Page 198 of North Queen
The guardsman sighed and stepped to the door, turning his back to give the desolate women privacy.
Norah trembled in a maddening rage, but the only thing she could do was wait for Mikael to return. She and Vitalia pulled Serene into the bed and lay in the dark, trying to hold back the tears.
“Salara.”
Norah woke to Bhastian calling her. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat up, careful not to wake Serene and Vitalia lying beside her.
“Is it morning?” she whispered.
“Yes, early morning. Salar and the lord commander have just returned.”
“Oh,” Norah breathed as she slipped out of the bed.
He hesitated. “But, Salara, it’s not a good sign. The lord commander has gone straight to his study, where he’s to be left alone.”
That wasn’t entirely indicative of something bad. If the lord commander was unhappy, it could be the seer had spoken in her favor.
She hoped.
Norah padded into the bath chamber and ran her fingers through her hair. She splashed water onto her face from the basin and took a deep breath. Mikael would listen. Things between them weren’t completely broken. She just needed to talk to him.
She stepped back out into her chamber and slipped on her shoes. “Where is he?” she asked Bhastian.
“I imagine he’ll be reaching the castle from the stables any moment.”
Norah left her sanctuary and made her way through the castle with Bhastian close behind. What had the seer told Mikael? Would it break things more between them? She feared the answer.
She waited by the stair, pacing circles around the inlaid image of a sun on the stone floor. Her mind raced, and her stomach threatened to upheave the contents of her last meal. But she had to stay calm. She walked through the conversation in her mind. She’d tell him what Artem had done, about Bremhad and Kiran. She would tell him about Serene. She’d have to admit her effort to escape. He would understand. Or he might become more suspicious.
Her heart thrummed faster.
The front doors of the castle swung open, and Mikael strode through. He stopped when he saw her.
He looked weary. Dried mud covered the greaves of his armor. He held his helm in his hand by a single horn. He didn’t speak.
Every intelligent sentence in her mind left her, every word. The silence was overwhelming between them as she searched his face for clues.
He silently walked to her, and she didn’t move.
Ever so slowly, he brought his hand to her face. He brushed her cheek with his fingertips and grazed his thumb over the line of her lips. His eyes trailed his somber touch—mournful even.
Mikael pulled back, still without a word, and then turned for the stairs.
“What did the seer tell you?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t want to talk about it—not a good sign, but she needed to talk to him.
She followed him up the stairs. “Mikael, I need to speak with you. About Captain Artem.”
He paused. “I can’t speak about this right now.”
She couldn’t accept that. “I’m sure you’re tired and want to rest, but it’s important,” she pressed. “I can’t tolerate him any longer. He—”
“Don’t ask any more of me,” he said, turning back to her. His voice was tinged with exasperation and hints of anger. “Not now.”
She stepped back in surprise. She hadn’t expected his reaction.
“I won’t hear it,” he said, and he started back up the stairs.
