drained from her face. “After what you did, you don’t get to be angry about that.”
Bane braced himself against the wall, eyes shut tight. “I spend a week chasing after you. I nearly died more times than I could count. I hid behind enemy lines and stole what little food I could find for days. I finally found you—and you’re kissing him like he’s life and you’re dying.”
Ancestors, this really was the end of her friendship with Bane. He’d been the very best part of her for so long. Pieces of Larkin were flaking off, falling around her like a tree shedding its leaves before the killing frost.
Bane took a ragged breath. “You’re telling me you weren’t under his thrall. That means you meant to kiss him.” A silent sob tore through Larkin. Bane moved slowly toward her, his gaze boring through her. “Which is it, Larkin?”
She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch the devastation play out across his features. “I meant to kiss him.”
Bane turned on his heel and slammed the door after him. Larkin winced, the sound shuddering through her, and then the silent sobs became audible, tearing through her with the force of a blizzard.
The door closed behind the tailor and his crew, finally leaving Larkin alone. One of the pins in her tightly curled hair dug mercilessly into her scalp. Trying to rearrange it, she approached the mirror they’d left for her. She looked abnormally pale; whether because of the powder they’d used to try to cover her freckles or because she was being forced to marry again, she wasn’t sure.
The dress was a monstrosity, the gold bodice fitted over a corset and shift. The underskirt added a ridiculous amount of volume. The deep ruby overdress was like a coat, buckled snugly under her bust, surrounded by pleats. Shining beads caught the light and shimmered when she walked. But if it was a monstrosity, then Larkin supposed it was a beautiful one.
A song wove through the darkened streets, dancing across the rooftops before swirling around Larkin. She rested her forehead against the cool glass of her prison. It was her heartsong—hers and Denan’s. He was here. He was calling for her, and she couldn’t go to him. Longing and sadness swelled until it burst. She trembled with the effort of ignoring that call, and then it stopped. She rubbed at the ache in her chest—unsure if the pain was from loss of the song or hope for what that song meant.
From the heart of the town, torchlight wavered in a long stream. They were coming for her. A line of druids appeared—at least fifty of them. Their flickering lamps cast their faces in sinister shadows. Rimoth and Garrot separated themselves from the others and looked up at her, daring her to deny them.
She wasn’t afraid. Denan was coming for her. Donning the wedding cloak, she tugged the hood over her hair and left the house without a backward glance, meeting them at the front door, but she faltered at the sight of Harben at the head of the group. He smiled at her—as if he hadn’t abandoned them when they needed him the most, as if he hadn’t beaten them and lorded over them her whole life. She marched up to him and slapped him hard across the face.
His head whipped back to her, his fists already clenched. She dropped into a fighter’s stance, sword and shield springing into place. His expression went slack, and he took a step back. She glared at him, daring him to come at her, daring him to fight her.
“No!” a voice cried. Raeneth rushed out of the shadows, stepping between Larkin and Harben. “Leave him alone!” In her arms, she clutched a newborn baby with a shock of red hair the same shade as Larkin’s.
And Larkin understood. Harben finally had his son. She let her shield and sword fade away. “He’s not my father,” she said to Garrot. “He doesn’t get to walk me to my wedding.” She turned her back on him and marched toward the town center on her own, head held high, never once looking back.
Garrot caught up with her, matching his stride to hers. She half expected him to berate her or insist Harben take his rightful place. He didn’t.
“Why did you bring that man to me?” she asked simply.
“Because the coward deserved it.”
She glanced at him in shock. “Why do you care what Harben does and doesn’t deserve?”
Garrot’s mouth tightened.
She made a sound of disbelief. “You’re in love with Nesha.” Garrot stiffened and remained silent, which told Larkin everything she needed to know. “She couldn’t pick anyone worse than you.”
She outpaced him, turning toward the town’s center—a simple intersection, two-and three-story buildings on all sides. Her mother was waiting, along with all her sisters. Nesha held the baby and refused to meet Larkin’s gaze.
Bane stood in the center of the street, a torch in one hand. The other he held out to her.
Larkin’s step faltered for a moment. Ancestors, how could everything fall apart so completely? Taking a fortifying breath, she moved to stand before him and looked into his eyes. “Why are you still going through with this?”
His eyes softened. “I’ve known you for years, Larkin. I know the girl you really are.”
The girl who’d been powerless and hungry and desperate for any way out. Bane had been that way out. She shook her head. “I never want to be that girl again.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, music drifted down on them, falling on them like heavy snow. The melody reminded Larkin of Mama’s lullaby. It had the same rises and falls, the same notes, the same gentle melody. Even with the amulet, the memory of sleep weighed heavily on her body. Her mouth fell open. It was the same song. But how could her mother possibly have learned it? Her eyelids grew impossibly heavy, her thoughts sluggish. She looked around, bewildered.
“It’s the pipers,” Garrot cried as he pulled a sword from his waist. The druids drew their weapons, searching the rooftops for the source of the sound.
“Where?” Rimoth staggered. His sword drooped before clanging against the cobblestones. When he bent to pick it up, he pitched forward. He was snoring before he hit the ground. More druids and guards fell. Garrot lurched to the side of a building and collapsed against it, his chin tipping down to rest against his chest.
Larkin reeled toward her mother and sisters. Denan was coming for her, as he’d promised, but she couldn’t leave without her family. “Wait,” she slu
rred, hoping he was close enough to hear her. “Denan, please.” She was a couple steps away when her knees buckled and she sank to the ground amid the clang of falling swords and thunk of falling bodies. Her mother and sisters were already asleep. The last thing Larkin saw before her eyes slipped closed were pipers falling from the sky. Somewhere, Denan was among them.
She woke with a start to see Denan crouched before her, his face shadowed by fallen torches. Behind him, she could make out over a dozen pipers, all of them playing, but the music no longer affected her.
“If you want to stay”—Denan’s voice shook, and he cleared his throat—“I’ll go. You’ll never see me again.”
Her mother’s words washed over her: Choose the chains that bind you.
Larkin had to choose between Bane and Denan—the man she’d known her entire life or the man she’d known for a few weeks. The Idelmarch or the Alamant—the land and people of her birth or the place she’d found her power and her happiness. Did she want a future with Bane as a lord’s wife, where she would be just one girl, but a girl he could protect forever? Or did she want a life in the Alamant, a queen beside a man who believed she could do anything?
Larkin stretched up and hugged Denan hard, the smell of the forest and his own musk washing over her and giving her a heady sense of relief. “I choose you.”
He sagged against her and wrapped her up tight. For the barest moment, there were no druids or pipers, no enemies or friends. It was just his arms around her. She was safe and loved.
“You have to take my mother and sisters with us,” she said. “Garrot will kill them if you don’t.”
He released her, turning to his men. “Talox, Benick, take the women. Tam, scout ahead and make sure the path is clear.”
Tam started out. Her family was still sound asleep. Denan pulled Larkin to her feet as Benick swung Sela over one shoulder and tucked the baby in his other arm. Talox hesitated, vacillating between Mama and Nesha.
Denan took a single step toward them. “I’ll—”