him, Alix. And Liam will be fine. Youâll see.â
Alix let out a long breath. Nodded. Taking the horseâs bridle, she led him away from the scouts and across the yard to the main doors, where she handed him off to Godwin. She mounted the steps the way a condemned man climbs the stairs to the gallows. Inside, Liam and Erik awaited her. When she gave the word,they would leave. They would ride out together as far as the south gate. And then they would part, for the gods only knew how long. Liam would head east, Alix and Erik west. Not for the first time, Alixâs heart and her duty would tear her in two.
She hesitated outside the door to the study, but there was no point in putting it off further. Nodding to the royal guardsman on the door, she stepped through.
âItâs time, Your Majesty.â
Erik looked splendid in his armour and white leather, the garnet-studded pommel of his bloodblade jutting out from his hip, and Alix realised how long it had been since sheâd seen him dressed for battle. The sight was at once inspiring and disconcerting.
âDonât look so downcast, Alix,â he said. âYouâre going home.â
She managed a smile. âI do look forward to seeing Blackhold again. Though . . .â The smile faded. âI wonder what I will find.â
Liam looked away, his mouth pressed into a thin line. She could guess his thoughts. He wanted to be there for her when she stepped through the doors of her childhood home. A place she hadnât seen for nearly two years, that had fallen to the enemy, with gods knew what consequences for those beloved halls.
I wonder if I will even recognise it.
She pushed the thought away. âAfter you, Your Majesty.â
It was chaos in the courtyard. Grooms and squires bustled between horses stamping and snorting with impatience. The White Wolves gathered near the armoury, the scouts near the cistern. The supply wagons were islands of stillness in a sea of moving horseflesh. Near the gate, the honour guard was already mounted up, the White banner dangling from gilded spears propped in their saddles.
The kingâs arrival brought a hush over it all. Heads turned. Some faces were apprehensive, others merely expectant. If Erik noticed, he gave no sign; he mounted up as if they were merely heading out for a leisurely hunt.
The Street of Stars had been cleared for the procession, but the common folk were permitted to gather along the fringes. And gather they did, in gutters and side streets, on rooftops and balconies. It seemed to Alix that every man, woman, andchild in Erroman lined the route, watching in an eerie near-silence as the king and his retinue rode past. She was reminded forcibly of last summer, when Erik and the banner lords had returned from the front. The streets had been quiet then too, the people unsure how to react to the unexpected sight of their king, a man whose crown had nearly been wrested from him by his own brother. That ride had ended in triumph, with joyful crowds all but carrying them to the palace gate.
Alix felt as though she were reliving that day in reverse.
The crowds bore sombre witness all the way through the south gate and onto the old temple road. Alix hadnât been this way since
that day
, and she couldnât suppress a shudder. The gate had been repaired, the bodies long since buried, but it seemed to Alix that an aura of death remained, like a foul odour that never quite goes away.
The others felt it too, she could tell. Erikâs gaze roamed over the ruins, grim and thoughtful. Liam, meanwhile, wouldnât even look at the pile of rubble that had once been the Eldersâ Gate. He stared straight ahead, unblinking, as though he could pass the place where Arran Green had died without it tugging relentlessly at him, like a fishhook catching at the weeds.
The column drew to a halt at the crossroads. Erik, Liam, and Alix dismounted.
âI guess this is it,â
Alix let out a long breath. Nodded. Taking the horseâs bridle, she led him away from the scouts and across the yard to the main doors, where she handed him off to Godwin. She mounted the steps the way a condemned man climbs the stairs to the gallows. Inside, Liam and Erik awaited her. When she gave the word,they would leave. They would ride out together as far as the south gate. And then they would part, for the gods only knew how long. Liam would head east, Alix and Erik west. Not for the first time, Alixâs heart and her duty would tear her in two.
She hesitated outside the door to the study, but there was no point in putting it off further. Nodding to the royal guardsman on the door, she stepped through.
âItâs time, Your Majesty.â
Erik looked splendid in his armour and white leather, the garnet-studded pommel of his bloodblade jutting out from his hip, and Alix realised how long it had been since sheâd seen him dressed for battle. The sight was at once inspiring and disconcerting.
âDonât look so downcast, Alix,â he said. âYouâre going home.â
She managed a smile. âI do look forward to seeing Blackhold again. Though . . .â The smile faded. âI wonder what I will find.â
Liam looked away, his mouth pressed into a thin line. She could guess his thoughts. He wanted to be there for her when she stepped through the doors of her childhood home. A place she hadnât seen for nearly two years, that had fallen to the enemy, with gods knew what consequences for those beloved halls.
I wonder if I will even recognise it.
She pushed the thought away. âAfter you, Your Majesty.â
It was chaos in the courtyard. Grooms and squires bustled between horses stamping and snorting with impatience. The White Wolves gathered near the armoury, the scouts near the cistern. The supply wagons were islands of stillness in a sea of moving horseflesh. Near the gate, the honour guard was already mounted up, the White banner dangling from gilded spears propped in their saddles.
The kingâs arrival brought a hush over it all. Heads turned. Some faces were apprehensive, others merely expectant. If Erik noticed, he gave no sign; he mounted up as if they were merely heading out for a leisurely hunt.
The Street of Stars had been cleared for the procession, but the common folk were permitted to gather along the fringes. And gather they did, in gutters and side streets, on rooftops and balconies. It seemed to Alix that every man, woman, andchild in Erroman lined the route, watching in an eerie near-silence as the king and his retinue rode past. She was reminded forcibly of last summer, when Erik and the banner lords had returned from the front. The streets had been quiet then too, the people unsure how to react to the unexpected sight of their king, a man whose crown had nearly been wrested from him by his own brother. That ride had ended in triumph, with joyful crowds all but carrying them to the palace gate.
Alix felt as though she were reliving that day in reverse.
The crowds bore sombre witness all the way through the south gate and onto the old temple road. Alix hadnât been this way since
that day
, and she couldnât suppress a shudder. The gate had been repaired, the bodies long since buried, but it seemed to Alix that an aura of death remained, like a foul odour that never quite goes away.
The others felt it too, she could tell. Erikâs gaze roamed over the ruins, grim and thoughtful. Liam, meanwhile, wouldnât even look at the pile of rubble that had once been the Eldersâ Gate. He stared straight ahead, unblinking, as though he could pass the place where Arran Green had died without it tugging relentlessly at him, like a fishhook catching at the weeds.
The column drew to a halt at the crossroads. Erik, Liam, and Alix dismounted.
âI guess this is it,â
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