From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [174]
He realized with a start that everyone in the great hall was staring at him. The intensity of every set of eyes and the deceit of his own advisors filled him with heat. He tried to contain his anger, but his limbs turned to fire. He ascended the stairs to get a good view of Sir Caleb. “What about you, Sir Caleb? Did you know this secret, as well?”
“I did not, Your Highness.” Then Sir Caleb’s stony expression broke into an incredulous smile. “But it does explain a few things.”
Achan scanned the tables. Where was Sir Gavin? Right. He had gone down to talk with the Mârad general. Achan paced toward Sir Eagan. “Does Sir Gavin know?”
“Aye.”
“Yet I suppose it was not his secret to tell either, was it?”
“Nay, it was not.”
Achan walked back to the top of the stairs and looked down on Sparrow, who remained kneeling. Beyond her, scattered on the steps below, stood Sir Jax, Sir Rigil, a handful of Bodwin’s guards, Gren… His heart softened to see Gren’s teary face. Noam! He smiled at his old friend, who smiled in return. Bran Rennan, who looked completely exhausted.
Achan asked softly, “Did you know of this, Master Rennan?”
Bran’s voice was almost a whisper. “I did.”
Achan struggled to comprehend the meaning. His brain hurt, but he forced himself to look back over his entire past year, seeing it all in a new light. Lady Averella had disguised herself as the boy stray Vrell Sparrow in order to avoid marriage to Esek—so she could return home and marry her true love: Bran.
“Bran… I—I never knew! I—” Achan swayed on the steps and grasped the bannister to keep from toppling over.
Eben’s breath! After all his prideful tirades against Bran for his mistreatment of Gren, and all along it had been Achan who had betrayed Bran. Fire burned within his chest. He sucked short breaths through his nostrils, hoping he did not lose control and fall into a rage. Or tears like a child. This was not his fault! He had not known who she was. She had kept it from him.
He closed his eyes. Arman, give me wisdom.
But he did not pause long enough to listen for any divine reply. He looked down on Sparrow again. It all came back to her. Despite his desire to hate her, a joy arose in him at seeing her again. Yet she had made him feel a remorse that she deserved more than anyone. He managed two words.
“Explain yourself.”
They sounded cold and cruel and Esek-like, but he didn’t care. He knew he was not the villain here. He wanted only to hear her speak.
Sparrow—his mind would not yet let him think of her by any other name—sat back on her heels. Her eyes, wide and green like Duchess Amal’s, stared into his. “I went into hiding when Esek demanded to marry me. Macoun Hadar sensed my skill and sent the Kingsguard knights to fetch me. Jax and Khai. I was afraid to reveal my identity, so I kept up my charade, hoping Mother would know someone in Mahanaim who might assist me. Then you entered the story. And you know the rest. I was swept along with you on an adventure into Darkness.”
Sparrow’s emotional tone chipped at his anger, bored holes through it, piercing his heart from all sides. He wanted to run and take her into his arms and marry her on the spot. Where was Toros Ianjo? And yet, his heart was tentative, as if she might really be a black knight’s illusion that would turn into a flock of gowzals any second and tear him to pieces. He steeled himself against her charms. “Why didn’t you give me your true name? At least in Mitspah?”
Sparrow’s eyes filled with tears. “Achan, please. Could we speak of this in private?”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Answer my question.”
She blinked, and a stream of tears ran down one cheek.
He towered over her like a marble statue, cold, hard, and paralyzed by his mixed emotions. He couldn’t decide whether to comfort her or throw her in prison.
She sniffled. “I wanted to confess a hundred times, but I was afraid.”
Her voice was a raspy whisper, yet Achan had no doubt that every ear could hear in the great hall. He felt a twinge of regret for forcing her