From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [99]
Dearest, I do believe you kept the truth from the prince too long, but you have grown in many ways since you left for Walden’s Watch. I am very proud of you.
But I have forgotten all of this growth. Gren tells me I am a healer. Master Cham tells me he loves none but me, that he is to be king and wishes me to be his queen, yet he knows me only as a stray named Vrell Sparrow. You tell me my father is not Duke Amal but a prisoner from Ice Island. And no one is here to tell me how I feel about any of this, so I must discover it all again, if such is even possible.
It will take time, my dear, but most people’s memories return eventually. Come home, and I will help you.
I would like to, but it seems I promised to take Gren to Armonguard. She hopes to be there for Master Rennan once the war is over. She thinks they are to be… married.
Really, Averella. How do you expect to make such a journey? Especially now that Darkness has spread so far? Besides, Master Rennan is imprisoned in Allowntown with Sir Rigil and Sir Jax. You told me yourself.
I did? Averella must not have mentioned this to Gren. I need time to think this over. I will let you know when I have determined my next course of action.
My thoughts and prayers are with you, dearest.
Averella did want to go home, but she doubted being there would help her memory return. She must have had good reason for going to Armonguard, no matter how awkward the idea of Gren and Bran being together made her feel. She could not trust her emotions for Bran. They were based on a past reality, apparently. Mother had confirmed it. But if Bran were imprisoned in Allowntown, going to Armonguard would not help him.
Averella bit her bottom lip. She needed to look through his eyes and see for herself where he was.
How did she know to do such a thing? Yet, instinctually, she closed her eyes and concentrated on Bran’s face. A line of men appeared before her. Dozens, perhaps hundreds. Distant torchlight made them look like an army of shadows. Chains rattled and clanked.
She gasped in a breath of rancid air. This was a prisoner escort. Such parties had come through Carmine many times during her life, transporting men to Ice Island.
Bran’s feelings pressed in on her. Fatigue. The tightness of shackles on his wrists and ankles. Soreness in his feet. Master Rennan. This is Lady Averella. Can you hear me?
Bran’s familiar voice squeezed her chest. I can, my lady. Are you well?
She forced her words to sound calm. Your well-being is the concern at the moment. Where are you being taken?
They are moving us to Mahanaim, though it seems a waste. Please tell me you are still in Carmine?
I wish I could, Master Rennan. I am, instead, in a cottage outside Sitna.
Averella could feel annoyance rush through Bran’s body. I should have known you would refuse reason.
There is no cause to be rude, Master Rennan. Much has happened in the past days.
I have time, should you wish to tell the tale, my lady, but know in advance I will speak my mind.
Speak his mind? Mercy! What an icy attitude he held toward her already. Very well. Days ago, I lost my memory whilst in the Veil. Mother tells me horrors of how I have spent this past year. But none have distressed me as much as what a peasant woman named Gren has said. Master Rennan, please tell me it is false. Tell me we are still in love and that you have not deserted me for this peasant girl.
Heat swirled inside Bran’s chest. Averella, you go too far. I can no longer stomach your manipulation.
How dare you accuse me of manipulation! All I have confessed is truth. Ask my Mother if you do not believe.
I have no method of speaking to your Mother at present.
Well… ask the real Prince Gidon, then. For he is the one who rescued me from the Veil.
I have no method of speaking with the prince, either. I cannot bloodvoice, Averella.
Forgive me, Master Rennan. I did not know that I could bloodvoice until hours ago.
Why is Madam Hoff with you?
The name snagged in Averella’s mind. Madam Hoff?
Gren. The