Page 138 of Shadow Queen
Chapter forty-one
Norahbreathedinthecrisp autumn air, trying to appreciate it while she could. She urged Sephir back to the stables and slid to the ground. It felt good to be outside, to feel the wind on her face and to spend time with the mare. She held some carrot pieces in the palm of her hand and gave a small laugh as the horse lipped them up.
She waved at the stable boy, who took Sephir for a brush down, and she set her thoughts on the rest of the day. But she turned when she heard Adrian’s voice.
“Queen Norah,” he greeted her, and she smiled.
“Adrian.”
“Uh, I was hoping, uh…” He shifted with troubled eyes. “Can I speak to you?”
Her brows drew together. “Of course. Is everything all right?”
Adrian wrung his hands nervously as he took a breath. “Sevina’s with child,” he blurted.
Her breath caught in her throat. “What?” she breathed.
He opened his mouth, but no words came. He only nodded.
“Oh, Adrian. I… I don’t know what to say.” She paused. “How is she?”
He shook his head. “I, uh…” He shuffled as he drew a breath. “I, uh, asked her father for her hand.”
“Oh!” she said, nodding. This was good then.
“He said no.”
“Oh,” she breathed again. This was bad.
“He doesn’t know, though, about the baby, but”—Adrian licked his lips—“she’s scared now.” He paused again. “I am too. I… I don’t know what to do.”
Norah nodded, taking it all in. “Why did her father say no?”
He shrugged, and she could see his frustration. “Because it’s customary for nobles to make a Provision Promise, a large payment that can be put aside to sustain a woman—well, their children—if her husband dies.”
“Oh, Adrian,” she said, letting out a breath of relief with a small smile. “I can help you with money, if that’s all you need.”
He shook his head. “Alec would kill me. It would dishonor him for the crown to pay for what’s my responsibility. And it’s more than just the money. I’m a Northman and brother to the Mercian lord justice, who doesnothold favor here. Understandably.”
Norah sighed sadly. “You should write to Alexander.”
“And tell him I got a woman from the Shadowlands pregnant out of wedlock?” He shook his head. “I’d rather face her father.” He swallowed, shifting nervously again. He was worried, and her heart hurt for him. This should be the best of news, not the worst of news.
“I have to go,” he said. “The lord commander’s expecting me.”
She nodded. “Hey,” she said, making him pause. “We’ll figure this out. There are options, just let me think on it. Let’s talk later, okay?”
He nodded somberly.
Norah needed air. Adrian’s news brought complex emotions. She tried to put on a brave face, but she had no idea what they would do about Sevina. Returning to the castle wouldn’t bring answers, and she decided to follow Adrian to the sparring fields. She leaned against the fence and watched the earlies—those soldiers hopeful of one day being on the Crest—testing their skills.
Adrian fought with them, although he wasn’t one of them. The lord commander had explicitly told him he wasn’t considered an early, yet he insisted Adrian be at every training. The same with Calla and Cohen. At first, Norah had thought he was purposefully making it as difficult as he could for them, hoping they would fail, trying tomakethem fail. But then she caught him occasionally offering genuine guidance—correcting their stance, adjusting their hold on the weapons, and even nodding approvingly when they did something right.
Adrian squared off on the field, sparring with a young man quite a bit larger than he was. Not that Adrian was a small man, by any means. He was a full head’s height taller than Norah, like Alexander. Adrian’s opponent attacked with powerful swings of his sword, but Adrian was fast and maneuvered around him easily.
“Shield up!” a voice boomed.
She turned to see Soren walking toward the men.
