Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(73)

If not for the courtship and proposal, her story of friendship and heartbreak could be mine.

“But they must’ve married at some point,” I add, urging her to continue.

Enat’s eyes turn watery. “Rozen needed space to pull herself back together. She packed up and left for Padrin to work at the Elementiary. That’s where Saul found her another month later.”

She stabs the needle into the fabric and pauses. Please don’t stop.

My own heart is clenched in compassion for my mother, my curiosity burning through me. “Where was he? Why’d he make her wait?”

“King Leon died a week before Saul was set to leave. His passing was unexpected. Whole country went into mourning. And a panic. In a matter of days, those fool men in the king’s court sent out a proclamation saying that Channelers caused the king’s death and were to be swept from the country. A bounty was offered to any who would turn someone in for witchcraft.”

The Purge Proclamation. The lasting effects provide nightmare fodder to any woman or child who passes the pillory on market day. Seeing battered women trapped in the wooden planks, feet surrounded by a ring of dirt, was awful enough that I never gave further thought to how bad it must’ve been in the beginning. I sit utterly still, not wanting to shatter the picture her words paint of the hysteria that swept through Malam. Neighbors turned on neighbors. Families were left motherless.

The king’s inner court took over for Aodren, a two-year-old when his father passed, and motherless, for she died giving him birth. No one could enter or lawfully leave Malam for two months of mourning. Two months of hunting Channelers.

“Those were dark times.” She sits with a heavy set to her shoulders. “Women were accused, tortured, and hung, while a few lucky ones managed to flee. But eradicating Channelers from Malam wasn’t enough. The inner court closed the borders.”

Hovering on the edge of my seat, I reach out and touch her hand, and she responds with a watery smile and then begins sewing again.

“Millner never talks of it,” she says. “The pain is too much.”

“I heard he was once the captain of the guard.”

Her head bobs as she pierces the wool with her needle. “He was the king’s right-hand man. Did you know they were close friends? When King Leon died, it was like losing a brother to Millner.” A shock, considering the infamous status of enemy he wears now. “Many people thought Millner would act as a spokesman for young Aodren. Step in as king regent, since Aodren was the last of the royal line.”

Defecting to Shaerdan after holding such an elevated station must’ve been a shock to the entire country. The reason Millner has been called the Archtraitor seems clearer now.

“I know he spoke out against the Purge and the border closure,” I tell her. “And he was imprisoned because people listened and rallied against the new laws.”

She snorts. “Aye, they listened, but he wasn’t imprisoned right off. First, guards were sent to his home. They beat him and tied him so he couldn’t move as his wife was tortured before him. Can you imagine that? Seeing the brutalization of your loved one?” The insides of my mouth turn briny as she continues. “The guards dragged Millner outside and then set his house on fire, with his unconscious wife inside and their sleeping babe.” My sharp intake interrupts her. Gods, the man lost his wife and child? His cheery face pops into my head and baffles me. How can he be happy after he’s suffered so much? The ruthlessness of Malam’s inner court staggers me, and yet I’ve seen traces of their cruelty all my life.

“Only after slaying his family did the guards throw him in the dungeon. The next day they put Millner in the pillory, as a cautionary example to those who would defy the laws.” Enat’s mouth twists into a grim smile. “But he escaped.”

No one simply escapes the pillory. He must’ve had help. “My father?”

She shrugs. “I believe so, but Millner will carry that secret to his grave. Saul was tasked with finding Millner. When he went to Shaerdan to hunt Millner down, it was only by luck that your father bumped into Rozen in Padrin and had a chance to explain why he hadn’t come.”

Enat’s stitches are tight and uniform, not a single one different from another despite the gravity of the conversation. If anything, her speed has increased while we talk. She pushes and pulls through the material in mechanical movements.

“What happened after he explained?” I ask.

Her gaze remains fixed to her fingers. “Young, and desperately in love, they married at a church in Padrin that evening and left for Malam the next day.”

Stunned, I forget about the needle and gouge my pointer finger.

“Ouch!” I hold up my wounded digit. The danger of my father’s trek and the passion of his and my mother’s actions ring so untrue to the pragmatic man who raised me. He taught me to value caution and control.

“Your father bribed a friend who was a watchman to help them past the border. Another friend claimed Rozen was a distant cousin and had no Channeler connections. And one more person testified that Rozen had spent summers on his farm and should be considered a countryman of Malam. Those lies were enough for Saul and Rozen to be allowed a quiet life in Brentyn, but not enough to rid her of the Shaerdanian stamp.”

“So, like me, she was an outcast?”

“I can see you’ve taken it in stride.” Enat winks, and my short chuckle clashes against the dark tone of the conversation.