Neve’s eyes pressed closed. “Don’t worry.” It was a murmur, a reassurance for herself as much as for Red. “We expected . . . not this, but something. We’ll fix it.”
“What do you mean?”
But whatever answer Neve might’ve given was interrupted by the opening door.
Servants pushed in a dinner cart to Neve’s forgotten sitting room, enough food for five people with place settings for three. They were in and out in silence, staring wide-eyed at Red’s cloak, avoiding her face. As they left, a lone figure filled the doorframe.
“The prodigal returns,” Arick said.
He stood straighter, was a trifle thinner. He’d taken to wearing his hair differently in the time she’d been gone, curling long over his collar. Red stood, though her legs felt stiff, forcing a smile and pushing Neve’s strange behavior aside, something to be dealt with later. “Hello, Arick.”
Smiling, he pushed off from the doorframe, met Red in the center of the room, and folded her in his arms. The embrace felt oddly clinical, so unlike what they’d shared before. Arick smelled different, too. Maybe he’d switched cigars, or his valet had stopped packing mint leaves in his pockets. She couldn’t name this new scent, only that it was cold.
“You look well, Red.” Arick’s hands rested on her shoulders, and the part of her that remembered the alcove wanted to squirm away. Gloaming light through the window dimmed the edges of things, but she didn’t miss the searching way his eyes flickered over hers. “Or should I call you Lady Wolf? That’s the title you gave Noruscan, I heard.”
Neve made no sound behind her, but Red still glanced over her shoulder, like the jolt through Neve’s spine rattled hers, too. Her twin froze for half a moment before going to her sitting room, sinking to the couch.
“Just Red is fine,” Red murmured.
The corner of Arick’s smile sharpened. He released her shoulders and crossed the room to stand next to Neve. She visibly relaxed at his presence. One hand feathered over her forearm, a light, reassuring touch.
Tentatively, Red took the seat across from them. “Is Raffe joining us?”
The name made Neve stiffen. “No.”
“Raffe returned to Meducia.” Arick opened a pot on the cart. His eyes flashed as he glanced at Red, and for a moment, they didn’t look green. “Pheasant, Red. Your favorite.”
The scent made her stomach growl. It’d been a long time since breakfast in the Keep. “Seems a strange time for him to leave.”
She couldn’t imagine Raffe abandoning Neve so soon after her coronation. Not when every line of her frame spoke of struggling, not when their feelings were so clear. When Raffe and Neve were in the same room, the only time their eyes weren’t on each other was when the other was looking.
The fact that he was gone made the unease in her stomach crawl up toward her throat.
Arick handed Neve a full plate; she took it listlessly. “He hadn’t been home in so long,” he said, with a brief, hard laugh. “Can you blame him, wanting to be there instead of freezing Valleyda?” He filled another plate and held it out to Red.
She took it, balanced it on her lap. “I suppose not.”
“You just missed him,” Neve said. “He left three days ago.”
“I hate I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
Neve’s eyes shuttered and turned back to her plate. She picked up her fork but never brought it to her mouth.
Arick glanced at Neve with genuine worry, but when his gaze came to Red, it was cold. He glared at her like he felt her guilt, like he wished for more of it.
She didn’t know how to move here, didn’t know how to act. The frames of these relationships had twisted in her absence, subtly changed in ways she couldn’t make any sense of.
Red ate quickly and without tasting. She took a gulp of wine— Meducian, of course, and going to her head in one swallow. She’d grown used to the watered-down stuff Eammon bought from Valdrek.
Eammon. Every thought of him delved in like a thorn.
Night fell beyond the window, and guttering candles cast the only light. It muted the angles of Arick’s face, made them nearly unrecognizable. “Surely you have adventures to regale us with, Red.” He sipped his wine and sat back in his chair, casting his face in shadow. “What terrible things have you seen in the Wilderwood?”
Red took another unladylike gulp. “It’s not all terrible.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t think so.” This from Neve, still and quiet. She’d barely picked at her food.