Unleashed, p.4
Unleashed, page 4
“You were more trouble than you’re worth.” He spat at Nel’s feet, letting a greasy bit of phlegm land on the toe of her boot, before finally, they walked off.
“You’re certain you’re all right?” Perdita said. “Can we take you somewhere? Make sure you’re safe?”
Maro sighed. “More lost Redmerians. Exactly what we need.”
But at their words, Nel, who had been very clearly about to tell Perdita to mind her own business, suddenly straightened up a little taller and said, “Redmere? Do you know Redmere?”
“In a manner of speaking,” I said, eyeing her. Other than George, no one was so enthusiastic about that awful place. But with every second, Nel’s eyes got wider, and she gasped.
“You’re Redmerian, aren’t you? You are. I can see it in your eyes.”
The question caught me off guard. I hardly considered myself Redmerian anymore. I’d been away almost as long as I’d lived there, and the sea had always felt like more of a home to me. And no one had ever asked me outright about my country of origin. Most of the time, they’d been too busy fighting for their lives.
“In a manner of speaking,” I said again, and her face lit up in delight.
“Are you going there? Can I come with you?”
Now she must be joking. “Whatever for?”
She tipped up her chin, and despite her run-in with Veni, she clearly was used to getting her way. “I have my reasons.”
“I don’t take passengers,” I said and turned to leave.
“Wait,” she said, stumbling forward. “I have family there. Or at least, I think I do.”
“They’ll have to fend for themselves.” With the current exodus, it wasn’t unusual for families to become separated, but surely, she knew the solution wasn’t to give up her hard-won freedom. “They won’t thank you for going back. No one should return to Redmere unless they have to.”
“Return?” She sounded genuinely confused. “But I’ve never been to Redmere.”
That stopped us in our tracks. Or it stopped me, at least. Maro hadn’t actually moved from the spot where they’d been standing, and they were giving Nel a speculative once-over that had her shying away nervously.
“Where are you from?” they asked.
“Anyone with eyes can see she’s from Redmere,” I said.
But Nel answered, “I’m from Sevnan. I grew up near Obwan.” And nothing about the way she said it sounded like deceit or half-truths. In fact, now that I was really paying attention, her accent lilted up at the end the way everyone’s did in Sevnan.
“But you have family in Redmere. Family that came from Redmere and moved to Obwan?” Perdita said, voice rising in excitement.
Distantly, a thought was waking up, stretching like an animal emerging from its den on the earliest warm day of spring. Maro glanced at me with flashing eyes. Their creature was always the first to wake between us, but the indulgent curl of their lips said they were happy to wait for me to figure it out.
For her part, Nel tensed defensively under our scrutiny. “What does it matter where I grew up?”
“We’re looking for someone,” I said. “A lady from Redmere, though she would have left the country a long time ago, possibly even before you were born. We think she settled near Obwan. There can’t be very many of you there, though.”
Nel was already nodding eagerly. “Yes. Yes. I know her.”
So easily? That little description was enough for her to identify a long-lost princess?
“You can help us find her?” Perdita asked.
I expected Nel to promise the moon. Find a lady? She knew precisely where to go. Win over a country? She’d lead the charge. Instead, her whole countenance turned sly—or at least, her best approximation of it. The arch of her eyebrow might have been convincing among childhood playmates, but she was still clearly ignorant of what we were capable of.
“I might know where she is,” Nel said slowly. “But then again, I might not.”
“But you said—” Perdita started, but I nudged her gently with my elbow and she clapped her mouth shut. I’d have a chat with her later about overplaying her hand. She was a competent sailor, but her negotiation skills needed work.
“I can help,” Nel said. “All I need is a promise that you’ll take me with you. To Redmere or wherever it is you’re going next.”
“Knowledge is only worth what someone will pay for it,” I said. “And quite frankly, I’m not feeling very generous today.” We didn’t need Nel. Given how easily she had identified our target, there would be others in Obwan who would do the same without demanding passage. Information could be bought for a few coins, instead of having another mouth to feed.
“The lady doesn’t like visitors,” Nel said, trailing after us. “But if you bring me with you, I’ll smooth the way. She’ll be happy to welcome you when she sees me.”
“And why is that?” Maro asked.
“Because”—she shrugged, clearly thinking she’d won some great battle of wits—“she’s my mother.”
4
GEORGE
Another week passed, and Lou didn’t return. Lord Amphram and the Divarans departed. Even Cheray left the city for a day to inspect the annual lingus root harvest. Lingus root was a much sought-after medicinal herb that Vestria traded in countries across the seas. It was very difficult to grow, and the crops were closely guarded to prevent thieves from smuggling it out of the country for their own gain. Somehow, the thought that a mere root was more important than hungry Redmerians left me even more disconsolate than Lou’s absence. No one cared about Redmere.
With no obligations at court, Rosie, Ender, and I spent our time helping the refugees we could in the city, though it still didn’t feel like enough. Rosie and I had taken to wearing veils and dresses, though they were made of much lighter fabric than those of the people we came across. The clothing made them eye us less warily than if we’d approached with unbound hair and in Vestrian trousers. Ender looming behind us didn’t help; it made them nervous. Some answered questions or accepted the aid we could offer. Others staunchly kept their mouths screwed shut and their eyes on the ground, mumbling tense thanks for a loaf of bread or a vial of medicine before scurrying away.
“Shouldn’t they be less afraid now that they’re here? Whatever the duke has done, they’re safe now,” I said, walking down the street. I was so caught up in the question, I didn’t notice Rosie had fallen behind me until she let out an inarticulate cry. Ender and I spun around in time to find her drop to her knees on the cold ground, reaching toward a slumped form leaning against a wall.
“What is it?” Ender asked.
“Tessa?” Rosie’s voice was full of shock and fear.
“Who?” I asked.
“Tessa?” This time, she shook the body, and the material that seemed to envelop it revealed a woman with an alarmingly thin face. She moaned softly, and Rosie shook her harder. “Wake up. Tessa, wake up.”
“Rosie, what’s going on?” I put a hand on her shoulder, and Rosie swung her gaze up to mine as tears spilled over her cheeks.
“We have to help her,” she said. “It’s my sister.”
“Your sister?” The thought barely registered as I looked down at the woman on the street. “She looks unwell.”
Ender added, “Maybe you should step back. The baby . . . What if—”
“Help her!” Rosie’s voice cracked, but the force in her command was undeniable. I pulled Rosie up to her feet while Ender lifted Tessa off the ground. I worried about his recovery sometimes, but he hefted her into his arms like she weighed nothing at all.
“This way,” I said. “The city hospital isn’t too far.”
Despite this, our progress was slow. Hilltop was busy, and even as I tried to guide her along, Rosie kept turning in my hold, trying to reach for the woman Ender carried. Twice, I nearly tripped over Rosie’s feet, but all I could do was turn her the way we were going and keep moving forward. Ender’s face began to show some strain as we hurried, and my pulse raced. Rosie continued babbling teary comforts, but Tessa never once replied.
Her sister. Rosie always spoke so fondly of her family. I thought she might have sent messages once or twice since we’d come to Hilltop letting them know where we were, but we never received a reply.
“Please,” I said as we finally rushed through the hospital gates. “This woman is ill.”
The man at the door was dressed in a healer’s red and gray uniform, but he looked at Tessa dubiously.
“Ill? She looks far worse than that.”
“She’s not dead.” Rosie shook her head furiously. Her cheeks were blotchy and streaked with dirt where she must have swiped away tears after touching the dirty rags that might have once been Tessa’s dress.
“You’re Redmerian,” the doctor said, eyeing our veils. “Are you refugees? We’ve heard there’s a fever in Redmere City. If you’re infected, then I can’t let you—”
“I am Princess Georgina,” I said, hardening my tone to make it clear I wouldn’t accept refusal. “We are guests of Queen Cheray, and this woman is my friend’s sister. You will treat her. Here. Now.”
He blanched, pressing his lips together. Suddenly, Tessa let out a great racking cough, her whole body convulsing in Ender’s arms. At least we had proof she was still alive enough for treatment. I could only hope she didn’t actually have the rumored fever or anything else that might harm us. Rosie was distraught, but if her baby suffered for this encounter later, she and Ender would never forgive themselves.
“Of course, Your Highness.” The doctor ducked his head, stopping short of bowing. “If you’ll come this way.”
He led us to a small room at the end of a long hall. We passed several empty rooms, and I should have protested that he was wasting time, but I could understand his desire to keep us well separated from other patients here until we knew what was wrong with Tessa. Ender deposited her on a narrow bed, then had to physically wrestle Rosie back when she refused to let go of Tessa’s hand so the doctor could carry out an examination.
“What’s she doing here?” Rosie asked, pacing in the hallway. “How long has she been in Hilltop? Why didn’t she come find me? Did she not receive any of my letters?”
Ender and I watched her helplessly. We didn’t have answers. Suddenly, she stopped, hands to her mouth like she’d realized something horrible.
“What about the rest of my family? Are they here too? We should go look. Ender.” She reached for him, and he took her hand immediately. “What if they were in that street and we didn’t notice? What if—”
“Let’s wait to hear from the doctor,” I said. There were bright spots on her cheeks, and her veil had slipped, leaving streaks of vibrant red hair to form a frantic halo around her face.
Rosie nodded as tears started to spill free again. “Of course, you’re right. You’re right. They’re probably fine. They’re safe. They’re . . .” But whatever her family might be was lost in a sob, and Ender pulled her close, cradling her against his chest as she cried.
We waited longer than I liked before the doctor finally emerged, and Rosie didn’t even wait for him to speak before she stormed through the door, rushing toward Tessa’s bedside. Ender followed after her, leaving me with the grave-faced physician.
“Is it fever?” I asked, but he shook his head.
“Starvation. Cold. I couldn’t begin to guess when she last had a proper meal or a warm bed to sleep in.”
My throat went painfully tight. This was why we were in Hilltop. This was the story I needed people like Lord Amphram to hear. Collectively clucking our tongues and agreeing that the living conditions in Redmere were very sad wasn’t enough.
“So she’ll be all right?” I asked.
The doctor glanced away, clearing his throat. “I don’t see evidence of fever, but there’s infection in her lungs. She’s very weak. I don’t know if she’ll be able to fight.”
Despite his earlier unwillingness to let us in, the doctor promised medicines and to send us food. I thanked him and slipped inside the little room where Rosie had pulled up a chair by the bed and where Ender stood protectively behind her shoulder. Tessa’s eyes were open, but every breath was a struggle.
“Rosie?” Her voice was a rasp, and her complexion was as pale as the sheets she lay on.
“What are you doing here?” Rosie’s face was buried in Tessa’s hair, which, free of the tattered veil, was matted and significantly darker than Rosie’s.
“You’re dead,” Tessa said, wheezing. “You died. Everyone said so.”
“I’m not, Tess. I’m right here. But how are you here? When did you come to Hilltop?” She smoothed a hand over Tessa’s brow.
“Hilltop?” Tessa asked.
“We should let her rest,” I said because every word out of Tessa’s mouth was a clear struggle, but Rosie didn’t seem to notice or hear me.
“Where are the others?” she asked instead. “Our mother? Hilary? Are they all right?”
Tessa closed her eyes, clearly collecting herself. Slowly, the words came out. “We were helping widows escape. The duke killed their husbands, and they had nothing.”
“Killed them?” I asked, growing more alert. “What for?”
But her answer was cut off with a gasping cough that had me retreating instinctively, even while Rosie held Tessa’s hand even tighter. She murmured soothing promises about how Tessa was safe now and how we would help her recover. And I hoped we could. But if she could tell us more, maybe our waiting was finally over.
When she’d regained her breath, Tessa’s gaze found mine. “You must be the princess. The one who took my sister?”
“She’s my friend,” Rosie said, coming to my defense in an instant.
“What about the duke?” I asked. Now was not the time for debates about titles and my role in Rosie’s escape. “What do you mean he’s killing people?”
“What about our family?” Rosie asked, and Ender finally put a hand on her shoulder.
“We should let her rest,” he said.
Rosie shook her head. “I’m staying here.”
“Linus.” In an unexpected moment of strength, Tessa rolled, clutching at Rosie.
“Who is Linus?” I asked, but neither sister acknowledged the question.
Tessa gasped, “The Listening Ceremony. He and Hilary will have been marked. We were nearly caught trying to get the last group of widows out. I don’t know if he . . . if they . . .” But their fate—whoever they might be—was lost in another round of coughing that only ended when a bright spray of blood foamed over Tessa’s lips.
“George!” Rosie said, voice rising in panic.
“I’ll get the physician.” I rushed into the corridor. After several minutes of searching, I found him in a small still room mixing together herbs, but one look at my face and he followed after me in a hurry.
“Out,” he said as he came through the door, but Rosie was once again beyond hearing instructions. She called Tessa’s name as her sister struggled for breath. Finally, Ender had to pull her away, lifting her from the chair. She struggled against him with more strength than either of us expected.
“Shh,” I said, pressing my palms against her cheeks. “The baby. You need to take care of yourself and the baby.”
She shuddered, nodding miserably. Gently, Ender helped her outside. She was pale and shaking, and he kept a careful arm around her as we walked out in the falling evening light.
“You should rest,” I said. “Let the doctors do their work. We can look in on her tomorrow.”
Rosie hiccupped. “I don’t think I could sleep. I’ll stay here.”
“We should go to the palace,” Ender said, face full of concern, but Rosie shook her head adamantly.
“I’ll have the doctor make up a cot here. You can go if you want.”
He wouldn’t. We all knew that. Wherever Rosie went, Ender would follow. I tried to give him a reassuring smile.
“The queen should return soon. I want to tell her about this. If the duke is persecuting people like Tessa, Cheray might finally take action.”
But when I reached the palace, the attendants said the queen hadn’t returned. It was everything I could do not to demand use of a horse and ride out into the countryside to find her. Not that I knew where she had gone. So instead, yet again, I was left with nothing to do but pace the halls and rooms and leave a message with servants to let me know the second Cheray arrived.
I wished Lou was here. She would tell me to be patient. Or congratulate me that I was right. I’d known from the first time we’d heard rumors of the duke’s ascension that he wouldn’t have the people’s best interests at heart. I shouldn’t be excited, not when this knowledge had come on the back of Tessa’s suffering, but I had been waiting for this for so long. It was hard not to look to the horizon and know our waiting was almost over. Lou would find Princess Evelyn, and we would have everything we needed to save Redmere once and for all.
The knock came just as I had started to drop off to sleep. I was sitting in a leather chair by the window, and an uncomfortable knot had formed in the space between my neck and shoulder, but I hurried to open the door and found a tired-looking servant.
“Yes?” I asked, breathless.
“The queen has returned. She asked if your audience could wait until the morning.”
The way he said it didn’t sound like a question, more like a polite reminder that while I was an honored guest, Cheray still set the terms of my time here, but I was in too much of a rush to be patient anymore.
“It really can’t,” I said. “Take me to her now.”
The servant looked upset at that, but he was in no position to deny me. I followed him as he led us out of the guest quarters, trying to not let my frustration show at the stately pace he maintained as we walked through the palace’s grand hall and through a door that led to the queen’s private apartments. The servant took us up a set of winding stairs I hadn’t used before and knocked at the door when we reached the top.
“What is it?” Cheray asked.
