Brightly Woven

elderly gentleman, went straight for the queen.
    “She’s the one bleeding, not me!” Queen Eglantine sighed. “Honestly!”
    The healer went to work immediately, cleaning my cuts as best he could. “I’ll have to stitch these,” he said, glancing up at me through his spectacles. “It’ll hurt something fierce.”
    I must have made a face because Owain suddenly slapped his hand on his knee and said, “Lass! Have I ever told you the story of Vesta’s glorious birth? It started on a cloudy fall day, several years back….”
    It was enough to distract me from the needle, but I wasn’t sure which was worse.
    “—and it felt like coming home, lass, such a beautiful moment.” He finished at the same time as the healer.
    Meanwhile, Queen Eglantine was deep in conversation with two wizards. Finally, she glanced my way.
    “Sydelle,” she said, coming over to me. The two wizards trailed her like dogs. “I’m curious. Is this the same wizard who was involved with the king’s death?”
    “Both kings,” I said. “He was the one who poisoned your husband, but he was also with me in Auster.”
    “A king slayer,” Queen Eglantine said. “I don’t think there’s a punishment worthy of that crime.”
    The idea came so suddenly that I sat straight up. “I can think of something, though you might not relish losing your chance to punish him.”
    “I don’t follow you,” the queen said.
    “Write to the Sorceress Imperial—no, write to her son,” I said as the healer finished bandaging my arm. “Tell them that you have the man responsible for killing Auster’s king, and they can punish him as they see fit. Trade him for peace between the kingdoms. That’ll be retribution enough for Dorwan.”
    Queen Eglantine favored me with a brilliant smile. “I like the way you think.”
    When the message was written, she waved one of the wizards over.
    “No,” I said quickly. “Queen Eglantine, you have no better messenger than this man right here.”
    Owain leapt to his feet. “Lass—”
    “It’s true,” I continued. “Let him take the letter to the port, at least. Have you heard of his horse, Vesta? There’s no faster girl around.”
    Queen Eglantine smiled and seemed to understand me perfectly. “I’ve been in need of a new messenger. Are you someone I can trust, sir?”
    “Your Majesty,” Owain said, dropping into a clumsy bow. “There is no man and horse more faithful or willing to serve.”
    “Then I’ll have you,” she said. “I’d like you to take the letter to Auster yourself, to make sure it reaches Wayland North’s hands directly —not the Sorceress Imperial’s. If she protests this move, remind her whom she serves.”
    Owain’s smile faltered. “But I made a promise to protect this one right here. Can’t go back on that oath.”
    He rested a hand on top of my head, and the queen let out a laugh.
    “I think she’s proven to be more than capable of taking care of herself, don’t you?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

    I rested, I ate, I rested again—for the next five days, I did little but sleep. There were times I woke in the middle of the night, surprised to find myself in a large, soft bed instead of on the hard ground. If I hadn’t the scars to prove otherwise, it might have all been a dream.
    I thought of Cliffton often, even as I walked through Provincia’s crowded markets—not with that old, sharp sense of longing but with sadness and curiosity. Had the soldiers been called back? What did the valley look like now? Was it spotted with every shade of green imaginable? Had it rained since I had been gone?
    I wrote a letter to my mother and father. I told them about Auster’s king, about the possibility of peace, but I kept the rest of the story close to my heart. I signed with, I’ll see you soon , and wondered if there was any truth in that. I had toldHenry that I didn’t want to return with him, but going back to Cliffton didn’t necessarily mean returning to the way things were, did it? Maybe I needed to go back, to truly close that chapter, before I could move forward.
    Henry was doing exactly what I expected: packing. He and the rest of the delegates were staying in small chambers just off the castle’s courtyard. The doors along the corridor were open, and men of all ages milled in and out of one another’s rooms, laughing and chattering like they were having a grand party. They barely acknowledged me, even as I ducked my head into each room, looking for a familiar