Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

WREN

Once the healer declared that Wren could leave her room, there was an unexpected flurry of activity around her.

Anselm was effectively banished outside by a very efficient young woman as golden-haired as he was, who took one look at Wren and pursed her lips in a perplexed expression.

‘I suppose we'd better get started as soon as possible,' she said. ‘I'm Lady Lynette of Goalais, wife of Paladin Knight Yvain of Goalais, who heads the garrison here. Anselm has asked me to make you presentable. The Grandmaster is a busy man so his making this time for you is a great honour.'

And from that moment on, Wren was chivvied along to wash, dress in far too many layers of fabric and her hair was carefully brushed and braided. When she looked at herself in the mirror Lynette had ordered dragged into the infirmary room, she hardly knew the woman standing there.

‘If I had more time and if this little town had more facilities, I could make you worthy of any royal court in the world,' Lynette said, as she examined Wren with a far more critical eye. ‘It will be better when you finally get back to Pelias. But this is not bad at all. You have good bones.'

And she nodded as if that was the greatest compliment she could give.

‘And your hair, my dear girl…' She sighed, and reached out to brush her fingertips along the length of Wren's braid. ‘I know people who would kill for your hair. Right, come along. We cannot keep the Grandmaster waiting.'

Someone opened the door for them and Lynette swept outside. Wren hurried after her, almost too terrified to do anything else. Anselm's eyes widened as she appeared, but he said nothing and fell into step behind them.

‘Don't be afraid of him,' Lynette went on. ‘He's a good man. But he's used to leading men, not women. He just looks a bit grim, but he's really very kind. He has always been our most respected warrior. Yvain tells me that when he was a young knight there were those who made fun of him, because he was shy and could be tongue-tied, but they never did it once they'd seen him fight, I can tell you. Nor when the queen was in earshot. And look at him now. This kingdom would have fallen apart without him. That's what my husband says. Fallen apart.'

Wren didn't think she was actually expected to take part in this conversation so she just nodded and hurried along in the unfamiliar skirts. The gown was beautiful, far finer than anything she had ever worn before. Her own clothes had been made for the forest and for hard work. These clothes, soft and delicate, glimmering with bright threads and made of sleek silks, were like nothing she had ever seen.

They stopped in front of a simple door at the end of the corridor. There was nothing unusual about it, and nothing particularly grand. Just a door.

Elodie said not to trust any of them. And given Wren had somehow connected herself with the Nox back in the Ilanthian encampment, that was advice to heed. She wasn't safe here. She couldn't be. The Knights of the Aurum existed to combat the Nox. Everyone knew that.

They didn't know what she had done, had entirely misinterpreted what they had seen. Just as Leander had. But Finn knew the truth. She was certain of that.

And what might he have said to the man who raised him?

The door closed behind her with the finality of a tomb being sealed.

Wren stood there, without any of the guards or Lynette and Anselm to hide behind, looking at the broad back of a man bred for and honed by war. There was no other way to describe him. He was taller than anyone she had ever seen, with wide shoulders and long legs. He wore a light mail over his leather tunic, topped with a surcoat of a brilliant blue. In the centre of the cloak, which fell down his back, the flame of the Aurum symbol was picked out in gold. When he turned, she saw the face from the locket, although years had reshaped it. There was a new hardness there, a chill in his eyes, and strands of silver at his temples, a stark contrast to the jet black of his hair.

Wren straightened her back, held her head high and tried to make herself look him right in the eye. For a moment they regarded each other warily.

Was he really as nervous as she was? The thought was impossible. And yet, that was the feeling she had.

‘Wren,' he said at last, his voice a deep rumble, but surprisingly soft, like distant thunder. Not a threat.

At least there was that.

But what should she call him? ‘Grandmaster de Silvius,' she said, falling back on formality.

He leaned on the desk between them, both arms straight, and stared at her for another long moment. ‘Where is Elodie?' he asked.

‘I don't know.' Which was true. At least she didn't have to start this with an outright lie. ‘I was hoping she'd be here.' Or near here. But she didn't want to tell him exactly where. Elodie said not to trust him.

‘She didn't tell you her plans?' He was still studying her and Wren shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. ‘No, I suppose not. She always could keep a secret.'

‘A secret like me?'

‘So it would seem.' He held out her locket and Wren took it gratefully, hanging it back around her neck. He sighed then and gestured to the seat opposite his desk. Wren sank into it and he took his own. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Finally, he broke the painful silence. ‘You must have questions.'

Of course she did. She'd be a fool not to have questions. ‘Many.'

‘And she never answered them either? She never spoke of the past? Of… of who she was?'

Had he been about to say ‘of me?' or ‘of us?' Wren winced, and looked to the floor. What could she tell him? Elodie had hidden him completely from her, as completely as she had hidden Wren from him. It was only in her nightmares she mentioned his name. No man would want to hear that, would they?

‘No,' she said. And the narrowing of his eyes told her he knew that for the half-truth it was.

‘She is Queen Aeryn of Asteroth, and she never mentioned it? Never spoke of marrying a prince of Ilanthus? Never mentioned fighting the Nox?'

Wren's mouth hung open. She closed it as quickly as she could. She knew none of that. Of course Elodie had never mentioned any of it. She'd clearly been trying to hide from it all. Why would she turn around and tell Wren when it was the last thing she wanted anyone to know? Especially not Wren.

She'd never even said she was Wren's mother. Not out loud. Not to anyone. Not once.

It was too much. It was all too much.

‘We fight the Nox, now and always,' she told him, trying to push all the rest of it aside. That was what Elodie had always said and so Wren repeated it now. Like a comfort.

She gripped the seat of her chair until her knuckles turned white. It felt too much like the lie she was trying to avoid. She hadn't fought the Nox, had she? She'd opened the door and invited it in. She would have done anything to save Finn.

‘With flame and sword,' Roland replied, intoning the words. ‘The vow of the Knights of the Aurum.' A smile flickered over his lips. ‘At least she taught you that much.'

Something bristled in the back of her mind.

‘She taught me everything,' Wren countered, not willing to hear all Elodie had done for her dismissed in such a way. ‘Everything I needed anyway.'

‘In the forest, perhaps. But it's a whole new world now. Princess Wren of Asteroth…' He let out a long sigh, as if there was something profoundly disappointing about saying those words. ‘This is going to take a lot of explaining. The regents' council alone are going to?—'

Princess?

‘Wait. I'm not a princess. I'm no one.'

‘You're Elodie's daughter.'

No, she wasn't. She couldn't be. She didn't even look like her.

‘She never said that. She just… she raised me but I don't… I'm not…'

He held up a hand to silence her and she was horrified to find herself obeying. The words died away in her throat. ‘It's undeniable. Just looking at you… You are the daughter of the lost queen and, unless we find her, you will take the throne.'

The pronouncement stole her breath. She didn't look anything like Elodie. She knew that. But she did look like him and…

Oh. Wren closed her eyes. He wanted her on the throne. Of course he did.

‘I can't do that.'

‘You don't have a choice in the matter. It is your duty.'

No choice?

The shock inside her boiled away. And turned to anger.

There was always a choice. Elodie had taught her that too. No one else got to decide for her. ‘If I am her daughter, and your daughter, and she was married to Prince Evander of Sidon, I'm not even legitimate.'

He looked up sharply and she knew she'd made a dreadful miscalculation. Elodie had always been so calm and kind. Wren knew she must have gotten her temper from somewhere and now she could be seeing where. Anger filled his eyes, making them black as midnight. And far too like those in her own reflection. She shrank back in her seat as he rose slowly, every movement filled with threat.

‘Your blood by your mother is the only thing of consequence here. Whoever sired you is of no consequence. The queen was lawfully married but better that you don't carry the Ilanthian taint.'

The Ilanthian taint ? Oh Finn must have had an exemplary upbringing hearing phrases like that from his guardian's mouth. Wren ground her teeth together while the world seemed to plummet away beneath her.

‘No one will dare question your birthright anyway. Once the regents' council makes the proclamation that will be that. All the same, it's no good handing people weapons against you. Never say it again, do you understand?'

She swallowed hard on the lump in her throat. Why couldn't he have been kind? Loving? Why couldn't he have swept her up in his arms and told her she was the child he had always wanted? That was what happened in stories, wasn't it? Tears burned in her eyes and she blinked them back. She wouldn't show him. She wouldn't let him see.

‘You just want me on the throne, no matter what. For your own ends.' Her voice shook but she forced the words out. ‘If you think to have a queen you can control?—'

For a moment the anger in him cracked and she saw a flicker of shock, surprise that she could even think such a thing. He almost laughed, but the bitter twist of his mouth wouldn't allow it.

‘No one has ever been able to control a queen of Asteroth. I am not about to start on that fool's errand. The council will decide but I can already tell you that you might as well get used to a crown, young lady. You are dismissed.'