“It’s not. What they do to us … All of us.” She flinches. “All the keepers in Freywich are alike.”
I wish that water slap I’d given Villier had been harder. Hard enough that he never got back up.
From the house, a faint ringing carries.
Eden gasps, panic twisting her face. “That is my lady. If I don’t answer her—”
“Go ahead.” I wave her off with my free hand.
She makes to move, but then freezes. “Your Highness, I can’t leave you out here alone.”
“I’m not alone, don’t worry.” I know there is a legionary somewhere close, watching. I can feel their eyes on me. “Go on. And blame me.”
She tears off into the darkness, leaving the lantern in my grasp. I hold it up as high as possible to cast light on her path to the gate.
I’m not ready to head inside. Nearby, a stack of baskets sits in a pile. So Danthrin’s servants can collect—but not dare eat—the fruit. On impulse, I grab one, and balancing it against my hip, I guide the lantern light upward in search of ripe apples.
Zander leans against the trunk of the tree.
I let out a surprised yelp. “Do you have any idea how creepy that is?”
He smirks. “I always forget how weak your vision is in the dark.”
“I don’t think you do.” Swallowing against my racing heart, I shift back to my task. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know you have a habit of collecting strays.”
I shoot him a dirty look. “They’re not strays. They’d probably be better off if they were.”
“A young mortal woman like that would not last long without a house to run to.” He hauls himself off the tree and approaches, pulling an apple off a branch and setting it in the basket, his hazel eyes holding mine steadily. They’re brighter than when I saw him last, the tired lining beneath them gone.
Much like they appeared the morning after he last fed.
I look away first, pushing out dark thoughts as my stomach roils. “Did you hear, then, that some other asshole keeper traded her to pay off his gambling debt? And not even on Presenting Day. They don’t follow Islor’s rules. Danthrin doesn’t take care of his people.” Not his household. Not the town.
“Yes, I am seeing evidence that points to that. Abarrane said little food and supplies were found until she knocked on the doors of the more prominent households. It has become clear that Freywich’s struggles have more to do with bad keepers than bad crops.” Zander’s tone is bleak.
“You have to stop him.”
“How do I do that, Romeria? Danthrin isn’t here to collect a punishment, and I do not have a kingdom anymore technically, a truth the people will learn soon enough.”
I don’t bother correcting him when he uses my full name. I’ve always liked the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.
We quietly pluck apples off branches, Zander’s impeccable vision and height allowing him three for every one I find. The basket grows heavy, forcing me to shift it against my hip.
“Are you collecting for the road?”
“Just collecting.” Though having a few to snack on might be wise. Knowing it would piss off Danthrin if he were aware makes it more appealing. “I’d strip these trees of every last piece of fruit and give them to those hungry people. ”
“You always have had a soft spot for these humans. At least now I understand why.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” All Zander knows is that I was a jewel thief. He doesn’t know what I’ve been through, what I’ve seen. But information is power, and the less I give him, the better off I’ll be. Still, I admit, “We used to do this when I was young.”
“Pick apples?”
“Every fall.”
“I can’t imagine Queen Neilina in an orchard.”