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She looked at Kitt with fresh eyes. He was one of Tomas’s advisors – his friend. Was he a part of the plan the king had mentioned? Was all his kindness towards her just a ruse?
‘Are you all right?’ he asked her, and his look of concern was so clearly genuine that Oriane felt a twinge of guilt for doubting his94intentions. She did not quite know how to read people properly, not yet, but she did know kindness. It ran in her father’s blood, had suffused every aspect of her upbringing, and she recognised it in Kitt.
Before Oriane could answer him, Andala stumbled around the corner, pale and panting slightly. ‘Kitt—’
‘I know.’
Kitt ushered them both inside, then began pacing the floor in front of Oriane’s unlit fireplace. His face had an ashen cast to it.
‘I heard what happened,’ Andala said. ‘I saw Tomas. I haven’t seen him like that since—’
‘I know,’ said Kitt again.
‘What is going on?’ asked Oriane quietly. ‘Why was he soangry?’
Kitt ceased his pacing and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know. He used to get like this sometimes, right after he first became king – flying off the handle at the slightest provocation. Like Andala said, though, he hasn’t been like that for a long while now.’ He turned to Oriane. ‘He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.Aboutyou like that. I’m sorry, Oriane. I’ll talk to him. Find out what’s going on.’
‘Be careful,’ Andala said immediately, as he moved to the door. ‘I don’t like the look of him at the moment. Don’t get on his bad side.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Kitt said distantly. His mind already seemed to be outside the room. Before he left, he glanced at Oriane. ‘Try not to worry. You’re in no danger here. I’ll make sure of it.’
After he had gone, Andala began lighting up the steadily darkening room.
‘Andala?’
She didn’t look up from her work, but murmured, ‘Hmm?’
‘Do you think Kitt’s right? That I’m not in any danger?’
Her back to Oriane, Andala paused, straightened. Then she turned and gave a brief, tight-lipped smile. ‘Of course he’s right.95He knows Tomas. This was just a misunderstanding; he’ll get to the bottom of it. And besides – you’re the skylark, Oriane. Nobody would harm you, least of all the king.’ She smiled again, but Oriane wasn’t sure it reached her eyes. ‘Who would call forth the day if he did?’
Oriane nodded, but somehow, the words didn’t sound as comforting as she thought Andala had meant them to.
Soon every lamp and candle in the room was lit, the soft glow an instant source of comfort. Outside, the sky was completing its slow fade from blue to black. Her tasks complete, Andala made her way to the door, where she asked Oriane if there was anything she needed.
Oriane had the sudden urge to ask her to stay. But it was a foolish impulse – she was being stupid. Andala had said it herself: there was nothing to fear.
So Oriane bid her good evening and moved to the window, where she watched the night bloom like a pitch-black flower.
She passed an all but sleepless night, tossing and turning as she worried about what the morning would bring. But the king’s demeanour – somewhat jarringly – was back to its usual easy warmth as he greeted Oriane before her dawnsong. Perhaps Kitt had been able to calm him down.
Beside the king, by contrast, Hana looked worn-out and vacant, as if she were in the room in body only. As Oriane dipped and flew about, dawnsong streaming from her beak, she spied Tomas murmuring to his sister in a low voice. Hana did not respond.
After her song was done and the sun beamed gold through the windows, Oriane transformed, expecting the usual barrage96of questions and well wishes. But Terault, emerging from his inconspicuous post at the rear of the room, began to escort the watchers out. They could speak with her another time, she heard him explain. The king had important business with the skylark today.
Oriane’s nerves returned in full force. But the king drew near cautiously, as one might approach a spooked horse.
‘My lady,’ he began quietly. ‘I owe you an apology. Yesterday, my behaviour – well, it was far from kingly. You, of all people, do not deserve to be treated in such a way. I was—’ He cut himself off, and after a blink and an indrawn breath, he finished simply, ‘I am sorry. Please forgive me.’
Whatever Oriane had been expecting, it hadn’t been an apology. She remained silent, unsure how to respond. The remorse in his expression seemed sincere. The irate stranger from yesterday was gone. This was the King Tomas she had first met: an earnest man who believed her song was magic, and wanted nothing more than to give his people hope.
‘There is nothing to forgive, my king,’ she finally replied.
Relief washed over Tomas’s face. He grinned at her, genuine and full of warmth, and she could not help but smile back.
‘It is bold of me, I know, to ask a favour so closely on the heels of asking forgiveness,’ he said. ‘But …’
He turned to his sister, who had stood silent behind him throughout the exchange. Oriane glanced at her in surprise. Hana looked a little more present now, but there was an air of unease in her demeanour, a faint sense of reluctance as she stepped forward.
