Page 195 of North Queen
“Help me get ready.”
The wet, muddy ground was soft beneath her feet.
Outside the city, Norah walked with Vitalia up the hill to the large public burial ground. She wished she’d left her jacket in the carriage. The sun sat high in the sky. Even though it was still winter, it was as hot as a summer day.
They gathered in a large circle around a hole in the earth, with Bremhad’s body wrapped in linen beside it. It seemed such a strange thing, to bury the body of a loved one in the dirt. In Mercia, bodies were burned to free the soul so it could travel to the gods, except the bodies of the kings and queens. Their souls remained tethered to this world, watching over the people, guiding their hands to the will of the gods.
The Kharavian people didn’t believe in gods or souls. They believed bodies should be returned to the earth from which they came. Norah didn’t know what she believed. Neither made her feel differently about death, neither took away the pain.
More people had come than she’d expected; many were servants, and some were dressed in finer clothing. She was surprised to see so many soldiers of the Crest—perhaps all the members of the Crest—nearly an army.
“I didn’t know the Crest knew Bremhad,” she whispered to Vitalia. “Or knew that he was Kiran’s father.”
“They didn’t. They only found out yesterday. But they came to support Kiran.”
Her eyes combed the people to find him, and she did—standing beside his mother. He spotted her and started toward her.
Vitalia slipped away as he approached, giving them space.
“Salara,” Kiran said as he reached her. “You honor us.”
“It was the least I could do.” She watched as he pressed his lips together tightly to hold back his emotion. It only prompted her own. “It’s warmer than usual,” she said, breaking the weight of the air.
Kiran’s breath steadied. “It’s what greenskeepers call alhilat—the great trick, a false spring.” His lips held a weak smile. “My father hated it. It lasts just long enough for the blooms to start, then the ice returns and kills them all.” He looked at the skies. “We’ll soon be in winter again.”
Kiran’s face hardened, and Norah followed his gaze to see Artem at the edge of the grounds.
“Ignore him, Kiran,” she told him. “Focus on your father.”
“I’ll see that man dead.”
She couldn’t object. “You really think he did this?”
“He ordered it. He wouldn’t do it himself, fucking coward.” He glanced at Norah. “Forgive my words, Salara.”
Norah watched Artem as he watched them. He did look like a fucking coward. He was the only man who wore full armor, aside from Mikael. He probably viewed himself of equally deserved status. He wasn’t.
“Are men loyal to him?” she asked.
Kiran snorted. “A few. Not many.”
“How is he captain, then?”
“He was captain of the Crest for Salar’s father. He’ll stay captain until he’s promoted. Or dies.”
“Maybe that’s why he wears all that armor. The latter’s more likely.”
Kiran snorted again. He turned and looked at her. “If you ever need anything, Salara, I’m still in service to you. I took my oath for life. I’m still a soldier of the Crest.”
“Thank you, Kiran.”
He gave her a small bow of his head and went back to join his mother by the body of his father. She wished Mikael would return sooner, to right this wrong. But how could it be righted? And what would he do? Now there was this distance between them, and she was a prisoner.Again. Maybe that’s what she’d been all along. Maybe she’d only been fooling herself. Maybe what she’d felt, what she’d thought she’d felt…
Vitalia took the vacated place by Norah’s side.
“I can’t stay here any longer,” Norah said. “I can’t bear it, Vitalia. I have to find a way to get home.” She watched as men lowered Bremhad’s body into the earth. No more—she was leaving. Today. Tonight. She turned her eyes to Vitalia. “You know this castle. You can sneak us out.”
Her maid nodded. “I could get you as far as the burial ground. Then I could return and keep them unknowing a while longer for you to get away.”
