The Rose and the Thorn (Riyria #2)

“So what was the fight about this time?” Grisham asked.

His fellow defender of the front gate was a grizzled veteran who had always frightened Reuben. He had a gravelly voice, unruly eyebrows, and stubble perpetually covering his chin. Reuben found it a mystery that he had never known the man to shave, but neither had he grown a beard. “What fight?” Reuben was surprised Grisham spoke to him. He rarely did, but perhaps boredom affected everyone.

“Between you and your dad, this morning. I heard you hit the door again. Woke me up.”

“Sorry.” Reuben left it at that, thinking Grisham just wanted to complain.

“Well? What was it about?”

Reuben looked at the old soldier, confused. Does he really want to know? Maybe putting the uniform on changed his status with more than just dungeon-trapped girls. “He didn’t like me being with the prince and his friends.”

“Oh, yeah. I heard about that. You’re lucky you got back when you did. They were about to get a patrol together to go out looking. If that had happened, you would have had more than just your father to answer to.”

“What exactly was I supposed to do? When a prince asks you to ride with him, you can’t really say no.”

“I don’t care what you did or why. I just wondered why Richard was bouncing your head against the door.”

“He had been drinking,” Reuben added, not knowing why. His father had beaten him plenty of times sober, and Grisham knew it.

The older guard looked out across the bridge at the line of carriages all still burning their lamps, then scratched at his stubble. He did that a lot. “He’s not a bad guy, you know—your father. Just hard. World made him that way, makes us all that way eventually. He’s just trying to toughen you up, build some calluses so you don’t bleed to death. Understand what I’m saying? It’s how you survive. The world’s a miserable place, kid. Give it any chance and it will kill you and not always with a blade or a cough. You know, there’s a reason men prefer to die in battle—living can sometimes be worse. You don’t make a tough son by coddling him. You do it by bouncing heads against doors.”

This was the most Grisham had ever said to Reuben, and with him in such a talkative mood, Reuben decided to push his luck. “Did you know my mother?”

“Sure, we all did.” Grisham caught himself and quickly added, “Not like that, though. She wasn’t … you know … like they say. She was a good girl, a nice girl.” He paused, then added, “That’s probably part of it too. He doesn’t want you to be like her.”

“How’s that?”

“Weak.”

“Because she killed herself?”

“It’s like I was saying. Some folks, they don’t have no armor at all. Rose Reuben was that way. You could tell what she was thinking just looking at her. She’d tell you anything—didn’t know what a secret was. If she was unhappy, she cried. If happy, she smiled.”

“And if her heart was broken?”

“You get the idea, I see.”

The castle doors opened and a sliver of light escaped along with two figures. One was wrapped in a blanket. Even at a distance, Reuben recognized his own Rose and his father as they moved quickly across the courtyard to the gate.

“I’m taking her home,” Richard Hilfred said before either had asked anything. He looked at Grisham. “This girl, Rose, overheard two men planning to murder the king. Isn’t that right?”

Rose nodded.

“One of them was Lord Exeter,” Reuben’s father said. “Exeter is looking to kill her. So I need to get her away from him.”

“Exeter?” Grisham said. “A traitor?”

“Afraid so. Obviously I would appreciate it if you forgot you ever saw her and didn’t tell anyone I left the castle.”

Reuben noticed Grisham glance at him with a look that said, Again, are you kidding me?

“You know the sheriffs are patrolling the city streets,” Grisham said. “They’re out looking for her.”

“I’ll go with you,” Reuben volunteered.

“You’ll stay here,” his father snapped. “This is your post.” He grabbed Reuben by the chain of his chest and pushed him against the castle wall. “I got you assigned to this post tonight to keep you safe.” He spoke softly. “So you stay here, understand? You don’t go anywhere. Not in the city and absolutely not in the castle—for any reason. Got it?”

He didn’t understand but nodded just the same.

“Listen…” Richard sighed, letting go of him. “Your mother, she wanted me to take care of you. I did that. I did the best I could and paid that debt. You survived. You’re a man now. I did that, so tomorrow just remember that I got you posted to this gate. Okay?”

Reuben felt like he was missing part of this conversation, like when his father drank. The words that spilled out of his mouth might make sentences, but they didn’t make much sense. He nodded again, pretending to be smarter than he was.

His father reached out and grabbed Rose by the wrist, pulling her away. As she passed through the gate, Rose looked back at him with frightened eyes. He wanted to say something to her, goodbye maybe. Before he could find the words, she was gone.



Rose would have been terrified if it were anyone but Reuben’s father dragging her along. Grim-faced, he pinched her wrist as he jerked her across the moat. The man was nothing like Reuben, and until they reached the gate, she had wondered if he’d lied about his identity.

She had calmed down the moment she saw Reuben again. Just seeing his face made her feel safe. Rose had only known him a little more than a day, but he’d already done more for her than any man ever had. He wasn’t like other men—men were evil. She had come to this conclusion ever since her father had abandoned Rose and her mother. Over the years that followed, she had many more examples that proved the point. But Reuben was different, unexpected—shocking. Finding him was like discovering dogs could talk. He was more than special; he was a miracle. For Rose, Reuben was a bright light and she a moth. During all those hours, alone in the darkness of the cell, he was all she thought about. What did he like? What didn’t he like? Who was the girl he loved? Finding the answer to that last one was a needle in her heart. And yet, she loved him all the more because of it. He was faithful. She couldn’t say the same for any of the men who came to The Hideous Head or the House. And wasn’t there a moment—just a moment—when she sensed something?