Awake awake you children bold
Take hold of all your books and fold
The corners, they warned us
A storm is coming on
Welly Boots—The Amazing Devil
It's two days after Jacopo's birthday that two riders arrive at the farm, one a soldier and the other far more dangerous. Brianna's wrath is nearly a tangible thing when she spots her father, pale red hair glinting in the wilting sunlight like embers. Julianne does the smart thing and sends her son in the farmhouse, standing up and wiping dirt onto the skirt of her dress.
Dustfinger, who'd been chastising his new marten, looks taken aback at the sight of his daughter on horseback, the color draining from his face. He looks like he's seeing a ghost. And maybe that's exactly what he's seeing. He only caught a glimpse of her in the courtyard and now here she is, a burning creature filled to the brim with fury.
The soldier is off his horse first and helps Brianna dismount as Roxane comes out of the house. Julianne wants to make herself small, to scurry back into the house like a frightened mouse because if those eyes land on her she'll catch fire.
"Why didn't you tell me he was back," Brianna demands, tone raw and hurt. Roxane looks shocked at the outburst, opening and shutting her mouth as she tries to think of an answer.
"I asked her not to," Dustfinger says, saving her. Jink is no longer curled up by his feet, the marten running off to the stable. "I wanted to tell you myself." He'd meant to do it at the festival, he'd told Julianne as much, but he'd been too scared to approach after so long away.
"When were you planning on doing that? When I was still little and crying every night? When Mom's eyes were sore and red from struggling to take care of me and keep the fire-raisers away? Or how about when my sister died? Where were you?" She's yelling now, voice going shrill until all Julianne can think about is Elinore when she'd been yelling at Capricorn. Listen here, fat head, she had said, as a book collector, I know that all of us aren't as sane as we pretend to be, but you're the craziest one of us all!
"Brianna, I—"
"You must have been too busy to return to us when you were starting a new family. I saw that boy at the festival and at the castle again today. The way he breathed fire could only have been taught to him by one person. His coloring is more like Jehan's but who knows? We all know you can't deny Dustin." Behind her, the soldier is doing a good job of pretending that he can't hear anything.
"Brianna," Jehan cries, flying out of the house and right to his sister. He hugs her tightly around her waist and she hugs him back despite the rage simmering in her veins. "Where'd you get that horse?"
"Violante gave it to me after I brought her to see the strolling players outside the castle walls." Julianne had seen them from time to time, doing their best not to look like highborn ladies and failing. Everyone knew Brianna by the red of her hair and they knew Violante by the paw-shaped birthmark on her cheek. She turns her gaze back to her father and he wilts under it. "Where were you?"
"I was…." He trails off, words failing him as he grimaces down at his boots. He sucks in a deep breath and meets her gaze again. "I was being held by Capricorn and Basta in a different land. I wasn't able to get back here until just a week or so ago."
"Yet you had time to get two women pregnant."
"I'm not his son by blood," Farid states, jutting his chin out in the same way that Brianna's doing. "And he and Juli were forced to sleep together or else she would have been given to Basta!" Julianne winces at the reminder, nausea rolling over her.
"Excuse me," she murmurs, rising to her feet. She's off before the others can stop her, striding into the house where her son is waiting. She can't listen to anymore talk of fire-raisers, not if she wants to keep her sanity. Jaime looks up when she comes inside, nodding towards the door.
"What's that all about," he asks.
"Brianna's just found out her father's back. She's not very happy."
"I'd better head out there. That girl could make the Adderhead faint dead away when she really gets going." That's no lie, she'd been downright furious when she found out Dustin was her half-brother and Julianne felt like the scum of the earth by the time Brianna had finished her tirade.
The others come in a while later, drawn and pale as they settle down around what passes as the living room and their bedroom. Dustfinger sits next to her and there's a tense line to his shoulders that she wants to fix, but there's no fixing this. The only person that can settle the matter between him and Brianna is Dustfinger.
"I thought Jink hated coming inside," she says, voice barely heard. He turns to look at her, the marten perched on his shoulder just like…. She presses her lips together to keep them from wobbling, nails biting into the flesh of her palms. The marten cocks its head to the side, just as curious as always.
It seems not even ink and paper could keep Gwin away.
The news of the Prince of Sigh's death spreads through the realm with lightning speed, reaching even their farm by late morning. Barely three days after his grandson's birthday, the little Prince sending for Julianne immediately. She's just gotten dressed when the solider rides up, Garen looking at her from behind his helmet.
"What is it," she asks, pinning her hair in place with her comb. It had been a gift from Firefox, painted to look like a peacock feather. "What's happened?"
"The Prince is dead," Garen tells her in a voice thick with tears. "His grandson is upset and I'm to take you straight to him." She nods and grabs her cloak before leaving the porch.
"I'll be back," she calls to the others over her shoulder. They know the routine by now, she's not allowed to refuse a summons by royalty even if said royal has just turned six. Garen pulls her up behind him in the saddle and takes off at a breakneck pace. "Has news reached the Adderhead yet?"
"I'm sure it has. He'll be anxious to ensure the little Prince sits on the throne." That's all they need, a tyrant ruling both sides of the Wayless Wood. The ride isn't especially long and the market is empty, the horse's hooves clattering loudly in the silence.
Julianne slides off the horse once they're in the inner courtyard, heading into the castle without waiting for the guard to follow her. She knows the way to Jacopo's bedroom by now, knows it just like she used to know the layout of Elinore's house with its bookcases lined up like soldiers and the constellations painted over her bed.
Jacopo is throwing his toys when Julianne walks in, cheeks wet with tears as a wooden duck goes soaring out a window. She watches on for a few minutes until he's tired himself out, huffing and puffing and looking around him at the mess he's made.
"Did that make you feel any better," she asks, keeping her voice soft. He looks up at her with red-rimmed eyes that look sore and swollen. She knows how he must feel, has dealt with enough loss in her short life to remember the keen ache in her chest and the curdled feeling in her belly.
"No," he says and he sounds ready to cry again. "I want my grandfather back!"
"I know you do, little man. Come here." He runs across his playroom and straight into her arms, letting her pick him up so he can bury his face in the crook of her neck. She knows how to handle children, how to hold them and hum until the sadness has transformed into tiredness. "Do you want to lay down?"
"It's not time for my nap yet."
"You didn't answer my question." He pauses as he thinks it over, looking far too serious for a child his age. Eventually his head dips in a nod and she heads to his bedroom proper. The bed is far larger than any Julianne's ever slept in, filled with down feathers and covered in silken sheets.
"Toss me."
"Toss you?"
"Yes, toss me."
"I don't know," she says, teasing. "I might get in trouble for tossing a Prince. I'd hate to be locked away in the dungeons while you found yourself a new minstrel." He giggles, some of the sadness seeping out of him. "Well, if you insist." She doesn't give him more warning than that, tossing him onto the bed and jumping on after him so that he bounces. He's outright laughing now, kicking his bare feet in joy as he smiles up at her. "Was that a good toss or shall we try again?"
"A good toss, Miss Juli! The best!"
"I have been told that I'm a good child-tosser. Perhaps I could make a business out of it. What do you think?"
"Ladies can't own businesses, you know that."
"Hmm, I guess I'll just have to keep tossing you then." His smile softens as they fall into quiet, Jacopo stealing the comb in her hair to study it. It's his favorite and that's the only reason she's kept it this long. Julianne runs her hand over his hair, smoothing it down until he's leaning into her touch. "Would you like a song?"
"The one about goodbyes. Even Grandfather liked that one." She nods, settling in with the little boy snuggled against her, his ear over her heart. He's a warm weight and for a while, if she just closes her eyes, she can pretend she's home again with her little sister resting against her.
"I saw the light fade from the sky, on the wind I heard a sigh. As the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers, I will say this last goodbye. Night is now falling, so ends this day. The road is now calling and I must away over hill and under tree, through lands where never light has shone, by silver streams that run down to the sea. Under cloud, beneath the stars, over snow one winter's morn I turn at last to paths that lead home. And though where the road then takes me, I cannot tell. We came all this way, but now comes the day to bid you farewell.
"Many places I have been, many sorrows I have seen, but I don't regret nor will I forget all who took the road with me. Night is now falling, so ends this day. The road is now calling and I must away over hill and under tree, through lands where never light has shone, by silver streams that run down to the sea.
"To these memories I will hold, with your blessing I will go to turn at last to paths that lead home. And though where the road then takes me, I cannot tell. We came all this way, but now comes the day to bid you farewell. I bid you all a very fond farewell."
Jacopo is nearly asleep now, his breaths slow and even. "Will you stay with me," he asks. "Until I feel better?"
"Of course." He nods and allows himself to drift off, keeping a tight hold on Julianne's dress all the while. They stay like that for nearly two hours, the Prince unmoving apart from his breathing, keeping that tight hold so Julianne can't leave him. When he wakes up, he orders Garen to go and fetch some clothes for Julianne from the farmhouse.
"You're not leaving me," he states firmly. "Not until Grandfather's envoys get here."
"Have you forgotten that I've got a son to look after?"
"Have you forgotten your promise to me? You're staying here and you can see your son later." He wants to hear nothing else and Julianne knows better than to run off back to the farmhouse. He'd only have her dragged back here, a little tyrant in training. If he turns out like the Adderhead, she's going to be really fucking pissed.
The rest of the day is filled with bursts of rage and thrown toys, Jacopo terrorizing the servants and guards. He'd tried to pull Julianne's hair, but she'd smacked his hand and given him her strongest reprimand. When it's finally time for him to go to bed, he clings to her like a limpet, refusing to let her go.
It's another three days before Piper arrives, strutting around like a peacock with his silver nose on display. It's shinier than usual and she wonders if he'd polished it sometime on the way here. She wouldn't put it past him. Dude's about as self-important as Narcissus.
"I bet you had fun getting through the market," she remarks as he and the others dismount in the courtyard. She's sitting on the steps, Jacopo now distracted by the men-at-arms instead of her comb. "It's always packed on Thursday."
"Not particularly," he says in his strained voice. "We ran right through them."
"Through a crowded market where children playing?"
"I gave them ample warning to get out of my way." Julianne rises, ready to fight and with a scathing retort on her tongue, but Garen quickly steps in front of her. He's pale beneath his helm, giving a slight shake of his head. Now isn't the time to start trouble, but she knows it must be brewing.
"I'll take you home, Miss Folchart," Garen says, and grasps her elbow lightly. His horse is saddled and waiting, her clothes stuffed into one of the bags hanging from it. "I'm sure the baby's missin' you." She gives a sharp nod, following him to the gelding.
"Keep your pretty head down from now on, Songbird. I'd hate for you to lose it." She pauses and can hear Garen's muttered curse. She doesn't punch the fake nose off Piper's face, but it's a close thing as she looks at him over her shoulder.
"Did it hurt when you lost your nose, Piper," she asks, voice carrying. "I assure you that losing your nose will feel downright pleasant compared to what I'll cut off of you if I find out my little sister was in the market today." The threat hangs heavy in the air between them, the other soldiers resting their hands on the pommels of their swords while Piper glares at her. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
"Get out of here before I pluck your tongue out and feed it to my master's dogs." Her answering laugh makes him go red in the face, her lack of fear worse than anything she could have said in response. Piper is tall and slim, more like a scarecrow than anything. Julianne shakes her head as Garen helps her up onto the saddle, climbing up behind her and taking control of the reigns.
If he only had a brain, she thinks with a mocking smile.