Page 31 of Shadows of Winter
Though they’d all been disturbing, that one had troubled her the most, because the man hadn’t been a ranger, and there hadn’t been any rangers in the vision to suggest an association with them. He’d looked like a customer at the old inn. Since Kaylina wanted to open a business in the castle, a customer-killing curse didn’t bode well.
When dawn had come, its arrival announced violently by a chandelier crashing to the floor in the great hall, Frayvar’s eyes had been as hollowed and haunted as hers. She hadn’t needed to ask if he’d also experienced dreams—nightmares.
A yawn made Kaylina pause her cleaning, and she wiped her gritty eyes. A part of her wanted to curl up in a corner and do nothing—after all, they didn’t yet know if Vlerion would be able to talk the owner into leasing the castle to them—but she had a vague notion that if this place was intelligent, it might appreciate being tidied up.
While she worked, she glanced out the windows often, waiting for Vlerion’s return. Not because she missed him—hardly that—but because she wanted him to see that they’d stuck out the night. She might have bags under her eyes, dust in her hair, and cobwebs stuck to her clothes, but she hadn’t left the premises.
Crunches came from the kitchen, Frayvar eating one of several apples he’d found while out. This far north, pickings were slim this time of year, only fruits that could store over the winter, but his munching noises implied he found them satisfactory. He’d brought her pastries and dried jerky, but he was, as always, unwilling to eat food that anyone else prepared. Unpeeled fruits and vegetables were okay, since nobody dusted them with nutmeg or other toxic spices, as he called them. There was a reason he was always gaunt.
As midday approached, one of Kaylina’s glances out the window made her pause. Someone stood outside the wrought-iron gate, gazing at the front of the castle.
A woman? The person wore a fur-trimmed cloak with the hood up, so it was hard to be certain, but she was slender and not much taller than Kaylina. Snow wafted from the gray sky, so the outfit wasn’t unusual, but the steady way the person gazed at the castle—and through the window—made Kaylina think she wasn’t a casual passerby.
Kaylina put her back to the stone wall, wondering how long the woman had been peering in.
Frayvar walked out of the kitchen, waving the newspaper. “It’s a good thing we didn’t go with the people breaking out of jail, especially that one that was all beat up. It was Wedgewick, right?”
“The man who was being tortured? That’s my guess.”
“There’s a reward for him and three other ringleaders of the rebellion. The Virts. I guess the newspapers call them that because they run around referring to themselves as the righteous and virtuous.”
Kaylina nodded. She’d gotten the gist of the name.
“Those leaders are to be brought in dead or alive. If alive, they’ll be hanged in a place called Mason Square.” Frayvar skimmed the article as he spoke. “Anyone found associating with one of the ringleaders will either be jailed without chance of parole or, if they’re found guilty of treasonous actions themselves, strung up with the others.” Frayvar gave her a pointed look.
Since Kaylina had considered going with those people, she couldn’t wave away the threat and say that such a fate never would have befallen them.
She looked out the window. Their watcher was gone. Good.
“We won’t associate with anyone,” she said.
“If we were going to associate, it would be safer to be on the side of the rangers.”
“You just like Vlerion’s taybarri.”
“They’re beautiful animals. And the ranger is…”
“Also beautiful?” Kaylina smirked.
He wasn’t. Even handsome might be a stretch with that scar and severely short hair. Though he did have some kind of draw. Maybe it was his athleticism and fighting prowess. It was hard to put a finger on it, but she didn’t think her wandering thoughts about sex during the questioning could be dismissed as entirely drug-induced.
“Uh, you’d have to be the judge of that. I…” Frayvar’s gaze drifted toward the window.
Kaylina tensed. Had their watcher returned?
“Now, she’s beautiful,” he whispered, his jaw dropping as he gazed in appreciation.
A pale-skinned woman in a blue coat, matching dress, and fur-trimmed boots was stepping out of a carriage, her wavy blonde locks tumbling past her shoulders. Her green eyes sparkled as she considered the castle with a bemused expression on her elegant face.
The driver asked something, probably if she was sure she wanted to get out here. She nodded, gave him a coin, and removed a leather satchel before heading into the courtyard, stepping carefully. An inch of fresh snow made Kaylina realize she would have to add shovel to the long list of supplies and equipment they needed to open a restaurant. She didn’t know how much money Frayvar had brought, but expenses would add up quickly.
Maybe they should have started with a vendor’s cart and a tent instead of trying to lease a building. Especially a giant castle. But it was hard to cook out of a tent, and she needed space for the mead once she bottled it.
“She must be the Saybrook woman.” Frayvar continued to gaze at her.
“Pretty,” Kaylina guessed, remembering Targon’s descriptors.
“If there’s a sister who’s even prettier, I can’t imagine it.” Frayvar appeared ready to offer her his servitude, devotion, and complete control over his life.