"You'll start as soon as you arrive at Lord Okami's compound. The emperor needs Ronan and the Okamis here a while longer, but when they leave, you will travel with them."
Aidra stopped shrieking. She turned, very slowly, her huge brown eyes fixed on Ashyn. "And you'll come with us?"
When Ashyn didn't answer, Jorn said, gruffly, "She can't, silly. She's court Seeker now."
"But . . ." Aidra looked at Ronan, who had his face turned away as if struggling to find the right expression. When he glanced back finally, he hadn't managed it, and Ashyn could see the devastation in his eyes.
"That's it, then," he said. "Your choice."
"Yes," she said. "That is my choice. You will take the offer, because you could not live with yourself if you did otherwise."
"And if I cannot live without . . ." He trailed off, looking aside again.
"You'll train under Lord Okami. You will return when you are able. And I will go to Lord Okami's compound when I can. The lord himself has assured me I may visit as often and as long as I wish. Apparently, his wife greatly appreciates female companionship."
"Does that mean . . ." He turned, looking at her.
"Can we walk?" she said. "Jorn will watch Aidra while you escort me back to the palace."
SIXTY
They were out of the casteless district before Ronan spoke.
"When you say . . ." he trailed off. Then he cleared his throat. "Does this mean . . . ? That is, when you speak of visiting, do you mean . . . as friends?"
"Yes. I am going to travel three days' ride as often as I can because we are friends." She gave him a look. "I certainly hope if I make that ride, I can hope for more than pleasant conversation."
He studied her expression. Then, slowly, he began to grin. Before she could say a word, he caught her up in an embrace, Tova barking in surprise as Ronan swung her off her feet.
He swung her clear into an alleyway, into the shadows there, before setting her back on her feet.
"I have you, then," he said. "I truly have you."
"For now," she said. "And if you go changing your mind a fortnight from now, I swear I'll--"
"Never," he said, pulling her into a kiss. "I will never change my mind."
Ashyn was back in court later than she expected. Ronan had not been content with a quick kiss. Nor, admittedly, had she.
She and Tova walked through the first door into their quarters. Ellyn's hound rose from his pillow and walked over, stiff-legged with age. Thea's wildcat lifted her head and stretched, favoring them with a look of greeting. Everyone had expected the beasts to perish after their Keeper and Seeker died. That was the legend. When they had not, there'd even been talk of "laying them to rest with their bond-people." Moria had sworn to use her daggers on anyone who tried. The old beasts deserved a quiet retirement, which for now, they could get with the girls.
There were pictures on the walls. Drawings from the children. Their extended families were coming for them, as news trickled across the empire. If no family could be found, there were homes--so many had volunteered to adopt the children that the emperor had put Ashyn in charge of a committee to find the best applicants. It was a weighty responsibility, but she took it gladly. The only sadness there was knowing that they'd lost a handful of the children--the ones who'd been possessed, like Wenda, their own spirits gone. At peace, Ashyn hoped.
When she returned to her quarters, she opened the door to hear voices arguing, and she stopped to smile and lean against the doorpost. Four days ago, she'd thought she'd never hear such a familiar sound again. Moria and Gavril bickering. They were playing a game of capture-my-lord. Moria had made one of her mad, bold moves, and Gavril was chastising her on the foolishness of it, telling her she ought to think before she plunged in. Which, if she ever truly did, she would not be Moria.
What had happened that night in the palace? Alvar Kitsune had ended his life with perhaps the only good and selfless act he'd done in his life. He hadn't let Moria and Tyrus kill him because he'd been crushed and beaten. He'd accepted death to resurrect his son. The darkest form of sorcery: death magics. That was the spell he'd been casting. The one that offered his life in return for his son's.
Perhaps it wasn't purely selfless. As Moria had said, Alvar's goal had not been a throne but a dynasty. He'd given his life to keep his blood alive.
Gavril was still mending, and the girls had insisted he recuperate here, where Moria could watch over him and Ashyn could tend to him. Physically he was whole and well. Yet he was weak, as if his spirit had not fully recovered from the shock of leaving his body. Each day he gained a little more strength. Now, when Ashyn walked in, he had left his pallet and was sitting cross-legged on a cushion as he played with Moria.
Her sister looked over quickly. Seeing Ashyn, she said, "Ah, it's you."
"Sorry."
Gavril shook his head. "Tyrus is late for their sword practice, and she's hoping he comes soon so she will be spared the indignity of saying 'You were right,' when I defeat her."
"But you are not right," Moria said. "Whether I win or lose, I stand by my move. It was my only chance of winning. Therefore I took it. That was all I could do."