From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [40]
“A lady should consider a man’s goodness before she agrees to be courted, not married,” Vrell said. “She should know him very well by that point.”
“And you do not dispute Prince Achan’s goodness?”
“Every man—and woman, for that matter—is capable of doing good or evil. So, yes, dear sister, Prince Achan is a good, kind man. But he does not follow Arman as you and I do. So when temptation comes to him—and it will—how will he choose good? That is my question of Prince Achan. He snuck to the battlefield this morning. His idea of doing good was following his own pride. Even Mother agrees with that. Until he conquers what hinders—”
“And how did you come to be on the battlefield, dear sister? You dare judge his pride when your pride is equal to his? You claim to follow Arman, but still you go your own way. None of us are perfect, Vrella. Least of all you.”
“But I am trying to follow Arman.”
“You follow your own will first. Arman’s will second. And if Prince Achan hadn’t done what he did today, I would be lost to Esek. Arman used Prince Achan’s pride to put him in my path. It is not too late for Arman to make good of your bad choices either.”
The words shocked as much as a slap to the face. Heat welled up inside, for Vrell recognized the truth in Gypsum’s words, though she could not admit it aloud. “You know not what you…” Her voice hitched. “There is more to it than—”
“I am saying, sister, that I will marry Prince Achan should you not. And I will be happy to do it. So you had best figure out what you really want before it is too late.”
Again Vrell led Kopay through the clusters of horses and toward the exit of what remained of the stables. The fire had cost her a day. And the last time she had looked in on Bran, he and Jax’s men were already nearing the Sideros Forest.
A girl in a black dress stepped out from the shadows as Vrell approached the brand new plank doors.
Gren Fenny again. This time she clutched a burlap sack in her hands, wringing the fabric as if she might squeeze water from it. The sack twisted gently, full of something that made it bulge like a teardrop.
“Whoa, boy.” Vrell and Kopay stopped. “Good morning, Gren. You are up early. Again.”
Gren fidgeted with her bag. “I wanted to thank you for taking me to see Achan yesterday.”
“You are welcome.” Vrell eyed Gren’s sack. “I never asked why you were in the stables yesterday. You work in the kitchens, do you not?”
Gren’s face flushed. “I was going to steal a horse.”
For some reason, the very idea tickled Vrell. She giggled in spite of the seriousness of Gren’s confession. “You do not strike me as a horse thief.”
“I can’t stay here. The people of Carmine hate me.”
Vrell’s mind filled in what Gren had not said, what she knew had happened this past summer when Gren had been attacked. “They blame you for my broken betrothal. I thought Master Rennan had made an announcement.”
Gren approached until she stood right before Vrell. “He did, but some think it’s a lie, that your lady mother forced him to say it. And now that he’s gone, I won’t stay with no one to watch over me.”
Vrell stroked Kopay’s neck. “Master Rennan cares for your welfare. I am sure he would not have left you here had he believed it dangerous.”
“He didn’t say nothing like that. He said he’d be back after the war. But I don’t know what that means.”
“That he did not want to risk your heart. To ask for your hand or to marry you before he left would be irresponsible.”
“I don’t understand you nobles and all your rules. All I know is he’s gone. What if his master bids he stay in Armonguard after the war? If I’m not there, he may forget me. But if I follow him, I’d be there when the war’s over.”
“I know that you care for Master Rennan, but you will cause him nothing but trouble to follow him now. How can he assist his king if he is worried about you?” Vrell winced at how much her words mirrored Sir Rigil’s. But that was different. Vrell was not chasing after a man. She was running from one.
Gren gazed up at Kopay. “Oh, I don’t wish to worry him. Only to be