“I am,” she said, her voice a little stronger now. “I just had to come to make sure you were too.”
“I don’t want you to worry about me. You have enough to deal with.”
Her lip still trembled. Was there something else? Something she wasn’t telling him?
“Are you returning to Mercia with Caspian?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes. Was she really all right? Or was she changing the subject?
He shook his head. “No, but I do need to leave very soon to investigate a situation.” He hesitated, not wanted to put more burden on her, but she needed to know. “Mercian villages, and others under Mercia’s protection, are being attacked.”
Her brow dipped. “Again?”
What did she mean again? “You know about this?”
She pushed out a breath. “After I was taken, we came upon a town that had been destroyed, but there was no sign of who had done it. Do you know?”
He shook his head again. “Not yet. But I don’t want you to trouble yourself with it now. I’ll find who it was and put a stop to it.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Not long. I’m going only to the southern reaches, so a couple weeks perhaps.” He clasped her hands and brought them to his chest. “But I won’t leave yet. Not right now. I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“I am,” she assured him. “And honestly, it would make me feel better if I knew you were out of harm’s way until things have settled. You should go. I’m fine. Really.”
“Titus and the rest of the guard will be here with you.”
She shifted. “About that—send them to help Caspian.”
“And leave you alone?” Absolutely not.
“Alexander. Please. You can look out in that hall and see I’m most certainly not alone. I don’t have command over the Crest, and until I work things out with Mikael, there will be duplicate guard and the threat of battle between them at every hall. I can’t deal with that right now, I can’t. Alexander, please—”
“All right,” he said, yielding. As much as he hated the idea, he couldn’t resolve it for her now, and it was obviously yet one more overwhelming burden.
“It will only be a couple of weeks,” she said. “That’s a short time.”
It was an eternity away from her.
She gave a weak smile. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be here.”
He pulled her hands to his lips. “I’ll return as soon as I can.” Then he’d find a way to bring her home.
Chapter forty-six
Two more evenings passed and Mikael still found himself without Salara. He sat in the dining hall again, brooding over her empty chair. By now, she’d have moved into the villa. Perhaps she’d see it wasn’t as she’d expected. The villa had every comfort, every luxury.
“You still let the North Queen worry you,” Soren said, interrupting his thoughts.
Mikael let out a deep sigh. “She still doesn’t come. She’s still unhappy.”
Soren shrugged. “What will she do? Leave?”
“She’s not a prisoner.”
Soren’s face grew serious. “But you know we can’t let her go.”
Mikael knew this. So long as he held the North Queen, he kept her from Aleon. If he kept her from Aleon, he denied his fate. But he didn’t want to hold her. He wanted her to want to stay.
“Go to the villa,” he told a servant. “Tell her I… I wish for her to come. It’s not required, but I wish for her to want to come. If she should find herself wanting to, wanting to eat. With me.”
Soren snorted and raised a brow.
Mikael glared at him and cursed under his breath. He sounded like a rambling fool, but he worried for her.
“She’s not in the villa, Salar,” the servant said. “She still remains in the sanctuary.”
Mikael flung his chalice across the hall, frustration coursing through him.
“Would you like me to deliver the message to her there?” the servant asked.
“No,” he rasped, tempering his fire. “She’s not to be disturbed there.”
A banging on the door of the sanctuary made her jump, and Norah pushed her breath through her teeth. She already knew who it was: the one person for whom Mikael’s rules didn’t apply. She debated not opening it, but it wasn’t as though he would go away.
“North Queen,” he growled through the door.
Norah pursed her lips as she put her book down, and she rose to answer. She opened the door to find the commander’s shadowed eyes looking back at her. Behind him prowled his dogs, as menacing as their master.
“What do you want?” she asked, not bothering to hide the iciness in her own voice.
“I came to suggest you might dine with Salar tonight. Each day only brings greater discord.” It wasn’t a friendly request.
Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you were so eager to see me again.”
“I’m not,” he snarled. “But his waiting for you is even more disturbing than your presence. At least pretend to settle your grievance.”
“If he wants amends, then he shouldn’t send his dogs!” She moved to close the door, but he jarred it with his foot and flung it back open, and she stumbled back into the room.
“I come on my own accord.”
She bared her teeth. “You’re not allowed here.”
“There is nothing I’m not allowed!” he raged. “You’ll do well to remember that.”
And yet he didn’t step inside.
“This is my sanctuary,” she snapped.
“And you have it by Salar’s grace! How much longer do you think that will last? It’s by that grace you live here in comfort, and by that grace your Bear’s still alive.”
“Leave!” she seethed, her anger casting aside any fear.
Fury dripped from his skin, but she drew closer in challenge. He couldn’t scare her. Alexander had left; there was nothing he could do.
Finally, he relented, storming back down the hall the way he’d come. Norah shut the door behind him and sank onto her bed, breathing deeply to calm her shaking.
She couldn’t let him get to her. Despite everything that had happened between them, she didn’t believe Mikael would hurt her. She didn’t believe he’d let his commander hurt her. And with Alexander gone, she had time to work on a solution. But what was the solution? What could she do if nothing changed?
Outside her door, a tray rattled with a slight clattering of dishes—another meal being delivered. Her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten.
Norah opened the door and moved to take the tray from the small table that had been set up by the wall. She stopped. On the tray sat a bowl, and inside were three small, rolled parchments.
She pulled open one of the parchments, and her heart thrummed in her chest. Then she quickly glanced over the rest. Her hands trembled.
There were three.
Three annulments.
For three wives.
And they bore the king’s seal.
Her silk shoes fell silent on the stone floors as Norah hurried through the castle with Vitalia close behind her. Her heart raced as she went. The king had annulled his marriages, which she’d doubted he’d do. Despite his coarseness, he cared. And what surprised her more was that she cared. The commander was wrong. She did know him.