“But he wasn’t noble,” she interrupted. “Well, listen—”
“Wait.” Her brother held up a hand. “Let me finish. I don’t care if he was noble or not. Truth is he was nobler than just about anyone I can think of, except maybe that Breckton fellow. How Hilfred managed to stand by you every day, while not saying anything—that was real chivalry. He wasn’t a knight, but he’s the only one I ever saw who acted like one. No, it’s not because he wasn’t noble-born, and it’s not because he wasn’t a great guy. I would have loved to have him as a brother.”
“What, then?” she asked, this time confused.
Alric looked at her, and in his eyes was the same expression she had seen when he had found her in the dark of the imperial prison.
“You didn’t love him,” he said simply.
The words shocked her. She did not say anything. She could not say anything.
“I don’t think there was anyone in Essendon Castle who didn’t know how Hilfred felt. Why didn’t you?” he asked.
She could not help it. She started crying.
“Arista, I’m sorry. I just…”
She shook her head, trying to get enough air into her lungs to speak. “No—you’re right—you’re right.” She could not keep her lips from quivering. “But I would have married him just the same. I would have made him happy.”
Alric reached out and pulled her close. She buried her head into the thick folds of his robe and squeezed. They did not say anything for a long while and then Arista sat up and wiped her face.
She took a breath. “So when did you get so romantic, anyway? Since when does love have anything to do with marriage? You don’t love any of the girls you spend your time with.”
“And that’s why I’m not married.”
“Really?”
“Surprised? I guess I just remember Mom and Dad, you know?”
Arista narrowed her eyes at him. “He married Mother because she was Ethelred’s niece and he needed the leverage with Warric to combat the trade war with Chadwick and Glouston.”
“Maybe at the start, but they grew to love each other. Father used to tell me that wherever he was, if Mom was there, it was home. I always remembered that. I’ve never found anyone who made me feel that way. Have you?”
She hesitated. For a moment she considered telling him the truth, then just shook her head.
They sat again in silence; then finally Alric rose. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No, but thank you. It means a lot to know that you care.”
He started to leave, and as he reached the door, she said, “Alric?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember when you and Mauvin were planning on going to Percepliquis?”
“Oh yeah, believe me, I think about that a lot these days. What I wouldn’t give to be able to—”
“Do you know where it is?”
“Percepliquis? No. No one does. Mauvin and I were just hoping we’d be the ones to stumble on it. Typical kid stuff, like slaying a dragon or winning the Wintertide games. It sure would have been fun to look, though. Instead, I guess I have to go home and look for a bride. She’ll make me wear shoes at dinner—I know she will.”
Alric left, closing the door softly behind him and leaving her in the blue glow of the robe. She lay back down with her eyes open, studying the stone and mortar above her bed. She saw where the artisan had scraped his trowel, leaving an impression frozen in time. The light of the robe shifted with her breaths, creating the illusion of movement and giving her the sensation of being underwater, as if the ceiling were the lighted surface of a winter pond. It felt like she was drowning, trapped beneath a thick slab of solid blue ice.
She closed her eyes. It did not help.
Soup, she thought—warm, tasty, comforting soup. Perhaps it was not such a bad idea after all. Maybe someone would be in the kitchen. She had no idea what time it was. It was dark, but it was also winter. Still, it had to be early, since there had been no scuttling of castle servants past her door. It did not matter. She would not fall back to sleep now, so she might as well get up. If no one was awake, she might manage on her own.