Page 63 of Under a Northern Sky

The men on guard duty allow us through the open gates, bowing their heads. “Welcome back, my deve,” one of them says, then after a slight hesitation, he adds, “And you, my a’deve.”

When I ignore them, Rina feels compelled to answer. “Thank you.” I don’t reprimand her . . . or the guard. Though I’m still unsure how I feel about this a’deve business that’s going around.

The clop of the horses’ hooves on the cobbles has the two stable boys on duty come running.

“Grab onto my elbow,” I tell Rina, holding my arm high to carefully lower her to the ground while the boys take the reins.

“My deve,” one of the boys says as I dismount. “May I speak to the lady?”

In the torchlight, I give him a once-over, but Rina comes forward before I can respond. “Of course you can.”

The boy bows his head . . . possibly with more reverence than he granted me. The little shit.

“A’Deve,” he says with bemusing excitement. “My brother saw you shoot today from your window and said it was a feat worthy of the Father himself!”

I barely hold in a scoff.

The boy’s not done yet though. “My brother also said you were ever so kind to him when they returned the arrows.” He gives her another deep inclination of his head.

“Oh?” Rina replies. “Is he one of Rionnon’s friends?”

The stable boy nods vigorously. “My mother wishes to thank you for your kindness.”

Rina presses her palms to her heart, and in her custom, offers a blessing. “I return the thanks and wish much fortune to you and your family . . .” She pauses. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Baron, my lady.”

“Well, I wish you and your family much good fortune, Baron.” She says it with sincerity, like she actually means it, and the boy humiliates himself with all his gushing thanks.

“Just take the horses,” I gripe. “And be off.”

He snaps to attention. “Yes, Deve.” And they lead the horses away.

I offer Rina a dry, “Will her ladyship, the a’deve, need carrying tonight?”

Rolling her eyes, she reaches for my arm. “She will not. But she might need a bit of support.” We start across the courtyard to the main doors. “You know, I’ve tried to discourage everyone from using the title. It wasn’t my idea.”

When I just grunt at her, she goes on with, “Do most boys’ names end in–onhere?”

“What?”

“Baron, Eldon, Bron, Rionnon, Ion . . . even Carson and Cayson, the bastards. Luka’s not short for something, is it?”

I laugh. “It is actually. My name is Lukaron.”

“Really?” The blue-green of the sky has faded by now, but her smile, akin to the sun in the dark, seems to light up our surroundings.

“It’s better than Amarinata,” I grumble, waiting patiently for her to climb the steps.

“If you say so.”

Pulling the heavy door open, I watch her pass into the Great Hall under my arm, her smile becoming a giggle. Mother help me, but the sound pulls something very pleasantly taut inside of me.

“Well, well, well,” comes from off to our left. “How very touching, the deve and his intended whore.”

Rina startles and moves to my back, using me as a shield between herself and Cayson, who’s chained to the hearth like the faithless animal he is.

“Shut up, brother!” sounds from the other side of the room and Rina starts again. I turn to send Bron a glare and find him sitting with his oldest brother, Gray, in the almost deserted Great Hall. I don’t remember the last time Gray was here.

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