Page 100 of The Thornwyck Rose

THE NEEDED CALM

THORNWYCK KEEP, MAY 1099

The keep breathed easierin Henry’s long absence. Every morning, Seren would walk in the garden and through the wild grasses outside the castle with her children and Godric. Her fingers slid over the carved wooden petals of the kingcup Erik had given her and whispered a prayer for his safety and return.

She scanned the western road and hoped it would one day reveal Erik bringing Henry’s body back, having been slain in battle, and spare them all their role in her likely execution. But it had been over a year with no word from Henry’s host at war, and the road remained empty.

By mid-morning, the courtyard was alive.

David rode in from the pasture, cloak snapping behind him, along with his steward and his guards, one being Ragnar—a knight now in his own right.

David dismounted with the grace of a growing lord, handed the reins to a stable boy, and walked to her with a seriousness that made him look much older than thirteen, heeled by Ragnar.

“Master Fulk says the accounts from the mill are off again,” David said, falling into step beside Seren. “He thinks someone is pocketinggrain.”

“Then let Fulk’s steward investigate,” Seren said, glancing at both her sons. “And ask him to bring you the findings. You must learn to see where the truth ends and where excuses begin before taking action.”

David nodded, absorbing every lesson. He was growing into his face, though she saw Henry in his jawline in certain lights. It made her pray every night that she would not see Henry in his heart.

She saw Erik in the twenty-one-year-old Ragnar; the sight of him brought back memories of when Erik held the flaps open for her to board the wagon to Thornwyck. But Erik’s eyes had been sorrowful then, and Ragnar’s were full of hope. And she prayed they stayed that way.

They entered the great hall.

Several men stood waiting—tenants with minor disputes, a tradesman requesting permission to travel, a shepherd asking for a judgment regarding lost sheep. Seren settled into Henry’s empty chair—not at the center, never pretending authority she did not claim, but at the side, where a lady’s judgment still carried weight.

David stood at her shoulder. Ragnar with the guards.

Seren listened. Spoke softly. Asked questions Henry would never have cared to ask. When she finished, no one bowed to her out of performance; they bowed because they trusted her fairness.

When the last petitioner left, David whispered, “You make it look easy, Mother.”

Seren slipped her hand into his. “Your father makes it look hard?”

David nodded. “With father, everything is a fight for dominance. Proving his authority with every command. You just suggest, and they do.”

She stood up and placed her hands on his shoulders. He was now taller than she was.

“Invite obedience. If they trust you, if they love you, they will obey.” Seren tilted her head, studying her son. The people loved her. They trusted her, and that love fell on herson. “Be loyal to them, and they will be loyal to you.” Her eyes drifted to Henry’s seat. “Not always, though.”

“Maybe the war will kill him,” David muttered low, following her gaze. “Hasn’t bothered to send word back. For all we know, they marched off the edge of the world.”

Seren patted David’s chest.

“He doesn’t fight in war, my son,” she said, her eyes dropping to the floor. “He will come home alive. Don’t make wishes—only work for what youcanchange. It is easier on the heart and the mind in that way.”

Her brow creased as she lifted her face to his. “Do you remember what I told you when he accused me of being unfaithful with Commander de Montfort and every year since?”

David shifted his weight and averted his eyes. His jaw clenched. He remembered.

“When he kills me,” she began.

“You always say that, but every year it doesn’t happen,” David cut in.

“When it does,” she began again, “what are you to do?”

He remained silent.

“Look at me, please,” Seren asked. It pained her always to speak to David about how she could die, but she had to teach him survival at least until he was lord, and then she had to make sure his heart did not falter into darkness after she was gone.