A Brother's Price

were kept ignorant.
    Still, the ignorant disposal tools were human beings. They might have seen or heard something they weren’t supposed to. information they’d gladly trade for their lives.
    “Is there a sheriff for Heron Landing?” Ren asked.
    “Aye.”
    “Have the sheriff round up all the trash. Check them for studded truncheons. Find out where they were yesterday. See if any of them heard of someone hiring for a killing. Have her use whatever means she needs to find us a lead.”
    “Yes. Your Highness.” Raven gave a slight bow and left.
    Ren dried her face, watching the door close behind the captain of her guard. Raven never called her “Your Highness” in private, never bowed. Why the sudden change? Was this some subtle hint that Raven thought Ren was finally acting like a firstborn?
    Jerin woke shortly after dawn as normal. He bathed quickly in the washbasin, brushed out his hair, braided it into one long braid, and pulled on his best shirt, a blue chambray that matched his eyes. After waking Doric and helping the ten-year-old brush out his hair and braid it, Jerin sent him out to gather eggs in the henhouse. Liam and baby Kai, Jerin gathered up and carried downstairs into the kitchen.
    Corelle, Eva, and Kira had gotten up earlier to tend the stock. Heria had the cook fire built up for breakfast. Summer had organized the youngest sisters and they were carrying in pails of fresh milk for breakfast.
    Jerin now put the many hands to work setting tables, fetching jars of clotted cream from the springhouse, opening crocks of blackberry jam and apple butter, cutting slices of yesterday’s leftover bread to toast, fetching a wheel of sharp white cheese and slicing it down, mashing cold potatoes to make potato pancakes, and boiling the fresh eggs. As there were guests for breakfast. Jerin had Heria fetch a leg of ham from the smoke shed. For the occasion of guests too, he brought out a crock of maple syrup. He had no more than opened it when every finger in the room seemed to gravitate toward it.
    “No fingers!” He tapped Doric’s outstretched hands with his long mixing spoon. “Wait for it.”
    There was a collective gasp of surprise. Jerin glanced up and noticed that every eye was focused on the door to the dining room. He turned and found Princess Ren leaning on the doorjamb, watching him with a slight smile on her lips. The memory of her kisses burned suddenly across his senses, and he looked down.
    Heria, Blush, and Leia slid between him and the princess, the set of their shoulders pure defiance.
    “Heria.” He turned her toward the cook fire. “The egg sandglass has run out. Get the eggs from the fire. Blush, start the potato pancakes now, so they’ll be hot with the eggs. Leia, run out to the barns and let your sisters know that breakfast will be in ten minutes.”
    “Jerin!” They protested in chorus, their eyes locked on the princess.
    “Go!” he said kindly but firmly, giving each a small nudge.
    They went to their appointed tasks, though it was clear where their attention remained.
    “They don’t trust me.” Princess Ren came to the high cooking table that he worked at, and took a seat on the stool there. The black-haired captain took Ren’s place at the doorway; she seemed to view the kitchen full of knives and children with a mixture of anxiety and bemusement.
    “Family history makes us leery.” Jerin scooped up baby Kai and slid him into a high chair battered by nearly three dozen babies. He tickled a pure baby giggle out of his brother and spoiled him with a spoon dipped in the maple syrup. Princess Ren watched him and he found himself watching back. Her eyes were deep green, deeper than her sister’s. Her red hair, like a flame, was spun from threads of red, orange, and gold. Her skin was creamy white and unblemished.
    He found himself wishing they had taken that final step the night before. He blushed at the thought and looked away.
    “What happened to make you leery? Your family lose a husband or a son?” Princess Ren asked.
    “Well, actually, it ran the other way,” he admitted. “Our grandmothers kidnapped our grandfather during the War of the False Eldest. He had not come willingly.”
    The princess reached out for the maple syrup and he tapped her fingers out of habit. She looked up at him, startled, while he stared at his spoon, horrified.
    “Ummm, no fingers.” He dipped a spoon into the syrup and handed it to her.
    She smiled at him and lapped the spoon