Page 92 of The Iron Hex

“Oh?Oh!” Maeve gasped in recognition, placing a hand over Rhona’s.

“It was behind the city guard barracks the whole time,” Rhona said, sitting on the chair near the door that Maeve used to pull her boots on.

“You never noticed it before?” Maeve asked, leaning against the settee closest to where Rhona sat.

“I don’t go to the city guard barracks... ever,” Rhona said. “They’ve never been very welcoming of me.”

“Why not?” Maeve said, tilting her head.

“You can’t be serious,” Rhona said.

“I am.”

“The De Clares weren’t very understanding of women who wished to fight, including joining the city guard.”

Maeve watched Rhona as she spoke, curiosity in her eyes. It infuriated Rhona—of course Maeve wouldn’t understand the struggles a commoner like her had to deal with.

“I tried to join the city guard when I came to the capital... I escaped my damned farm life and arranged marriage, all with the plan to become a knight once I was here. But they told me a woman, no matter how big, couldn’t protect the people of Astra. I spent years waiting and struggling on these damned streets, working with the Iron Resistance and waiting for a time where my merit was more important than my womanhood... the only reason I’m here now is because of the Iron Empire,” Rhona continued.

Maeve watched her, standing up straight from her lean against the settee and looking down at Rhona. “I think that’s awful,” Maeve finally said, “But I don’t think that was King Arthel’s choice.”

“How would you know?” Rhona scoffed.

“I was here in the capital before the uprising, when Princess Evangeline was here,” Maeve explained, leaving out the obvious part—that the Iron Empire had executed the woman before she could become queen. “If her father had been against women protecting the country, then why would he have agreed for his daughter to become the ultimate protector of the realm? And believe me, thatwashis plan.”

Rhona watched Maeve, confusion in her eyes as she processed what Maeve said. Lord General Kerrigan had told her that the De Clares hated women with power. Rhona hadn’t thought past it, hadn’t thought about the princess and her planned succession.

Maeve placed a hand on Rhona’s cheek. “I’m not trying to derail the discovery you made today, just trying to show you that there’s nuance here.”

“The city guard... were terrible to me, though,” Rhona said.

“That doesn’t mean it was the king telling them to be.”

Years of hating King Arthel because she’d been told he was the source of her problems, but now she was being told that that hadn’t been true. Rhona needed Maeve to be wrong, orelse she didn’t know what so much of her anger all these years had been for.

“You are deserving of your knighthood, Rhona. You just need to decide who truly deserves to be protected,” Maeve said, kissing Rhona on the cheek.

All at once it hit Rhona. It was Maeve. Maeve was who Rhona wanted to protect right now.

Maeve’s lips lingered and Rhona could feel her breath on her cheek. She turned to the lady, their lips a breath apart, and she closed the gap without thinking, touching her lips to Maeve’s before instantly pulling away.

“I’m so sorry, Lady Maeve,” Rhona said, fingers to her tingling lips as she backed toward the door, her cheeks on fire. It was improper to kiss the lady, but Rhona was finding it harder and harder to find a reason that felt sufficient enough to stop herself.

Maeve stepped forward, dark eyes sparkling. “You do not need to apologize.” She grinned. “I liked it.”

“I’ll let you know what happens when I go to the archway tonight,” Rhona said, panicking and running out the door.

“I will speak to you then!” Maeve called after her.

45

Hugo

Hugo, Eira, and Evangeline left the Griffon’s Nest just as the sun was about to set. The air was tense, the three of them barely speaking as they walked toward the city. Hugo, using memories from his time in Luwha years prior, had built out a plan in his head to get them to the center of town without being seen—or at least being seen by as few people as possible.

They were cloaked, the two women dressed in their leathers and riding leggings, their hoods up. Hugo thanked his past self for spending his dwindling coin on leather armor for both of them—it might save them yet. Evangeline had gotten the last black set, Eira in a deep blue that, while pricier, Hugo thought would complement her hair. If they weren’t in so much danger he would have hoped that she would notice, but the tension between the three of them was thick.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Evangeline whispered to the two of them. “It’s too risky. Even if we get in, will we be able to get out?”