Page 81 of Savage Crown
“You love them, don’t you?” I asked.
She nodded, blinking the tears away. “More than anything.”
“Then show them who you are without Harrow in your head. Start new.”
She swallowed hard and turned to see the children running around the yard, screaming in joy, with candy wrappers littering the yard. She walked over and began to gather the children in a small huddle, apologizing to them for how she had acted.
Kaelric’s eyes came back to me. “Come,” he said quietly, and pulled me away.
It was time for us now. Finally.
Chapter Eighteen
We walked to the castle and entered through a side door while the chant was still rolling through the city.Long live the true wolf king. The words eased when the walls closed around us and became a hum in the stone.
Kaelric looked nostalgically around the hallway as he weaved in and out of it like he remembered every passageway.
He probably did.
His men were making quick work of removing Harrow’s artifacts and old staff, replacing them with trusted members of Kaelric’s household.
He got to a certain spot and frowned. “They cut down the fig tree my father planted for my mother inside this alcove.” His fingers brushed the empty space as if he could still grasp a piece of fruit, and my heart pinched. There was a wall-to-ceiling window letting in a ton of light, which I imagined acted like a greenhouse.
‘Plant a new one. Start fresh,’Val said, and I could feel the tenderness in her voice for her son.
“Your mother says to plant a new one,” I told him, and slipped my hand into his, squeezing tightly.
He nodded, but looked like he was in a dream. “Do you like figs?” he asked me.
I shrugged. “Food is food.”
He shook his head. “No. You have a favorite fruit. Tell me.”
I loved all fruit, especially since it was so hard to get in the Dregs, but since living in Hildreth, I had fallen in love with one particular one.
“Peaches,” I smiled.
Kaelric looked back at the empty alcove, probably remembering a hundred things. “We’ll plant a peach tree.”
My heart warmed at the romantic gesture, and he tugged me farther down the corridor, moving on.
We climbed a narrow stair that curved like a shell. At the top, Kaelric paused before an oak door carved with a running wolf whose head had been worn smooth long ago.
“This was my room,” he said, almost apologetic. “I wonder…” He didn’t finish the sentence, just pushed open the door. The room beyond was clean. Not scrubbed, but cared for. The hearth was swept; the four-poster bed was made with a gray blanket. On a high shelf, a carving of a wooden hawk faced out the window. Blue curtains framed it.
“It’s untouched,” Kaelric said with surprise.
He walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Clothes and a small journal lay inside, and Kaelric took a shuddering breath. “I didn’t expect it to be clean and untouched.”
“I don’t think Harrow had much use for twenty rooms as a single man with no children,” I said, and felt the knot in my chest tighten when Kaelric’s mouth pursed in anger.
“He killed my parents in their bed. I want to seal that room and never go inside,” he told me.
I nodded, slipping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He held on to me tightly for many minutes before pulling back.
“Would it be weird for us to live in this room? I know it’s not big, and you can redecorate?—”
I cut him off: “I would sleep anywhere with you, and this room is bigger than my entire house growing up.” He chuckled, nuzzling his nose along my neck and inhaling my scent.
