After a few more minutes of standing there, my mother wandered over, panting from dancing and reaching for my mug to drink what was left in it. “I know that look,” she said, the excitement fading from her face as it filled with worry. “It’s the look of a young girl who’s not managed to catch supper, and who always thought it was her fault when we hadn’t food to eat.”
I took in a deep, sobering breath, and let it out in a heavy sigh as I thought about how to articulate the concern of my thoughts. “We’re leaving tomorrow. Nearly every fighter in the mountain and the surrounding villages will be leaving to fight at Cornwall.” I paused, and my mother hummed in acknowledgment. “Hazlitt is a cruel and vengeful man, and I don’t trust that he wouldn’t send soldiers to strike out at the mountain while it was unguarded just to hurt Ava or me.” Ava had said that she’d never told Hazlitt where the caves were, but that didn’t mean he was incapable of knowing or finding out. “If he did, I’ve no doubt that you, and Nilson, and Akamar would be the only targets, and all the fighters staying back are ones too unprepared for the heart of battle. There may as well be no fighters at all here to protect you.” I glanced back at my brother and Akamar, and though I was so unwilling to risk my family, I was still unsure that what I was thinking was right. Whether it was the best thing to do, or whether it would truly bring me comfort. “None but one.”
I could feel it the moment realization dawned on her, but there was none of the fear or reluctance I expected to see on her face. “Silas.”
“Is it foolish?” I asked. “I don’t even know if I trust him, but he’ll be the best fighter left, the only one capable of taking you from here and keeping you safe until this is truly over.” I looked at her, my brow furrowing from my own reluctance and unease with the idea. “Tell me you’re uncomfortable with it. Tell me you don’t trust him, and I’ll put it from my mind.” I shook my head in disbelief, and then sighed as I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my head back against the wall, murmuring, “Gods, what am I thinking?”
My mother set a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You’re thinking you’ve so little faith in Hazlitt, that us staying in the comfort of these caves is a greater risk than leaving here with Silas.”
“But is it?” I asked on a stressed breath. “Or am I being paranoid?”
“You’ve never been one to take chances,” my mother said. “Especially where Nilson and I were concerned.”
“And what do you think?” I asked.
“I think,” she said, pausing for a long moment to consider it. “I think that Silas failed you last winter, and that he hurt you in ways you may never forget. But I also think there’s a part of you that remembers a time before he failed, and that knows he’s always done what he could to help you care for Nilson and me.”
That’s what was so hard about this. I’d said I wouldn’t let Silas free again, and I wasn’t even close to being ready to forgive him for everything he’d done—just the very thought of him caused a severe pain in my chest. Nor did I want him mistaking what little faith I had for forgiveness. But I did have some faith. If in nothing else, I had faith in his abilities to protect them, and in his guilt being severe enough that he’d do everything he could not to fail at this. Perhaps that was enough.
“You’d go with him?” I asked. “If he agreed.”
She nodded. “I would.”
That was it then. “Thank you,” I said, leaning enough to kiss her cheek. I gave the best smile I could and told her, “Keep enjoying yourself. I do love to see you all so happy.”
She wrapped her arms around me, giving me a long, tight hug. “It’s been a weight off my heart to see you happy too.”
“I’ll return shortly,” I said when she let me go, and at her nod of consent, I started for the exit of the dining cavern. I only got a short distance before a familiar hand grabbed mine, and I turned to meet Ava’s gaze. “I’m going to see Silas,” I explained. “You haven’t got to come.”
Her eyes fell as she considered where I was going, and whether or not she wanted to accompany me. “I do have to.”
Chapter 21
Ava and I headed away from the festivities and out to the halls, through the caves and down the stairs to the dungeon. I dismissed the two guards just inside the door, and closed it behind us after we entered. Silas rose from his cot at the noise to see who was visiting him, but the very moment he saw Ava, he came forward and dropped to one knee.
“Princess,” he said, bowing his head.
In the days since our first encounter, having got some space from him, my rage had cooled, but the very fact of his acknowledging Ava and speaking to her made me painfully tense. She’d been hurt so greatly as a result of his actions that it was a wonder to me why she even wanted to come. However, she had wanted to, and it wasn’t my place to forbid their interaction.
“Rise,” Ava said, but her voice was hollow and quiet and her heartbeat had sped up, and a part of me wondered if she was regretting this. “I’m not a princess anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” he offered as he rose to his feet. “I had thought you’d take the throne as Hazlitt’s successor should the rebels win this war.” He’d been given civilian clothes to wear instead of his soldier’s garb, and his face looked better than it had the last time I’d seen him. It was no longer swollen and the bruises were fading, though he still hadn’t accepted magic to heal the deep cuts.
Ava looked sideways at me, motioning briefly toward the cell as she asked, “May I?” Though I knew Silas posed no threat to her, and knew he had no remaining desire to harm her regardless of whether or not he could, I couldn’t help it that my jaw clenched. Still, I gave a stiff nod. “All I’ve ever wanted, Silas,” Ava said, taking a few hesitant steps toward him, “was to be free of Hazlitt.”
She didn’t say how that day six months ago had made it impossible for her to be free of him, or what she’d lost because of it. She didn’t say that Hazlitt wasn’t her true father, or how he’d filled her life with torment. It seemed, however, that Silas realized some of the pain that she’d been through, because his eyes dropped guiltily.
“I apologize, Avarona,” he said, lifting his repentant gaze to hers, “with my deepest sincerity, for the part I’ve played in any of your suffering.”
“You’ve never been so great a force in my circumstances,” she replied, with some hint of uncalculated warmth in the hollow of her voice.
“Merely a bystander with imprudent allegiance,” Silas muttered. “I became a knight to fight for my kingdom, and all I succeeded in doing was failing my kingdom’s people. I failed my princess, and my queen.”
At mention of the queen, I could sense a falter in Ava’s heart, and there was a visible slump in her shoulders. “Do you know why I came?” she asked in an emotional whisper, seeming reluctant to linger on it. Silas shook his head. “While you’ve played a far more active role in Kiena’s suffering, and though I felt Albus’s loss dearly, you’re part of the reason I’m standing here.” Ava paused, and Silas’s eyes shot to me, as though expecting me to show some reaction at the mention of my suffering, or of Albus. Though I felt the agony in my chest, I kept it off my face.
“I’d resigned myself to death,” she continued, “and had you not come here when you did, Kiena wouldn’t have reached me on time. I’d have died in my prison, and I’d never have been free of Hazlitt. I’d have remained his captive even in death.” She paused to take in a deep breath, gathering the composure to finish. “I came for closure, Silas. To tell you that whatever obligations you may have felt toward me are cleared, and any lingering resentment I have for you is on account of feeling Kiena’s pain as my own.”