From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [214]
Achan grinned, but before he could respond to Shung or Gren, Noam stepped into the open.
“Achan.” Noam glanced at the guards and lowered his gaze. “I mean, Your Highness.”
“No, Noam. None of that from you.” Achan pulled his old friend into a rough embrace and clapped him on the back. “How are you!”
“Fine, thanks. Unreal how the gods deceived us all. No wonder you were such a fighter.”
“I see you have put the stables back together.”
“Oh, Noam has done everything,” Gren said. “There were a few stable boys who used to work here, but none knew as much about the animals as Noam.”
“I figured as much,” Achan said. “Which is why I came to ask you to be Lord High Master of the Horse.”
“Master of what?”
“Lord High Master of the Horse. It is an official position. Means the management of the Royal Stables and all matters of horses and hounds fall to you. Breeding, care, feeding, things like that. What say you?”
“You think me worthy?”
“Are you not doing the job already?”
“Well, I suppose…”
“It is settled then, unless you wish to return to Sitna.”
“No!” Noam said. “I wish to stay here.”
“Very well then, Master of the Horse. Welcome home.”
Noam grinned, then laughed, then hugged Gren and swung her around.
“Achan, that’s wonderful!” Gren said. “But what of me?”
“You are welcome to live here, Gren.”
“What about my parents?”
“You think they would like to move here?”
Her eyebrows sank. “I don’t know.” She reached out and touched the edge of Lady Averella’s sleeve that was tied to Achan’s arm. “I heard Duchess Amal absolved you from your agreement with Lady Averella.”
“Aye, she did,” Achan winked, “though I think she and I shall keep the bargain anyway.”
Gren’s face paled. An awkward silence descended. Noam walked over to Shung and the guards and struck up a conversation.
“You really love her?” Gren asked Achan.
The thought of Sparrow made Achan smile. “Aye.”
Gren did not smile. “Well, I think she’s a fool for treating you the way she did.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “She had her reasons.”
She poked a finger against his chest. “Don’t you defend her. She was being a fool.”
He laughed and snagged her wrist to deflect any more knife-like jabs. “Fine. She was a fool.”
Gren sighed and pulled out of his grip. “I like her too.” She stepped back and leaned against the first pigpen. “She’s so smart.”
Achan huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Too smart sometimes.”
“I thought maybe you’d still want me.”
Achan’s face tingled as the blood drained away. “Oh, Gren. We talked about this back in Carmine.”
“You always wanted to marry me, and now that you are king, you can do anything you want, right?”
“Within reason.”
“And what is unreasonable about marrying the woman you love?”
“Gren.”
“You don’t love me anymore.”
The words struck Achan’s chest like a fist. But he had to be honest. “I’m sorry.”
Her bottom lip trembled.
“Nor do you love me in that way, Gren, so do not play games.” Achan looked over her black dress again. “Who do you truly mourn in this gown? Riga or Bran Rennan?”
A rosy flush crept over Gren’s cheeks, but she whispered a laugh. “Is it not ironic, Achan, that you’ll marry Bran’s former love and that I might have married…” She sucked in a long and quivery breath. “Was there any chance he’d have married me? I was certain he cared. I could see it in his eyes.”
Achan took her hand in his. “He did care, Gren.”
She clapped her free hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed. This did not stop the tears from leaking past her eyelids and trickling down her cheeks. Her other hand settled protectively over her unborn child.
Achan took her into his arms and held her tightly. She sobbed and trembled, and he stroked her hair with one hand and rubbed her back with the other.
Gren pulled away and met his eyes, her cheeks wet and glossy. “What will become of me? You were always my hero. You always stepped in to save me.”
“I cannot save you anymore, Gren. No man can save you always. We’re too flawed.”
“You’re going to tell me that your Arman god can?”
Achan shrugged. “Not if you