“I’ll show you to your room, so you can rest a moment before dinner,” Adaira was saying when they reached a long, winding staircase.
Sidra gazed at the endless steps, reluctant to approach them, until Blair appeared at her side, offering his arm. She gratefully accepted and held to the crook of his elbow. She let him take the brunt of the weight off her foot as they followed Adaira upwards, but Sidra couldn’t help but feel a stab of worry when Adaira glanced behind at her.
Adaira did indeed notice Sidra holding on to her guard. How attentive Blair was to her.
They followed Adaira down another corridor and at last reached the guest suite. The room was spacious, adorned with tapestries and rugs and a four-poster bed draped with sheepskin and sheltered by a canopy. A fire was burning in the hearth, and the mantel above it was green with fragrant juniper boughs. There was a chair and a table for washing, a wardrobe in one corner, and a view of the misty hills.
“May I have a moment alone with Adaira?” Sidra said to her guards, who were hovering.
Blair nodded, ushering the other three out to the corridor. As soon as the door closed, Sidra looked at Adaira, relief and worry both beating in her pulse.
This was the first time the two of them had been alone since meeting earlier in the day. They could both drop their guard and fall back into the comfortable bonds of their friendship. And yet so much had happened over the past month that it almost felt like they had been apart for years.
“I’m so happy you’re here, Sid,” Adaira said. “But I must ask . . . is everything well with you and Torin? I couldn’t help but notice your guard, and I honestly thought Torin would want to accompany you west. Jack also told me that Torin didn’t reply to his letter. You did.”
Sidra released a deep breath. It was time to inform Adaira, but she needed to sit for something like this.
“All is well between us. Don’t worry.” Sidra moved to the chair, easing down with a slight groan. “But Torin isn’t here, Adi.”
Adaira’s expression was lined with concern as she drew up a stool, facing Sidra. “Where is he then?”
“The spirits took him.”
Adaira stiffened, her face blanching. “What do you mean they took him?”
Sidra explained as well as she could, giving Adaira the pieces of information she had inferred. But she instantly regretted saying that Torin could be gone for years. Adaira looked like she had been pierced. She leaned on her knees, hand over her mouth, eyes gleaming with horror.
“I know you’re going to worry about him,” Sidra said, “but I don’t want you to, and neither would he. There’s a chance he could be home much sooner than I anticipate. So please, Adi, don’t let this upset you.”
Adaira was quiet for a long moment. Her fingers drifted from her lips as she whispered, “Sid. I’m so sorry.”
Sidra nodded, trying to melt the frost that crept over her. The chill that often kept her up at night, staring into the darkness and shivering as she tried to imagine the rest of her life without Torin. If the blight didn’t kill her, heartbreak was likely to send her to an early grave.
But she didn’t want to give those thoughts power. She cast them aside, focusing on Adaira.
“Tell me how things have been for you here,” she said.
Adaira sat back with a sigh. “Well, they’ve been interesting, to say the least.”
As Sidra listened, Adaira told her bits and pieces of her life in the west. The shadows continued to deepen as she talked, even though it was only midafternoon. Eventually, Adaira rose to light the candles around the room, glancing anxiously at the window.
“I need to tell you about what to expect tonight, Sid,” she said, returning to her stool. “Innes has invited the thanes and their heirs to dine in the hall tonight, and she would like you to join us as well, so she can introduce you and explain why you’re here.”
At once, Sidra felt a cold sting of shock in her side. She heard Moray’s voice again in her memory, as if he were haunting her. Every month, my parents call their thanes and their heirs into the castle hall for a feast. It’s a dangerous, unpredictable night, because there’s always a thane or two who is scheming to take the rulership.
Adaira was explaining about the dangers of Aethyn and the preventative doses. Sidra had completely tuned her out, but she made herself focus again and listen more closely. When Adaira held out her palm, displaying a vial full of clear liquid, Sidra had to swallow down the bile that was beginning to surge up her throat.