Page 22 of The Sun King's Noon

Briony would like it, he was sure. Whether she would accept it was a different matter.

Richard sighed. The day had left him scraped raw. Lyell’s tears. Kaelen’s fury. The certainty that Galdran was plotting something that involved his sister. His mind would not stop buzzing, as if a thousand tiny insects burrowed in his brain.

All of it, however, vanished when Richard peered around Briony’s ajar door. The sconces were still alight, illuminating the walls covered with paintings and the huddled forms in the canopied bed. Elara slept on one end in a sprawl of dark hair and silk nightgown, and Corwin occupied the other end, arms and legs starfished, as he snored. Between them, Briony sat with a sketchbook in her lap, her charcoal busy at work.

A lump welled in Richard’s throat. Could they not remain like this forever? Quiet little creatures, lovely and warm and all in one place.

He stepped inside when Briony glanced up. “I did not mean to startle you.” He shut the door. “May we speak?”

Briony closed her sketchbook and nodded.

Richard climbed onto the bed’s edge and folded his legs opposite her. They sat cross-legged facing each other in the nest of blankets.

He let the necklace dangle from his fist. “I had this made for you.”

Briony’s breath hitched, delight banishing the shadows under her eyes, and she suddenly looked back to her old self. “For me?”

“Of course.”

She snatched the necklace, turning it over so the locket caught the candlelight. “Oh, Brother, it is beautiful!”

Relief made Richard’s shoulders sag. She was speaking to him again. “It opens.”

“It does?” Briony found the clasp and the book unfolded. Nestled inside, the gem glowed amber. “Oh, how lovely! I shall wear it this instant.”

Richard fastened it around her neck. “It is magic. I carry the other gem it answers to. You must never remove it, Briony. Do you understand?”

“Never,” she promised.

Richard smiled. “Good.” His smile faded. “I wished to tell you…I am sorry. For frightening you by committing such slaughter.”

Briony gave him a bemused look. “That did not frighten me!”

Richard blinked. “It did not?”

“No! You had to kill the witches. Otherwise, they would have killed me.” She grinned. “When you punched the last one, andhis face went all—” She made a squishing motion with both hands. “Like in ‘The Gnome that became Jam’ story Lady Agnes let me read.”

Richard stared. He made a mental note to restrict Briony’s access to certain sections of the library and asked, “But why then did you shrink from me afterwards?”

“Because you were awfully mean.” Briony crossed her arms. “You shouted at me, and your voice is deeper than Corwin’s, and when you get angry, it sounds like thunder, and I do not like it.”

Richard swallowed hard. “I see. I should not have done that.”

“No,” Briony sniffed. “You should not. It is hardly fair when I do not yell at you so.”

“Is that why you have been avoiding me since?”

A guarded expression flitted through the girl’s face. She hunched her shoulders, fiddling with her necklace. “N-no. I didn’t want you to ask me questions.”

“Briony.” Richard dragged a hand down his face. “What are you hiding from me?”

Briony shook her head. “I cannot tell.” She lifted her gaze to his, and there was such naked pleading in it that his next demand trailed off. “Please, Brother. Will you understand?”

Richard’s heart wrenched. “I only want to know what is troubling you.”

“Well. I mean, there is a great deal troubling me.” Briony puffed up her cheeks and blew out a shaky exhale. “First and foremost—” She made a broken sound and slumped forward, her forehead landing against his chest. “Why must I be the ugly one?”

“Ugly?” Richard’s eyes widened. “Come now, little one, whatever do you mean?”