He looked around, wishing that Master Grey were here to see this moment. Master Grey had not shown his face here again, though, had not been there to answer any of the many questions Devin had for him now. He was off about some unfathomable errand of his own.
Devin set down his tools, hearing the ring of steel against their brackets. He shut the forge down, setting the sword in place on a stand, wanting nothing more than air now that he had completed his task.
He ascended the stair from the cavernous depths of the forge, wondering if he might find a way to visit Lenore. It seemed impossible, though, that the castle guards would simply allow some peasant smith to visit the princess in her rooms, whatever connection he claimed to her brother.
Her brother. Devin’s heart tightened at the thought that Rodry was lost. The news was all around the castle, and he didn’t know how to respond to it. The thought of everything that had happened… why had Master Grey insisted that Devin stay behind when he could have helped?
Devin came up out of the castle’s depths, blinking in the sunlight, trying to get a sense of how long he’d been down there this time, working with a metal that seemed not to respond the way iron or steel might have, that needed magic even to soften it. He looked around at the open square of the courtyard. It seemed so much fuller than it had before, horses hobbled there since there wasn’t enough room in the stables for all of them, soldiers moving back and forth as they carried messages or ran errands. There were courtiers here and there, standing out in the finery of their clothes.
The whole castle felt as though it was caught between states, no one quite knowing what was going on. Where before, everyone had seemed to move around the castle with purpose, about a hundred different tasks that made the place as a whole function, now there were servants standing as if waiting for commands, and soldiers sitting idle, practicing with blades or playing dice.
Devin stretched out his aching muscles, looked up toward the sky to guess at the weather, and his gaze fell on the battlements. There, walking out along them, Devin saw her: Lenore, accompanied by only a single maid!
He looked around for a way to get up there, saw stone steps, and hurried up them. From the top of the wall, he could see out over Royalsport, see the presence of extra soldiers down below, encamped around the castle now that they had returned. On another day, he might have stopped and breathed in the air there, looked down at the hustle and bustle of the city. Instead, he had eyes only for Lenore.
He rushed forward along the battlements, dodging past a guard making the rounds of them. Lenore was just ahead, staring out over the city, her sadness palpable even from here.
“Lenore!” Devin called out.
Her handmaid was turning toward him, moving to block the way.
“Her highness wishes to be alone,” she said, raising a hand to stop him.
“No, it’s all right Orianne,” the princess said. In amongst the sadness that seemed to fill her features, Devin thought that he caught the briefest flash of a smile. Her handmaid stepped back to let Devin pass, but she still gave him a look suggesting that Devin had best not do anything to harm the princess.
Devin moved closer to Lenore. She looked tired, as beautiful as ever, but as if everything she had suffered had drained something out of her, leaving her hollow, empty.
“Devin,” Lenore said, managing a faint smile. “It’s good to see you.”
“I’m glad you’re safe,” Devin said. “I… I heard about Rodry.”
Lenore bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Devin said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It was just… he was good to me.”
“He was like that,” Lenore said, leaning back against the battlements. “He was always so generous. If you were his friend, you were his friend for life. And he was brave, too. I wish he’d been a little less brave. Maybe he’d still be alive.”
“I think, to get you back, he’d do it all over again,” Devin said. “And if he didn’t…”
He stopped himself before he said that he would. There were things he probably wasn’t supposed to say to a princess. Devin wasn’t sure what all of them were, though, and that just made the whole thing more complicated.
“I know,” Lenore said. “Would you… would you sit with me a while? It seems like people have been avoiding me since I got back.”
Devin nodded. “If I’d thought they would let me through, I would have come to your rooms. I’m glad I spotted you out here.”
“I’m glad too,” Lenore said.
They sat together on the edge of the battlements. From here, it was possible to see the whole of the city, and some of the lands beyond, the fields stretching out in gold and green, out toward the forests in the distance.
They sat there, and for the first minute or two, they just sat. Devin wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what someone like him could have to say to a princess, or what to say to Lenore after everything she’d lost. It felt as if all he could do was be there.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute. “I’m not very good at this.”
“You seem to be doing fine so far,” Lenore said. “Most of the people so far have either told me how sorry they are, or gone on with making plans for my wedding. My mother is grieving over my father, Vars is… Vars, Greave is missing. It’s not a time when my family is exactly going to gather around me.”
“If there’s anything you need,” Devin said, “just say it, and I’ll do it.”
Lenore looked surprised by that, and it occurred to Devin that there probably were many things that he could do for her.
“Thank you,” she said. “I think most of the people around here are mostly thinking about what I can still do for them.” She paused for a second or two. “My husband-to-be definitely is.”
“Is everything…” Devin stopped himself. “Sorry, I was about to ask if everything was all right.”
Lenore smiled wanly. “Almost nothing is. You wanted to do something for me? Tell me about how things are going for you. Tell me about something normal.”
“I’m not sure that there’s much that’s normal about it,” Devin said. “I have been spending every day in a forge in the cellar, trying to get metal that refuses to respond to anything but magic to turn into a sword, and I’ve… I’ve finished it, only to just realize that it was going to be either your father or your brother I was due to give it to.”
“Does that mean you’re going to go?” Lenore asked.
Devin shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve finished, but I don’t think Master Grey is finished with me. As for leaving… I don’t want to do that.”
“I wouldn’t want you to either,” Lenore said. “The metal you’re working with responds to magic? So Master Grey is helping you?”
“He…” Devin wasn’t sure what to say, how much to reveal even with someone like Lenore. “There are spells woven all through the forge. He isn’t there anymore though. I’m not sure where he’s gone.”
“Who knows where sorcerers go?” Lenore said. “When we were children, we would have lessons with him sometimes, and it always felt as though, for every one thing he told us, there were another dozen that he didn’t.”
Devin nodded at that, thinking of everything that he’d found in Master Grey’s rooms, the things that he’d found in the man’s journal. Was any of it true? Was he really the one who had the potential to change the world?
Right then, he realized that, for a minute or two, none of it mattered. It was enough that he was here with the princess, enough that, for a few moments, everything seemed to be at peace. They sat there with one another while below, the castle continued to whirl and bustle, and even though they didn’t say anything, it was enough.
“We need to go, your highness,” Orianne said after a while.
Lenore sighed and rose. “I know.” She turned to Devin. “I have enjoyed this.”
“Me too,” Devin said.
“Are you serious about me being able to ask you for anything in the coming days?”
Devin nodded. He knew it was an easy thing to say, but he meant it. And in that moment, he knew what he had to do with the sword. Rodry had intended the sword as a wedding present, so he would see it given to Lenore. It was the least he could do for his former friend.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
King Ravin stood on the deck of his flagship, sunlight shining from his armor, and knew that the world was his to take. It was the feeling that he woke with each morning, and the one that he lay down with each night: the certainty that he was not as other men were, that he, of all of them, was the one able to reach out and have what he wished from the world.
Around him, his soldiers stood in careful ranks, nestled at the heart of a fleet of galleys and cogs, the flagship large and broad sailed, dark wood painted with red shapes that might have been intended to signify the blood of his foes or the fire of a world torn down. He’d had it built, as he’d had all the rest of it built.
“How long until the island will come into sight?” Ravin demanded of the closest sailor.