The Shattered Circle

28. The Beloved's Grief

I couldn't stay in Haven's quarters forever. If nothing else, it was craven to hide in my own home. I had just needed time to get my edge back, my comforting cold. Now with my thoughts stirring towards Hallen's impending visit and the ceremonial changing-over of command for his elite troops, finally back to their strength, I thought I was ready to return to my own quarters. With Erelim's followers caught like rats in a Melody's steel trap of a plan, it would be safe enough to maneuver Shira out of my quarters and into something of her own. That in turn would prompt fewer whispers about why she had been permitted to stay in my rooms for so long without Melody around to shape the palace rumor mill to her will.

Even though I prided myself on keeping only the truly loyal, servants needed something to talk about and it was a point of curiosity. The oversight on my part hadn't been as problematic when Melody was posing as my handmaiden. She had an almost mystical way with rumors, always aware of just who to drop the right tidbits to in order to keep me protected. Now there was a chink in my armor, something I was very aware of when I heard the whispering in the halls.

The attention was mostly focused on Shira, of course, not me. Speak the name of the Beloved even in epithets and it might draw her ire, or so the stories went. The priestess had no such reputation to protect her. The Winter Palace was an insular place, separated from the rest of Sanctum, which gave it perhaps a more clannish feel than it needed. Even the guard recruits were not certain how to handle her as one among their number, and her silence made her even more of a target for the cruel jokes and pranks that are common among soldiers.

Perhaps that was why she treated my quarters so much as a refuge. Whatever anyone's feelings about her, they didn't dare bring them there. I let her have use of the space far more than I liked, busying myself in the armory and library while I prepared for Hallen and this grand, stupid spectacle instead of sequestering myself in my chambers. The problem with being out and about in the Palace meant visitors and staff alike felt entitled to my attention and there were only so many that I could menace away.

Sometimes, however, not even the armory was safe.

Near midday, the training rooms were always busy, so I knew something was amiss as soon as I rounded the corner with Vex to see an almost deserted hall leading to their doors. The regular guards were present, but no one else. "It seems the mice have all scurried away, my lady." My second spoke casually, but she had one hand on the hilt of her sword. "Shouldn't there be servants at least dusting in anticipation of Hallen?"

"Perhaps you can hound them down and remind them of their obligation," I said, less concerned. An assassin would have been a breath of fresh air compared to more planning. It was rare for me to have an actual guest, but Hallen's second had insisted his master had things to discuss with me privately, so there would be a dinner the night before the restoration of his men to his command. With Melody gone, Haven had stepped in, but he had to be reminded of seating configurations, particularly since the leeches would be in attendance at His Majesty's request. It was meant to be a show of unity, of mended fences, but I doubted that Varys had forgotten why he'd almost roasted in the sun to death.

I opened the door to the training room. There, fresh contusions and tears on her face, was Shira. She held the armor I had requested Ember make as rusted fragments, clearly damaged by a spell. In that moment, the prophecy no longer mattered, nor did my efforts at avoiding her. I strode across the distance between us with purpose, taking a knee beside her. "Shira, who did this?"

She shook her head, gripping the destroyed armor more tightly.

"Shall I speak to the guard, my lady?" Vex asked sweetly, already anticipating whatever misery I was going to inflict on those responsible. "They would know who left the room."