“Capricious rulers who would as soon kill them as reward them?”
“Yes.”
His eyebrows lift doubtfully.
“You have limited experience with healers because they shun Hoi Polloi and the south. But you have to understand, the ways of millennia aren’t easily changed.”
The hand resting on Brown Horse’s muscled neck balls into a fist. “How can people be so blind?”
I shrug. “Don’t overestimate the masses. They love you until they hate you. They hate you until they love you.”
“Healers aren’t the masses. There aren’t even that many of them.”
“It doesn’t matter. The principles are the same.”
Griffin slowly exhales, uncurling his fist. “How do healers function in Fisa?”
“They need Andromeda’s permission to lift a hand, let alone heal someone. They’re all confined to Fisa City.”
“And how many people needlessly die because of that?”
Brown Horse flaps his lips against my palm, searching for an apple. I give him the last one I have with me. “A lot. People send requests by dove all the time, but they’re rarely answered, even for powerful nobles.”
Griffin looks incredulous. “And you see merit in that system?”
“I never said that. Just don’t expect people to change overnight. It takes more than a few months to unravel the traditions of the realms.”
“I don’t want to unravel the traditions of the realms. Only the asinine ones.”
“Good luck with that.” There’s no sarcasm in my voice.
Kato and Flynn pat my head before they mount, Carver promises me a sword fight when they get back, and Griffin sweeps me into his arms and kisses me in front of all three of them. He lifts me to my toes, and I forget to kick or punch or scratch, or even breathe. When he lets go, I come to my senses enough to cough out a “Yuck!”
He grins. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Egeria flutters into the courtyard, looking unused to traveling. I don’t do anything ridiculous like wave good-bye, but I watch them go, not liking what I see. Four men and a woman. No escort. The majority of the population is firmly on their side, but we’re in the northern half of Sinta now, and there are more Magoi around. They might try to cause trouble. And danger can come from anywhere, even accidents. If something happens to them, Sinta loses Alpha, Beta, and Delta. There’s a good chance the realm would fall to pieces. Without Griffin holding things together, I doubt there would be anything left.
Feeling anxious, I return to my room, pack, and wait for breakfast. Cook still gives me a spice cake, but it’s tasteless without anyone to share it with. I have nothing to do—not today, not tomorrow, not for days. Since there are already dozens of children waiting at the castle gate, hoping for their chance at clothing and food, I find Piers and manipulate him into asking me to oversee street urchins for another building project. I reluctantly agree to his request, casually suggesting something that’s been on my mind for days. Since I can’t leave the castle grounds, I’ll have them shore up the north wall on the far side of the woods. One good hit with a battering ram and a whole section would fall to bits.
Ordering starving, homeless kids around isn’t nearly as much fun as I thought it would be. They can’t work properly until they’re stronger, so I arrange for a picnic instead. Nerissa, Jocasta, and Kaia come out of the castle despite the heat. We stuff the children until their bellies are round and then coax them into playing blindman’s bluff in the shade. In the meantime, soldiers bring in rocks from the quarry. Daphne is with them. Her nose is still swollen, and she’s sweaty and dusty and hauling rocks she can barely lift while I play court games with the royals. I feel her loathing like a beetle crawling on my skin.
She doesn’t understand. This is my place in life, and for the first time, I don’t hate it.
*
I lie down in Griffin’s bed for the third time. His crisp, masculine scent still lingers on the sheets. The shallow dip in the mattress is the imprint from his body, fitting around me like an embrace. I haven’t had a nightmare once.
I hate this.
I hate needing him.
I squeeze my eyes shut. She’ll kill him.
They’re in Ios without me, a full day’s ride to the east. Today, they probably discussed strategies, scribbled building plans on scrolls, and argued about how to recruit healers. The healers probably watched from nearby, wondering and gossiping about the new royals, and deciding not to help them. Until one of them does. Then the rest will follow. They’re fickle but predictable.