The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(6)

“It’s probably time you had your own maid. Until then, you need to learn to do it yourself. I’ll send Caitrin over to teach you. She’s gentle, and she works wonders with a warm comb and touch of oil.”

Vixie scoffed. “As if you need it.”

True. Aerity’s hair lacked the bright curls of Vixie’s. She’d inherited her father’s straight, strawberry blond strands. She often felt left out as the only royal child without the trait. Even their younger brother, Donubhan, had a mop of glorious dark-red waves. At least she shared the same hazel eyes as her siblings and father. Her mother’s were gray and striking against her cabernet curls.

They rounded the corner at the end of the hall and took a set of stone steps that spiraled upward to the south tower. The girls paused before the oak door. It’d been too long since Aerity visited the royal Lashed One, and the woman rarely left her chambers. Mrs. Rathbrook had healed a cut on Aerity’s finger eighteen months ago after her arrow lodged too deeply in a tree’s trunk, and she’d yanked it out in earnest. She hadn’t seen her since.

At the top of the stairs, a tall, older officer named Vest stood at attention before the large door. Officer Vest was a retired navy guard whose sole job now was to watch over Mrs. Rathbrook. He accompanied her everywhere.

“Good morning,” Aerity said. “We’re here to see Mrs. Rathbrook, if she’s willing.”

The officer nodded and rapped twice on the door.

Mrs. Rathbrook opened the door, smiling, a long gray braid lying over her shoulder. “I thought I heard voices. These ears are still good after all. Please, come in, Princesses. Seas alive, how you’ve both grown!” The woman glanced up at the guard, who gave her a nod before closing the door behind them.

The girls entered the dim chambers, breathing in the powdery-scented incense.

“Hello, Mrs. Rathbrook,” Aerity said.

“Yes, hello, Mistress,” Vixie added.

The shorter woman looked them both over, clasping her hands together. “You appear well. Are you in need of healing?”

“No,” Aerity told her. “We’ve come to visit. I hope that’s all right. But if you’re busy—”

“Nonsense!” The woman smiled, seeming delighted at the idea of a visit, and Aerity felt a stab of guilt that she rarely gave the healer a passing thought these days.

Mrs. Rathbrook led them to her seating area of old chairs and offered tea.

“No, thank you. We’ve just come from breakfast.”

“What brings you?” She eyed the princesses with curiosity, resting her frail, wrinkled hands in the brown skirts at her lap. Her nails were trimmed neatly, and Aerity couldn’t help but stare at her nails, which were nearly all purple. She felt no fear, but was awed nonetheless at the knowledge that those hands could kill as easily as they could heal.

Aerity shifted. “I heard this morning of rumors . . . ridiculous rumors. I suppose it just made me wonder how you were faring. I know father’s been keeping you busy with the injured men.”

“Ah, yes.” Mrs. Rathbrook nodded. “I’ve saved a few who made it to me in time, but not all. And some refuse my help, of course.” A shadow cast across her face. “Their poor families. I imagine these rumors you’ve heard are about the Lashed Ones, aye? Folks saying we’re responsible for this beast?”

“I know it’s not possible—” Aerity began.

“Perhaps not, my dear,” Mrs. Rathbrook said in an ominous voice. “But the need to place blame is human nature.”

“But the Lashed are not evil,” Vixie said, sitting forward. “Why are people such idiots? We know your grandson saved father’s life.”

“Vixie!” Aerity gasped with embarrassment and leveled a glare at her sister. Under her breath she ground out, “A bit of tact, please.” Mrs. Rathbrook’s grandson was not something the royal family spoke of. Vixie stared back as if to say, “What?”

But the old woman lifted a hand. “No, dear. I don’t mind. We are safe here.”

“Will you tell us the story?” Vixie asked eagerly.

“Vix…” Aerity hissed. She was regretting allowing her pushy sister to come, but Mrs. Rathbrook only smiled and settled back.

“Really, I don’t mind. As you know, when your grandfather, King Leon reigned, his closest adviser was my son-in-law, General Marsh. The general did not know he’d married a woman with Lashed blood, because my daughter was not Lashed and I was careful to never use my power. My grandson, Sean, grew up with your father. They were best friends from the time they were wee lads.” Mrs. Rathbrook’s damp eyes shone as she remembered the boys. “Your father, a prince at the time, adored running with the royal hounds. He was often scolded for letting them out of their pens to wrestle and play.” She chuckled, remembering.

“Well, in the summer of their eleventh year, one of the dogs was bitten by a rabid raccoon and became ill. The dog attacked your father—had his bloodied leg between its teeth and wouldn’t let go. Sean grabbed hold of the dog without thought, and the animal dropped. It was the first time he’d ever used his powers. Sean didn’t understand what had happened until he saw the marks under his nails. He’d killed the animal with his sheer willpower to save his friend.”

The girls were quiet and still as the woman continued. It wasn’t the first time Aerity had heard the story, but it never ceased to give her chills.