Mirror Sight
Page 253
“The queen wished me to deliver her fondest greetings.”
It had been explained to Karigan that the forester of Coutre—sent with the expedition into Blackveil with orders to murder her—had not, in fact, been sent by Estora but by her cousin, the misguided Lord Richmont Spane. He’d wanted nothing and no one to interfere with his cousin’s betrothal to the king.
“How is the queen?” Karigan asked.
“Resting in bed as ordered by Master Vanlynn. We are expecting twins.” Like a force he could not control, he smiled, a light shining in his eyes.
“I heard,” she said. “Congratulations.”
It was odd, but in her notes, Karigan had seen a reference to Estora having had only one child. All had changed, unless one of the babies did not make it. Karigan said nothing about it, but it must have occurred to Zachary as well. “Please return my greetings to the queen.”
Their conversation was stilted, had an unreality to it.
“I will. I have advised Captain Mapstone that you are to take as much time as you need to recover.”
“I hope to be back on duty as soon as possible.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Truly? After all you’ve been through? Your eye?”
“Yes.” She needed to work, to keep her mind occupied. She was not sure how long she could stand to remain in the castle with him married to Estora and all the anticipation of the babies. She needed to move on. She did not want to sit around and stew over what was or might have been. She’d become stuck, unable to function. She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think Cade Harlowe would want that for her.
Cade, Cade, Cade . . .
The king studied her for some moments. She could tell there was much he wished to say, but prudence prevented him.
“I do not know why fate has chosen to put you through so much,” he said finally. “I would change it all if I could.”
“I know.” She glanced down at the toes of her boots. “But I would not want to change all of it.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “No?”
“Cade.” His name slipped from her tongue when she had not meant to speak it aloud. Hastily she added, “The people. I don’t remember much, but . . . I’d not have met them had I not gone forward in time.” Despite the little she remembered, she felt certain that her time with Cade had been profound, complete in a way that her connection with Zachary never would be. Never could be. She’d always known it to be impossible to have such with him, and it only intensified her sense of loss. Her loss of both men. Maybe Zachary was right to think it better if none of it had happened.
“This Cade, he was—?”
“No! I don’t—” she began harshly. When she saw his stung expression, she took a breath and said in a softer tone, “I mean, I don’t remember. Not much. But he was important. To me.”
Various emotions flickered across his features. She could see him wondering about Cade, a hint of jealousy perhaps? He quickly masked it and settled on concern once again, and reached for her as though to comfort her, but she stepped back, away from his touch, and his hand fell to his side. His forehead crinkled, and once again he looked hurt. How easy it would be to go to him, to be folded in the strength of his arms, to feel his heartbeat against her. She wanted nothing more than to be comforted by him, but too much had happened. It was impossible, too dangerous. She’d already lost too much.
The king nodded in acceptance. “I think you know how I feel, in any case. About you.”
Karigan looked away. Found she could not reply. After a painful moment passed, that felt so much longer, he pulled an envelope from his pocket. He held it out to her.
“I—I did not read this,” he said. “I refused to believe you were gone. I think I would have known.”
It took Karigan a moment to realize what it was, but once she saw her own handwriting on it and the green wax seal, there was no mistake. It was the letter she had written to be given to him in the event she did not return from Blackveil. It let him know her heart, all the things she could never say to him while she lived. She did not know whether to feel relieved he had not read it, or disappointed. Relieved because then all she held inside would have been exposed in no uncertain terms. Disappointed for the same reason. It was for the best, she supposed. She did not need that letter adding fuel to the longing between them.
He cleared his throat and said more brusquely, “I’ve something else for you. Ellen?” The Weapon stepped in briefly to hand him a rolled up paper tied with a ribbon. “A very strange thing. The journal that Rider Cardell took into Blackveil was being catalogued to be filed with other records. His drawings are very good, and I am sure the images and maps he drew will be helpful in the future.” He paused, but very briefly. “The odd thing was, a picture we had somehow missed earlier came to light, tucked into the back of the journal. Apparently Rider Cardell wanted you to have it.”
He passed her the rolled paper, and she held it with trepidation. What in the world had Yates drawn that he wanted her to see?
Preoccupied by the rolled paper in her hands, Karigan barely noticed King Zachary receding from her chamber. She did not see how his gaze lingered on her, his expression wistful and suffused with regret and his own loss. She did not register the door closing silently and soundly behind him.
She moved to her chair and undid the ribbon. She was glad she was sitting because when the paper unrolled, she saw the gift for what it was, a gift from the spirit of Yates Cardell. He’d be smiling right now, she knew he would.
It had been explained to Karigan that the forester of Coutre—sent with the expedition into Blackveil with orders to murder her—had not, in fact, been sent by Estora but by her cousin, the misguided Lord Richmont Spane. He’d wanted nothing and no one to interfere with his cousin’s betrothal to the king.
“How is the queen?” Karigan asked.
“Resting in bed as ordered by Master Vanlynn. We are expecting twins.” Like a force he could not control, he smiled, a light shining in his eyes.
“I heard,” she said. “Congratulations.”
It was odd, but in her notes, Karigan had seen a reference to Estora having had only one child. All had changed, unless one of the babies did not make it. Karigan said nothing about it, but it must have occurred to Zachary as well. “Please return my greetings to the queen.”
Their conversation was stilted, had an unreality to it.
“I will. I have advised Captain Mapstone that you are to take as much time as you need to recover.”
“I hope to be back on duty as soon as possible.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Truly? After all you’ve been through? Your eye?”
“Yes.” She needed to work, to keep her mind occupied. She was not sure how long she could stand to remain in the castle with him married to Estora and all the anticipation of the babies. She needed to move on. She did not want to sit around and stew over what was or might have been. She’d become stuck, unable to function. She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think Cade Harlowe would want that for her.
Cade, Cade, Cade . . .
The king studied her for some moments. She could tell there was much he wished to say, but prudence prevented him.
“I do not know why fate has chosen to put you through so much,” he said finally. “I would change it all if I could.”
“I know.” She glanced down at the toes of her boots. “But I would not want to change all of it.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “No?”
“Cade.” His name slipped from her tongue when she had not meant to speak it aloud. Hastily she added, “The people. I don’t remember much, but . . . I’d not have met them had I not gone forward in time.” Despite the little she remembered, she felt certain that her time with Cade had been profound, complete in a way that her connection with Zachary never would be. Never could be. She’d always known it to be impossible to have such with him, and it only intensified her sense of loss. Her loss of both men. Maybe Zachary was right to think it better if none of it had happened.
“This Cade, he was—?”
“No! I don’t—” she began harshly. When she saw his stung expression, she took a breath and said in a softer tone, “I mean, I don’t remember. Not much. But he was important. To me.”
Various emotions flickered across his features. She could see him wondering about Cade, a hint of jealousy perhaps? He quickly masked it and settled on concern once again, and reached for her as though to comfort her, but she stepped back, away from his touch, and his hand fell to his side. His forehead crinkled, and once again he looked hurt. How easy it would be to go to him, to be folded in the strength of his arms, to feel his heartbeat against her. She wanted nothing more than to be comforted by him, but too much had happened. It was impossible, too dangerous. She’d already lost too much.
The king nodded in acceptance. “I think you know how I feel, in any case. About you.”
Karigan looked away. Found she could not reply. After a painful moment passed, that felt so much longer, he pulled an envelope from his pocket. He held it out to her.
“I—I did not read this,” he said. “I refused to believe you were gone. I think I would have known.”
It took Karigan a moment to realize what it was, but once she saw her own handwriting on it and the green wax seal, there was no mistake. It was the letter she had written to be given to him in the event she did not return from Blackveil. It let him know her heart, all the things she could never say to him while she lived. She did not know whether to feel relieved he had not read it, or disappointed. Relieved because then all she held inside would have been exposed in no uncertain terms. Disappointed for the same reason. It was for the best, she supposed. She did not need that letter adding fuel to the longing between them.
He cleared his throat and said more brusquely, “I’ve something else for you. Ellen?” The Weapon stepped in briefly to hand him a rolled up paper tied with a ribbon. “A very strange thing. The journal that Rider Cardell took into Blackveil was being catalogued to be filed with other records. His drawings are very good, and I am sure the images and maps he drew will be helpful in the future.” He paused, but very briefly. “The odd thing was, a picture we had somehow missed earlier came to light, tucked into the back of the journal. Apparently Rider Cardell wanted you to have it.”
He passed her the rolled paper, and she held it with trepidation. What in the world had Yates drawn that he wanted her to see?
Preoccupied by the rolled paper in her hands, Karigan barely noticed King Zachary receding from her chamber. She did not see how his gaze lingered on her, his expression wistful and suffused with regret and his own loss. She did not register the door closing silently and soundly behind him.
She moved to her chair and undid the ribbon. She was glad she was sitting because when the paper unrolled, she saw the gift for what it was, a gift from the spirit of Yates Cardell. He’d be smiling right now, she knew he would.
