112
THEY STAYED IN Osthiza two more weeks. By then most of Sage’s burned skin had grown over, shiny and pink—and itchy as hell. At least she was wearing full clothes again. She still craved the relief of the opiates they’d given her. Twice she’d broken down crying. Alex stayed with her when that happened—never judging, just holding her tightly and whispering that he knew she was strong enough to get through it, telling her over and over until she believed it, too.
Clare avoided her most of the time—so much that for the first two days after Ambassador Gramwell, Colonel Traysden, and Nicholas left for Vinova, Sage had thought she went with them. She’d been afraid to ask, not wanting to admit her friend had left without saying good-bye, but on the third day, Clare appeared in her doorway. Sage was sorting dresses and trying to decide which to take back to Demora. At the sound of Clare clearing her throat, Sage looked up in surprise and dropped her handful of silk. For a half minute they looked at each other awkwardly, then Clare strode in and stopped in front of her.
“I hate you,” she said. “I hate you because you lived and he died. I hate you because he died saving your life. I hate you because you still have Captain Quinn and I have—” Clare choked. All Sage could do was stand there as her friend fought to bring herself under control. “Lani told me to say all that. She said it would make me feel better.”
“Do you feel better?” Sage asked.
Clare shook her head as tears spilled down her cheeks. “I feel worse now because I don’t mean it. I’d miss you just as much as him. More.”
“Clare, I’d do anything to bring him back. If I thought I could go there and dig him out with my bare hands, I would.”
“I know,” said Clare, sniffing and wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“How can you be so forgiving?”
Sage sat on the edge of the bed and shifted her dress around the sensitive skin on her leg. “Because I understand. When Father died, I hated everyone, even those who took care of me.”
“How long did it take for you to get over it?” Clare whispered.
“Years. Sometimes I think I’m still not over it.” She squeezed Clare’s hand. “But it really didn’t get better until I talked about him with friends. You’re way ahead of me.”
*
Banneth threw a banquet for Sage’s last night in Osthiza. Lani had all Sage’s favorite foods prepared and wanted to talk the whole time about Sage and Alex’s wedding plans.
“Lani, it’s still almost a year and a half away.” Sage glanced nervously at Clare, whose grasp of the Casmuni language was good enough to understand what they were talking about.
“I think I will come visit you next summer so we can plan it.” Lani tossed her long black braid over her shoulder.
“You are welcome in Demora anytime, but it gets very cold in the winter.”
“Then I will have to find someone to keep me warm,” said Lani airily. She cast her eyes on Lieutenant Casseck, who was eating at her right hand, completely unaware of what had just been said. Sage nearly choked. Lani shrugged. “I’m in no rush, though. Demoran men can’t marry until they’re twenty-four anyway.”
“That’s only Demoran army officers,” Sage gasped after she swallowed her mouthful.
“Same difference,” Lani said, taking a sip of wine. She caught Casseck’s eye and smiled. He blinked in surprise and smiled back, oblivious.
Banneth leaned closer to Sage and spoke in a low voice. “I suggest you teach that one more than please and thank you before we meet again. Otherwise she will talk him into something he doesn’t understand.”
*
The journey north was uneventful. Banneth accompanied them until they reached the last major town along the Kaz River. From there, they headed north to Vinova, but Ambassador Gramwell wasn’t there, so they rested briefly before pushing to the Jovan Road. Over dinner at an inn one night, they were met with a number of dispatches from Tennegol.
Alex passed out dozens of scrolls to the men with him. Every Norsari received a commendation from the king, and Sage and Clare had ones specially addressed to them. Alex read Sage’s over her shoulder from his seat next to her on the bench while she blushed and nudged him away with her shoulder.
“Not bad for an eighteen-year-old,” he said. “Of course, I had two or three of these by your age.”
“You did not!”
He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “No, I didn’t.”
“What are the rest of the messages about?” she asked.
“Let’s see…” Alex dug through the satchel. “The last two have seals of official orders rather than those fancy ribbons. For me and the Norsari here, and—” Alex broke off as he saw the two silver pins attached to the scroll.
Sage leaned over to look. “Promotion to major, huh? Not bad for someone your age.”
Alex shook his head. “It’s unheard of.” He pulled the pins off and stuffed them in his pocket. “Don’t tell anyone. I can’t even wear them anyway since I don’t have a uniform. They’d look really strange with this.” He gestured to his Casmuni breeches and vest.
“What’s the other one?” Sage asked.
Alex squinted at the writing on the outside of the second scroll. “This one’s yours. Uncle Raymond has plans for you, apparently.”
“Interesting,” Sage said, taking it. She broke the seal, and a smaller, unofficial-looking note with three distinct handwritings fell out. Sage opened it first, finding a personal letter from the queen and the two princesses.
Dearest Sage,
I can never express my gratitude for what you have done in protecting my son from harm. He has told us the story many times, and we all look forward to hearing your more modest account of events, but I suspect that will have to wait. You have more important duties now, which will serve the realm as a whole, but we will miss you all the same. Please remember that if there is anything I can do for you, you need only ask, as I am forever in your debt.
Most Sincerely,
Orianna March Devlin
The other paragraphs scrawled at the bottom were from Rose and Carinthia, begging her to remember them fondly, with a heavy hint from Rose that she was more than willing to visit, should Sage feel lonely. They were all referring to what must be on the official scroll, which Sage now realized she should’ve read first. A knot formed in her stomach as she unrolled a royal proclamation.
Following the permanent retirement of Ambassador Lord Gramwell, Mistress Sage Fowler is hereby requested by His Majesty, King Raymond II, to serve as Ambassador to the Nation of Casmun, effective immediately, representing the crown in matters concerned with opening and establishing trade routes and laws, judging matters of Demoran citizens in Casmun, representing Demoran interests, and maintaining open and clear communication between our nations. For the time being, the post shall reside at the Fortress of Vinova near the boundary of the two lands, and all honors and necessities shall be provided for the office and its duties.
Signed,
H.M. Raymond II
Sage froze with the letter in her hands. The honor and trust of the position were dizzying, but her heart sank, and she looked up with tears in her eyes.
Alex had his mouth scrunched to one side as he read his orders. “Pretty much what I expected. Back to the capital for more recruits and then out for training. He wants to expand the Norsari to a full battalion by next summer. Must be why the promotion.” He handed the orders to Cass and frowned at her expression. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s named me ambassador to Casmun.”
“But that’s wonderful,” Alex said, grabbing the paper to read it himself. His face fell as he read it. “Vinova,” he whispered.
Sage shook her head. “I’m not going with you.”