Chapter 39: The Lady and Liam

Chapter 39: The Lady and Liam

They went deeper into the royals floor than Aaron had ever been. His room was on the periphery; without even noticing it, hed clung to the outsides of the space. Rose, Connor, Orin, the kingthey all came to him, or sent for him, when they found him useful. Hed never gone seeking them. It wasnt his place.

The Lady seemed to feel no such compunctions. She navigated the hallways with familiarity. The guards spoke quiet greetings to her as they passed, and she returned them. Aaron tucked himself into her shadow, and tried to remind himself that he looked like a dukes son; he looked like he belonged here. Lochlann would have scoffed at the thought that he might really be a noble. Somehow, just imagining the look of utter disbelief on the second lieutenants face made him let out a breath, and walk with a little more certainty. At least there was one man in this castle who understood what Aaron was, even if it wasnt Aaron himself.

They passed by the door to the barracks tower. The one he had first entered this wing by, on the night the assassins tried their hand. He recognized Roses doors, next, and wondered if she was inside. From that point on, everything was new to him. He had a moment to think that the door they approached was larger than the others. Then the Lady was announcing herself to the guard outside.

Ive brought His Majestys medicine. Is he awake?

Yes, Lady, the man replied. Youre just in time. Hes sent for Duke Sung, but he hasnt arrived yet. Youve a few minutes.

The guard did not announce them. He simply held the door open, as the expected visitors that they apparently were. He had perhaps a mild curiosity for Aarons presence, but it did not extend to action. Aaron sensed this to be a nightly thing. Perhaps other visitors occasionally bobbed in the Ladys wake, just as he did.

His Majesty was not in the first room they came to: that was a sitting room, large enough to host a party. The mans Death waited on one of the couches, tracing light fingers down the head of the white cat next to him. Mrs. White sat with her paws tucked under her chest and her eyes closed. The Lady spoke a quiet greeting to her. The cat flicked an ear in reply. Aaron nodded respectfully. The Death returned the gesture.

The second room was a more intimate affair, with a discreet liquor cabinet of dark wood set against one wall, and a matching bar counter in front of it. Bookshelves lined the other three walls, with room left in them only for doors. If he had time, he thought he could have read one or two of the titles. Four overstuffed chairs claimed the rest of the space. His Majesty was not in there, either.

They found him in his own bedroom, resting on top of the sheets with his boots on and his hands clasped over his stomach.

Good evening, Liam, said the Lady.

Addie, he greeted her, with a lazy smile. Then his eyes caught on Aaron. He quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Youll forgive me, she said. I did not want to be alone tonight. I can send him away, if you like.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om

No, he said. Hes a right to stay. Markus, if you would be so kind as to help me up?

The king looked frailer than he had in the council chambers this morning. Thinner. But then, hed set aside his kingly layers; his coat was draped over the back of a chair, his vest undone. In pants and a simple white shirt, he looked like just a man. A pale, thin man, with attentive green eyes. Aaron helped him to stand. He offered his arm and his shoulder, and helped His Majesty to a chair in the other room.

Top shelf, the king said. Fourth bottle from the left. Pour one for yourself, if you like. Addie?

The Lady shook her head.

Aaron found the bottle. He could not read the labelthe same artist who had drawn a firebird rising from flames had taken great liberties with the letters, putting in far too many curlicues for his eyes to untangle. He thought the first letter was an R, but it may have been a B just as easily. The bottle was clear, and the liquid inside like burnt gold. He found the glasses in a lower cabinet, and poured. Two cups. Aaron wasnt much of a drinker, but when a king offered from his own cabinet, a fellow would be a fool to turn him down.

They met Duke Sung coming down the hall, his white-hilted sword in residence on his hip. Would the mere horn of a unicorn be enough to cure the king? It was a stupid, fleeting thoughtof course it wouldnt be. The Lady would have thought of it already.

She said nothing to the duke; he said nothing to her, or to the boy he thought his son.

She walked Aaron back to his rooms. There she paused a moment; then, leaning forward, she planted a chaste kiss upon his cheek.

Thank you, Aaron. Good night.

Good night.

He pressed a hand over the spot when she had gone, watching the empty hall. The Lady. The Lady Addie? A nickname, for certain; it was too regular a thing for her. It occurred to him, for the first time, that he could simply ask who she was: he had friends here. Friends who might not know exactly what he was, but who trusted him anyway. He walked back the way they had just come, towards Roses rooms. The closer he came to her door, the slower his feet seemed to move, until he had stopped completely. There was another door at his side; the one that led down the tower stairs, into the barracks.

Right, then: he would ask Lochlann. It was a strange thing, having friends in the castle he trusted. Best to take it slow at first.

The second lieutenant opened his door on the third knock. His expression went from open and interested to utterly resigned in a single heartwarming instant. Aaron raised his hand, and waved.

What do you want?

Whats the Ladys name? he asked. And, when the lieutenant simply stared at him, he repeated himself. The Ladys name? Her full name.

If I answer, will you leave? the good lieutenant asked.

A fairer bargain a fey could not make, Aaron agreed.

Adelaide

They heard it at the same time. He suspected the whole city did. Farther, even. A voice such as that could carry over distances, and never lose its meaning. There was only one at first. A single mournful wail; a long keening note that rose and fell with no need for mortal breath. Then, rising to join it, a chorus. The sounds came from everywhere, and from nowhere.

In the Fair Fields, the banshees were weeping.

Someone in the bell tower realized what had happened, and a single bell tolled over the city.

King Liam OShea was dead.