Her stomach grumbled in protest. She ignored it. She’d eaten a hefty dinner the night before, taken in her chamber. Nine hells before she’d eat alone with the lord commander. And being out for a walk wasn’t for naught. She hadn’t properly explored the castle grounds. She wished she’d thought to bring Vitalia.
The beauty of the Shadowlands was hard to deny. In every recess of the castle sat a garden area, meticulously kept. The walls and stonework were well maintained, and even the cobblestone walks appeared to have been scrubbed clean. Tall iron posts lined common walkways, holding oil lanterns for the night.
She turned the corner of the castle, and the walk opened to a broad green space. Within a short distance were structured activity fields, each filled with training soldiers. The fields were much larger than in Mercia, and on first observation, the training was much more aggressive. Where her Northmen practiced in an organized fashion, the Shadow fields could easily be mistaken for battlefields.
Norah stopped and watched, wide-eyed. With no reservation and no restraint, the Shadow warriors fought—lethal strikes with real weapons and devastating consequences. How were they not killing one another? Her pulse quickened. Even if they were Shadowmen, she didn’t want anyone hurt…
Suddenly, her eyes found Captain Artem. Except him. He could hurt himself all day. And so could the lord commander—wherever he was. The captain stood in the center of the far-right field as he scanned the soldiers, calling out commands of gods only knew what. And then, as if he sensed her gaze, he turned. The hair stood on the back of her neck, and she broke away to keep walking.
He’d seen her. But she didn’t dare look back to see if he would come after her. She focused her eyes ahead. And then she slowed.
The king was walking toward her. A surprise—he’d said he wouldn’t be back until late. It wasn’t an unwelcome surprise, though. Beside him strode the lord commander. He was unwelcome.
Thankfully, the commander forked away and headed toward the training fields, though not before casting her a dark eye. Good riddance. She turned her attention back to the king. The corners of her mouth turned up, and she pursed it back. But she certainly wasn’t unhappy to see him.
His own mouth held the hint of a smile, and her eyes moved to his lips. She hadn’t forgotten how they felt. She swallowed and tried to shake the path from where her mind was beginning to wander.
“North Queen,” he greeted her.
“Salar Mikael,” she greeted back, trying out the Kharavian title. It felt very… unnatural. She wasn’t sure why.
He tilted his head. “It’s not customary to use both names.”
She didn’t want to call him Salar—a name so… distant. “All right. Mikael.” That felt natural. She wasn’t sure if he’d be fine with her calling him by his name, but she caught the hint of a smile, and she smiled back. “You’re back sooner than I’d expected.”
“I had something to get back to.”
“Battle planning?” she jested. Something else dark and nefarious, no doubt.
“You.”
She paused. Why did she like that? She bit her lip. “Worried I might make my escape?” It was a jest. Mostly.
But he shook his head. “No. I wanted to see you again.”
She liked that even more. Had their last interaction stayed in his mind, as it had in hers?
“I heard you had the Crest working in the gardens yesterday,” he said as they started toward the castle.
She glanced out at the practice fields to where the commander had picked up inspection of the soldiers. “No, that was the lord commander’s doing,” she said irritably. “I was planting flowers.”
“A queen shouldn’t be laboring in the dirt.”
“It wasn’t laboring,” she argued. “I actually quite enjoyed it.” She needed to be out of the castle and doing something. “And even if I was, I’ll do what pleases me. The lord commander oversteps, and it’s unacceptable.”
He slowed. “I know he’s not a man of gentle nature, but the lord commander looks out for my interests, and now yours.”
She scoffed. “Not my interests.”
“You judge him too harshly.” His tone held an edge of defense, and she quieted. He put his absolute trust in his brute, loved him as a brother, and would defend him fiercely, even to her. The commander could divide them, and that’s the last thing she wanted. She had to be careful.
Silence hung between them as they walked, then he said, “Labor in the dirt if it makes you happy. I just ask you to refrain when your people arrive for the marriage. I don’t want them to think I took their queen for slave labor.”
It was a jest to bridge them back to a good place. He was trying. And it was an acceptable compromise. Norah couldn’t help her smile. “Yes, I can see my grandmother having heart palpitations.”
Mikael’s brow creased. “Surely your grandmother won’t come.”
His assumption surprised her. “She’d planned to travel to Aleon. Of course she’ll come. Why wouldn’t she?”
Mikael raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer.
“This alliance is important, and I’m her granddaughter,” she insisted. “I’m getting married, and I need her. She’ll come.”
“Of course,” he replied, but doubt lingered on his face.
There would be tension between their kingdoms, understandably, and it would take time to adjust, but her grandmother wouldn’t deny her. Mikael didn’t know Catherine. He’d see.
“I’m sure you’ve already eaten,” he said, “but will you join me for some breakfast?”
Her smile returned. “I’d love to.”
Norah strode outside into the daylight with a spring in her step. Breakfast with Mikael had left her in high spirits. He was… different… than she’d expected. She liked it.
She decided to visit the mare again and stop by the garden and say hello to Bremhad along the way. Vitalia followed close behind, as did Norah’s guard. She was disappointed to have Sonal in her service again today, but she wouldn’t let him dampen her spirits.
Norah made her way along the manicured topiaries and combed the gardens for the greenskeeper, but he was nowhere to be found. Norah spotted another man by the laurels, and she approached. He bowed low when he saw her.
“Is Bremhad here?” she asked.
The man said nothing and remained bowing.
“A man named Bremhad,” she said again. “Is he here?”
Still, the man said nothing.
Vitalia spoke to him in the Shadow tongue. He answered, and she looked back to Norah. “He says there’s no man that works in the gardens by that name.”
Norah shook her head, her brows drawing together. “That’s not right. He was here yesterday. He said he’s here every day.”
Vitalia spoke to the man again, and then she looked at Norah with her lips pursed and shook her head.
Something wasn’t right. Norah turned to Sonal. “Where’s the man who was here yesterday?”
Sonal gave a frown and then shook his head. “I don’t remember what he looked like.”
Her eyes narrowed. Liar. “You know exactly what he looked like,” she countered, a weight growing in her stomach. “His name was Bremhad. Has something happened to him?”