Page 43 of The King's Bodyguard
Thus, I will do what I know I can do. I am a molly of action, not words. I shall bid you farewell—for now—and return this night to my country to relay what I have learned while enjoying the warm hospitality of your court. I will ensure that another path to peace between our countries will be found. Don’t try looking for me. I took Sanson, and no one will catch me if all goes well.
Yours ever, Rilla.”
Gareth stopped. And then added, “P.S. I may not return Sanson if he suits me. I hope this is alright. Send me the price, and I shall repay double.”
I felt like I was going to cry, to laugh, to jump, to faint. I felt a thousand things at once. I wanted to rush away and somehow gather my scattered thoughts. It was over. The wedding wasn’t going to happen. I was free.
Gods. I am free—and that means… Corrin.
Then, as if summoned by my heart, a pale Munni with hair as black as the wings of a raven, green eyes as deep as a forest, and lips as pink as the spring’s first rose. Corrin, looking very bruised and pained, pushed his way past the guards. Wearing only the plainest white cotton shirt, brown doeskin breeches, and a deep green jerkin, Corrin looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed. He bound forward, staring at me with determined intensity, laid bare for all to see.
Corrin loves me.Somewhere, the Munni were rising, uneasily. Others began to murmur.
“Did it happen?” asked Corrin. “Am I too late?”
Chapter 20
Corrin
Consciousness came in fits and starts. I had memories of being lifted, the dim, vaulted ceiling of the stairs leading up out of the dungeons, and then a brief glimpse of a long hall. Then, nothing.
At some point, as though floating up through a sea of darkness, I heard faint voices talking. A wave of fire washed over me as though the surf in which I struggled was made of burning flames. I struggled and then sank back as cool ice spread through me. Ice tinged with mint.
When I next came to, I found myself feeling a bit more alive than I would have thought possible. I could not only move my arms and legs without spasming, but when I turned my head, the world remained, for the most part, still. It hung sideways, but still.
I blinked and focused my blurry vision. My bed was some kind of a low cot. I caught the edge of a wood box, the full length of a stone hearth, and a variety of pots and pans arrayed beforeit. Above, across the mantelpiece, various bottles and jars were ranked.
Slowly, I pried myself up. The first thing that struck me was that my back no longer felt strangely tight—or wet. I eased my neck in a slow circle. No pain. It was a miracle.
I instantly recognized my surroundings now that I was less unfocused and more upright, I had been brought to Aileen, the no-nonsense elderly Sunna medic who was gifted with some healing skills. My gaze drifted over the racks and rickety shelves packed full of herbs and potions and arcane dust. The craft of a magical medic never ceased to amaze me.
However, it was not Aileen who strode in through the door first. Alan, looking rather exhausted but comically dressed up in a flouncy purple robe, strode in. At the sight of me sitting up, Alan raised an eyebrow.
“Already looking lively, eh?”
Lively was a bit of an overstatement, but I was definitely not feeling as though I were at death’s door. Gazing down at my arms, I realized that my bruising hadn’t quite faded, but the pain had definitely receded. I gingerly bent an arm backward in hopes of feeling my back.
Rushing forward and tutting, Alan gently pushed me down.
“I’ll take a look.” His hands gently unwrapped the bandages. He smiled and nodded, clearly pleased at what he saw. “It’s a divine miracle if I do say so myself. Tala, God of the Herb, blessed my hand last night. My Mystical Potion of Healing and Spirits has done the trick! Another dose and you should feel ready to take on the entire castle guard!”
“Feel is the keyword.” Aileen huffed behind him. “Not that you’d be able to lift a sword.”
She was carrying a tray with a bowl and a handful of crackers on the side. My ears perked up at the sight, and my belly grumbled loudly. The elderly molly grinned. Setting the traydown on a small table by the bed, she pushed my meal toward me. Then, she sat down, took up a square of knitting, and began to work her needle.
Alan drew up a chair and sat. Was he waiting for something? The white-haired young tom stared at me through his spectacles and smiled at me owlishly. There was a certain deference about his posture. I flashed him a reassuring smile, hoping that he wasn’t one of those idiots who believed that Munni transformed into beasts or whatnot.
“The healing work is yet to be completed,” agreed Alan. “However, the pain will not be felt for a good day.” He held up a bottle of clear liquid. “And there’s more where it came from.”
“Your elixir with the terrible name?” asked Aileen dryly. “Imagine a patient dying before you can get all the words out to your assistant.”
“I don’t work with assistants,” Alan said loftily. “I am a lone wolf. Much like Corrin here.”
“Corrin is far from a lone wolf.” Aileen pointed out. “In fact, there’s a fair few folk in the castle who wished he were a wee bit more lone. But that’s all nonsense, I say. Killjoys, what they are.”
“Ah.” Alan coughed and glanced at me. “Yes. There are those rumors.”
“The rumors?” I bit into a cracker and added after a swallow. “About L-the king and I?”
