A knock on her bedroom door startled her out of her reveries. Adaira had come to learn the different raps at her door; she knew this one was Innes, and she winced as she rose to answer. She had been avoiding her mother ever since the culling and ever since she had snuck in and out of the castle. But knowing she could put it off no longer, she unlocked the door.
Innes was silent for a moment, regarding her with a cold, emotionless expression. Her silver-blond hair was braided, and she wore a blue tunic trimmed in thick golden thread. Her vambraces were gone, and the tattoos that wove up her arms were on full display. Interlocking patterns that danced around stories and scars.
“Would you like to come in?” Adaira asked gently.
“No, I have somewhere I need to be tonight,” Innes replied. “But I haven’t seen you lately. I wanted to ensure you are well, and that you don’t need anything.”
“Oh.” Adaira couldn’t hide the surprise in her tone. “I’m quite well, and I don’t need anything at the moment. But thank you for asking.”
Innes nodded, but hesitated. There was more she wanted to say, and Adaira inwardly braced herself for it.
“The next time you leave Kirstron,” Innes finally said, “please let me know where you’re going.”
Adaira bit the inside of her cheek. How foolish of her to think that just because she had slipped in and out of the castle without trouble, Innes hadn’t known. Her mother seemed to have eyes everywhere.
“And take a horse from the stables,” Innes added gruffly. “I’ve told my stable master to select one for you to ride. Next time simply ask her for the horse rather than sneak out on foot.”
“I’ll do that,” Adaira said. “Thank you, Innes.”
“When I introduced you as my daughter to the thanes the other night, I was making a claim. If anyone tries to harm you, they harm me, and I’m at liberty to take any actions I want in restitution.” Innes paused, but her countenance had softened, as though the mask she wore had cracked. “But because I’ve publicly acknowledged you, some in the clan will now see you as a target. A threat. A way to strike at me. So all I’m asking of you are three things: you let me know when you leave the castle, you carry your sword, and you take a horse. Agreed?”
“Yes,” Adaira said.
“Good. Here’s your next dose. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Stunned, Adaira accepted the vial of Aethyn and watched her mother stride down the corridor. She slipped the poison into her pocket and shut the door, marveling over this new freedom she had been given. She walked into her bedchamber but stopped before the hearth, thinking of Kae and the bard’s cottage on the loch. Adaira needed to visit her again tomorrow, and now it would be much easier with a horse.
She shivered, surprised by how cold the room felt. The fire was still crackling in the hearth, but no heat emanated from it. The air held a trace of winter, and Adaira reached for her plaid, wrapping the enchanted wool around her shoulders to keep warm as she returned to her desk.
She read through Jack’s ink-blotted words again. A few minutes later, the wildest idea hit her, stealing her breath.
Jack wasn’t sending a second letter.
He was coming west.
The guards escorted him into a dingy holding room. Battered armor hung from iron racks, and swords gleamed on the wall. Jack had only a moment to take it in before he saw Rab Pierce, standing in the center of the chamber. He was ruddy-faced and smiling, his blond hair brushed and oiled and gleaming with blue jewels.
“Let’s get you suited for the spar,” Rab said in a pleasant tone, ambling over to the rack. “You’re quite slim, though. Might have to fit you in lad’s armor.”
Jack silently took the insult as his eyes tracked Rab’s every movement. His hands were still shackled behind his back, and four guards stood behind him, but in that moment it was only Jack and Rab in the antechamber. A bard and a thane’s spoiled son, breathing the same air, sharing the same space.
“Ah, here we are,” Rab announced, holding up a bloodstained breastplate with a deep gouge bisecting the front of it. “This one will fit you just right, I think.”
“Why are you so afraid of me?” Jack said.
Rab paused, unable to conceal his surprise at Jack’s comment. But then he snorted, glancing at Jack with languid eyes. “I don’t fear you, Mad Thief. You are, in fact, the last thing I can imagine would terrify me.”
“Then why have you lied?” Jack spoke in a calm voice, even as his pulse betrayed him, beating faster and faster as the minutes passed. As his time in the arena grew imminent. “Why have you treated me with contempt? Why have you falsely imprisoned and shackled me? Why have you led everyone to believe I’m mad when I’m truly everything I say that I am?”