Severin smiled, careful not to betray a hint of worry. If Elle knew he was sending her from danger he would have to load her on Fidele, kicking and screaming. “I have my reasons.”
Elle shook her head. “That isn’t good enough. You place the well being of everyone in this castle before your own. Something is going on.”
“You sound paranoid. Nothing unanticipated is happening, I merely desire for you to be free and safe.”
“Fine, but I would rather leave tomorrow.”
“No, you are leaving today.”
Elle narrowed her eyes and tucked her head like a mule.
“I need you to trust me, Elle. Please, go,” Severin said.
Elle sighed. “Very well, you win. But I will be back,” she warned, tapping Severin on the chest with a finger.
Severin engulfed her hand with his. “I look forward to it.”
Elle blushed faintly and looked sideways. “We leave now?”
“You are leaving now, yes.”
“You’re not coming with?”
“I am unable to, but I have arranged for a guide,” Severin said, turning around as Burke hustled the courier from kitchen hallway.
“I am to return already? But I arrived not even an hour ago,” the courier complained as he wound a new scarf around his face.
“He doesn’t exactly inspire confidence,” Elle said.
“I apologize, the palace does not have as high of expectations as I do when it comes to staffing,” Severin said, leading the way outside.
The sun was out, and while the air was chilly there was no breeze. Oliver stood in the courtyard, holding the reins of Fidele and a spare mount.
The courier bowed to Severin before taking the spare horse from Oliver and mounting up.
“Wait, I’m riding Fidele?” Elle asked as Oliver tugged her pack of money from her and strapped it to Fidele’s saddle.”
“You are. Sit lightly.”
“Don’t you dare. Why am I taking Fidele? Much of the snow has melted,” Elle said, backing out of Severin’s reach.
“Because Rosemerry would not be able to keep up. In a few days I will send him after you,” Severin said.
“No. This doesn’t feel right. You’ll be stranded here if I take Fidele, what if there’s an emergency? You can’t ride any other horse. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Elle,” Severin said, halting her tirade. “Please, go.”
Elle studied Severin, meeting his eyes and facing him down. “Very well.” she said.
Severin opened his arms and Elle walked into them, squeezing Severin in a tight hug. Severin set his chin on top of her head, briefly closing his eyes. Even if she never came back, this was enough. Severin knew Elle cared for him.
“Be careful,” Elle said when he released her.
“Sit lightly,” Severin advised before lifting Elle onto Fidele’s back.
“Emele, Burke, take care. Tell the others I say farewell,” Elle called.
Emele nodded—judging by her lack of objection Burke must have filled her in. It was fortunate she hadn’t told Elle.
The courier saluted Severin. “At your orders, Milord.”
“Return to Noyers and tell my brother that I understand. Watch out for this girl, Elle. See that she gets all the way to the palace,” Severin said.
“Very well, Your Highness,” the courier said before bowing from horseback and starting off.
Elle and Fidele followed after him. At the edge of the courtyard Elle stopped. “Severin,” she shouted. “I’ll be back. I promise!” she said before cuing Fidele into a trot to catch up.
Severin watched her go, staying outside long after she had disappeared. When he finally went inside he felt a great deal more confident, and the knot of worry loosened.
His servants had assembled in the hall—for once without dramatics or sly antics. They were as serious and staunch as they were the day Severin explained the curse to them.
“I have some daunting news,” Severin announced. “Two Rangers intercepted plans for an assassination. My assassination.”
Severin rolled his stiff shoulders, nodding to the soldiers who passed him, marching down the hallway.
“Good morning, Sir,” a soldier said, approaching from the other direction.
Severin glanced at the man. “Good morning, Captain Remon.”
“I have the newest missive from your brother, Sir,” the soldier said, handing over a letter. “A courier arrived minutes ago with it.”
Severin only glanced at the letter, he saw much of what he was expecting—a complaint in Severin’s failure to send a letter with the returning courier the previous day.
“Very good, thank you,” Severin said, briefly skimming the letter before folding it and placing it in his pocket.
“Any additional orders, sir?”
“Not yet. Was the courier taken to the kitchens?”
“He was, Sir.”
“Good. I wish for him to make the return trip today, but he may have two hours to recover,” Severin said, glancing outside.
“I will see that he is informed of your desires, Sir.”
“That is all, Remon. Thank you.”
