Page 156 of Revealing Fate

“You?”

Kal’s lips twitched at her disbelief. “I can be diplomatic when I choose to be.”

Of course, he could. He was the son of a great lord and lady. The heir to Brightsea and the whole eastern shore. Kal had likely been trained from a young age to inherit a realm and all the responsibilities that accompanied its oversight.

Felíne looked back at Saul. “Thank you. I truly did not expect this. I’m only happy Lucien was unable to accomplish what he intended.”

“As am I, Kitty,” Saul said. “Freeing you to make a life here, should you choose,” at this, he glanced knowingly at Kal, “is the least I could offer for what you’ve contributed. I do hope you stay. Our infirmary would greatly benefit from your knowledge and skill.”

Across the room, Santhe stilled, likely considering the truths that Saul and Beulah remained ignorant of. Truths that would arguably change their view and Saul’s offer.

Regardless, sudden emotion unfurled in Felíne’s chest. Would that she had such freedoms. And yet, at the mention of them, with the knowledge that such a future lay forever beyond her desperate reach, Felíne felt more shackled than she had when bolted to that iron rod in the city square.

Saul made quick work of signing the required contracts for Felíne’s legal absolution. Beulah added her name with a sweeping flourish and wrapped Felíne in a brief, smothering hug. Kal penned his own name on the document with simple, slanting strokes.

A copy would be added to Meress’s archive. Another would be made available to the community after Saul had recovered enough to address the public in a formal capacity.

Santhe, Felíne, and Kal excused themselves from the room shortly thereafter to allow Saul time to rest. Beulah stayed behind to clean the kitchen and wait for Mender Stroupe’s return. The three of them stepped out into the late morning.

“I suppose I’ll go check in with the girls and see if they need any assistance in the bakery,” Santhe announced, referencing Beulah’s daughters. “What will you do?” The woman’s question was directed at Kal, but her brown eyes settled briefly on Felíne.

“I need to stop by The Hollows,” Kal answered. To reassure himself that Rask Harless still occupied one of the barred pits, no doubt. Felíne would excuse herself from that venture. She had no desire to return to the dreadful place. “Then, home?”

Kal’s dark gaze held hers with a tentative hope that broke her heart. Home. Felíne worried that the only place she would ever truly belong was at this man’s side. Sharing a fire-lit cavern. Dancing through a whiskey dream. Together in the forest, walking a path that gods once tread. Shackled on a dais before a seething mob. It didn’t matter what space they occupied. Nor what manner of chaos surrounded them. If Kal was next to her, near her, Felíne was home.

She was just about to reply when a commotion disturbed her musings. Kal’s superb hearing picked up on something beyond her comprehension, but whatever it was soured her gut. His focus fixed on the distant space between two buildings, toward one of the main roads where a group of people gathered, and his expression took on a dangerous edge.

“Kal…” Santhe murmured, her own attention drawn to the gathering.

To the lone rider that, just moments before, thundered to a halt amidst the throng.

Felíne had just about had enough with crowds. She decided right then and there that congregations of more than three people spelled trouble. She desired nothing more than to hermit herself away into an isolated burrow filled with a hoard of books, abundant snacks, and endless cups of tea.

“What is it?” Felíne asked, dreading the answer.

Santhe was already heading toward the commotion. “That’s a perimeter scout.”

Kal took her by the hand and followed after Santhe. Felíne had the sudden urge to dig her heels in and run the opposite direction.

“Why is this concerning?”

Kal’s eyes were like pitch. His countenance matched. “The only reason a perimeter scout abandons their post is to communicate a direct threat to Meress.”

“But we’re in the heart of a forest that spans for miles,” Felíne protested. She hadn’t been able to escape capture among the expanse of densely growing trees. And she was one woman. There was a reason the Cozened had chosen this location for their sanctuary. The wood was nigh unbreachable. “What could possibly threaten this city?”

Kal didn’t answer. They’d reached the main road.

Vorak and Stef were among those gathered, wearing identical stony expressions. Vorak nodded to the rider as they approached. The scout wheeled his bay mount and departed at a canter. Vorak’s emerald gaze found them.

Kal didn’t have to ask.

“There’s been an envoy,” Vorak said as though announcing the end of all good things. “From Asteros.”

Felíne’s heart stilled. Kalevar’s audibly thundered in comparison. The words weren’t even out of Vorak’s mouth yet, and she wanted him to take them back.

He didn’t.

“King Domitan Faelstrom is coming.”