The Cursed Heir

Chapter Twelve

There was a crowd in the town square. Even many streets removed from the center of the village, Cassie could feel the excitement humming in the air and hear people heading for the source. Nobody had rung the town's bell to call for a meeting, so what was happening?

She shut the door of the dressmaker's with a snap before Leora could hear the noise and go dashing off to get lost. Aldine had sent her on yet another errand—Cassie was beginning to suspect that Aldine was making up items for her to fetch and deliver to keep her away from the dresses. If that were the case, surely Aldine wouldn't notice if she was gone for a few extra minutes...

As she approached the square, the noise did not increase the way she'd expected it to. With so much of the town in one place, there should be an overwhelming hubbub of overlapping voices, but most were focused on listening. Cassie found a huge crowd filling the open area, both men and women gathered around the fountain. She could not see what was at the fountain, and she was too far away to hear. She was stuck behind a wall of boys who were occupied in a futile attempt to see over the heads of the adults. Most of their activity consisted of sporadic jumping, reporting they could see nothing, and shoving at each other when they stepped on their toes.

Determined to find out more, Cassie started squeezing through the tight ring of people, inching closer to the locus. She ended up beside George, still a row behind the front, who glanced over and acknowledged her with a smile before looking back toward the fountain. Now that she was closer, she could hear a single man's voice, droning on about civic duty.

"What's going on?" she whispered to George.

"They're planning another campaign," he muttered back. "King Marius is calling for more soldiers."

The carpenter in front of Cassie shifted for an instant, just long enough for her to see who was standing on the stones of the fountain, reading from a long scroll. Avery—it was Avery! Looking better than ever, in the well-dressed regalia of an army messenger. He was alive!

"Avery!" It was little more than a gasp, and few heard or marked her voice.

She had not killed him.

He was alive, and in Telyre, looking well-fed and unbeaten. Which would change if people knew where they had come from.

George, unfortunately, had not missed the way she had unthinkingly started forward.

"Friend of yours?" he whispered curiously.

Cassie didn't move. "No," she said quietly. What a lie it was. Servant or not, Avery had been her friend. A lifetime ago, it felt like. Seeing him again was shocking, but it also had her reeling with unexpected pangs of nostalgia. She missed him—the only friend she'd had for years, really, besides her sister—terribly. He was the only person who had never judged her for her choices. But if people knew they were connected somehow, questions would be asked, and questions would ruin her. And him.

Cassie squeezed back out of the crowd, hoping people would be too glad of the chance to see the messenger to pay attention to her. Even on the fringes of the town center she could feel the excitement, palpable in the air. Numb to it, Cassie walked in circles down aimless streets, until the noise and interest dissipated. He must be gone, then. Would any men sign up? Would they leave immediately, or would there be a few days to prepare? Where would Avery go next?