Page 79 of War Queen
He was obviously still battling the demons in his own mind. She puffed out a breath between her lips. He wore more armor on the inside than out.
An autumn blanket of red, orange, and yellow covered the hills as they rode through the morning. Norah tried to soak in as much of it as she could. In only a short time, they’d reach the snow of the North, and winter would be long. Longer without Mikael. How long would he have to be in Kharav? As long as Japheth and Rael posed a threat, she supposed. But now with Aleon and Osan joining them, there was hope in seeing him again soon.
“You were right about something, though,” Soren said after a while, breaking the quiet.
She cast him a playful scowl. “You say that like I’m never right.”
He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes.
“Well, what was I right about?”
“I’m not a diplomat. Nor can I be.”
Where was this coming from? And where was it headed? “I think you managed all right.”
He pulled the wrap down from his face, and her stomach dipped slightly. He was Serious Soren when he took down his wrap to speak—more serious than usual. He had a hard message.
“You need to name a new lord justice.”
A knot formed at the base of her throat at the mention. She shook her head. “No.”
“You have to.”
“No, I don’t,” she argued. “I have you. I don’t need another.”
“Salara, I’m your agent of war. But for the North, for peace, you need another.” He paused and looked back at Caspian trailing their unit. “And there is a ready and capable man. The Bear named him his second. Will you not trust that?”
Of course she trusted Alexander’s endorsement, although it wasn’t his decision. She trusted Caspian, but she wasn’t ready to name another. And—she turned her mind back to what the visit to Aleon had almost distracted her from—Alexander wasn’t gone.
Snow covered the ground. Norah wished she’d spent just a few more days in Aleon’s autumnal beauty, but it was still good to be back in Mercia. Catherine had made her recount each detail of the wedding. Norah stuckonlyto the wedding, keeping her discovery of her and Phillip’s arrangement, and other private matters, to herself. She found she remembered more about the food than the ceremony, drawing her grandmother’s ire.
Late into the evening, Norah found herself in Alexander’s study. Everything was just as he’d left it. No one entered this room. It wasn’t a room she’d been in often, but it was one she imagined he’d spent quite a lot of time in. She trailed her fingers the length of his desk as she moved by it. How many hours had he sat here? Her eyes traveled over the shelves of books and ledgers. Caspian would know what to make of all this, and what needed to be done. Why did she hesitate to name him justice?
She sank into the oversize chair by the window. The cold leather prickled her skin through her gown. Had Alexander sat here, mulling hard decisions? She stared out the windowpanes and into the courtyard below.
No.
She stood and moved back to his desk, easing herself into the chair behind it. This was where he’d done his work. She brushed her hands across the top of the desk, over the parchments and maps strewn across the wood.
“Norah!” Catherine’s voice came urgently as she burst in. “There you are. What are you even doing in here? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
She silently cursed herself. Now what?“Why? What’s wrong?”
“You have to come.”
“Where?” What was so urgent? Her stomach knotted as her mind turned to Mikael. “Has something happened?”
“Samuel’s had a vision.” Catherine waved her up. “Quickly!”
The seer? “What is it?” she asked as she followed her grandmother out of Alexander’s study, through the castle, into the courtyard, and around to the seer’s gallery.
“You have to see.”
Norah wanted to shake her. Why couldn’t she just tell her?
They reached the gallery, and Catherine maneuvered through the narrow walkway and the stacks of paintings as if she’d done so a hundred times. Norah bumped a few trying to keep up as she followed her to the back room.
Samuel looked up as they entered, his face pale, his lips pressed in silent worry. He held a paintbrush in his hand—he hadn’t even finished. What had been so urgent? As Norah stepped around it, her breath left her lungs.
