Chapter 133

The walk to the village was more difficult than Kit had assumed it would be. She’d been warned to steer clear of the mud, which, with Jate’s help, she managed. What she wasn’t expecting was all of the filth and debris lining the streets. From parts of the castle, one could view the village, at least those houses closest to the southeast side of Wrenbrook. It always looked like a cheerful, relatively clean place to live. Kit had spied children playing in the streets there before, seen birds fluttering about, and even noticed some flowers that rivaled those in her own garden. She’d also visited a few times when she was younger, though she’d taken a carriage then, and now that she was making her way down one of the lanes further into the village itself, away from the castle windows, she remembered her mother always insisted on having the drapes on the windows down saying it was best not to let the people glimpse her in all of her glory when she couldn’t stop to say good day. Now, Kit thought perhaps there were other reasons altogether.

She had a firm grasp on Jate’s arm, particularly when they came to a place in the road in desperate need of repair. It was hard for Kit to understand why the village wasn’t kept up. The people who worked here had family members who served in the guard or worked within the castle themselves. Some of the workers returned here each night, choosing to stay in their family home rather than in the barracks provided within the castle. Why not keep this place clean and the roads navigable?

In front of her, six of the Queen’s Guard led the way. She wasn’t certain why her mother had sent them, but she could hardly protest. She had six of her own guards behind her. Between the twelve of them, and the man whose arm she held, she felt safe, though it surprised her to think there was anyway all of these defenders could possibly be necessary. Despite warnings from the Representatives, she’d always felt safe inside of Wrenbrook’s grounds. But then, she hadn’t even been safe inside of her own chambers the night before, so perhaps she needed to open her eyes a little wider and start to change her perception of the realm.

The Queen’s Guards had the same snarls on their faces as always when they came to a stop near a small hut in the back corner of the village. It was in desperate need of repair, and Kit could only imagine the occupants had likely gotten quite wet during the recent downpours. If she had known the state her own guardsmen’s families were living in, she would’ve brought more than a note and a jewel from her own collection to help. She’d hoped Tem’s wife could keep the jewel as a remembrance of how bravely her husband had fought to defend the princess, but now she assumed it would need to be sold to fix the roof. As far as Kit knew, those who died in duty still received a bit of pay after their death, a benefit for the family, but she’d have to make sure that was actually the case. She was beginning to doubt everything she’d always thought to be true.

A few flat stones stuck out of the mud leading from the road to the door, and Kit was careful to plant her muddy boots in the center of them as she picked her way from one to the next, hoping not to sink into the mire. Jate had to let go of her hand, but he was right behind her, and she knew if she stumbled, he would catch her before she became entrapped in the muck.

Kit finally reached the door and knocked lightly. She could hear crying from within and was aware that Tem’s wife had been notified of his death late last night. The thought of losing someone so precious to her was enough to bring tears to her eyes, and Kit braced herself to face the grieving widow.

It was a girl who opened the door, and by Kit’s best guess, she couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old. She was filthy, her reddish-brown hair in pigtails covered by a handkerchief that might’ve been white at one time but was now an off brown. Her dress didn’t quite reach her knees, and the apron over it had a large rip in the top. She looked up at Kit with blue wells for eyes, brimming over with tears, and her nose was red from wiping at it.

“Good day, little one,” Kit said, finding a friendly smile despite her heartbreaking all over again as she took in the state of her guardsman’s daughter. “May I speak to your mother?”

The girl stared up at her for a long while, clearly stunned at who she was looking at. By the time she started to move away from the door, Kit could hear the sound of footsteps and the creak of floorboards. A gaunt woman with freckles and swollen eyes said, “Mari, who is it?” but when she saw for herself, the woman’s mouth dropped open. “My Princess!” she exclaimed, bowing low and pulling her daughter with her.

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” Kit assured them. “Please, rise. I have only come to check on your welfare and to deliver my condolences.”

The mother and daughter stood then, and Tem’s wife glanced behind her, as if she wasn’t sure what to do before she finally said, “Please, won’t you come in, Princess Katrinetta? Our place is meager, but you are most welcome.”

“I would be honored,” Kit said, following them inside.

It was quaint to say the least. There was a small bed on one side next to a ladder she assumed led to a small loft where the children likely slept. Across from them, there was a table, a fireplace, and a few cabinets. The floor was wooden and not dirt, as Kit had originally thought it might be, but it was in rough shape, and it was evident the rains had brought in quite a bit of mud around the foundation.

Tem’s wife offered her a seat at the table, and Kit took it, not knowing what else to do. “This is the Representative from Rockdale, Jaterius,” she said gesturing at her companion.

“It’s lovely to meet you.” She took his hand and smiled, but it was evident she was only being polite. “I’m Pim. This is my daughter Mari, and that one hidden under the bed is my son Temi.”

Kit turned to look behind her and saw a pair of eyes peering at them from beneath the bed. She waved, and he ducked back under. Pim offered Jate a seat, but he declined. “I’m so very sorry for your loss,” he said. “Tem was always so kind to all of us, and he gave his life protecting the princess.”

“Thank you,” Pim said, the tears welling over again. She struggled to keep hold of them this time. “When I received word, I asked what happened, and none of the guardsmen could say. But I heard later, one of the Representatives attempted to take your life, Princess. Is that true?”

Kit inhaled deeply, not sure what to say. She hadn’t heard specifically what her mother was allowing to be said, so she only replied, “It was under unexpected circumstances that Tem and another guardsman, Lok, gave their lives. Thanks to them, I am well.”

“And to your commander, I have heard,” Pim interjected. “Everyone knows that he’s the one who jumped in to take the other ‘n out, regardless of what’s bein’ said.” She dabbed at her eyes with a soiled handkerchief.

Seeing no reason to confirm or deny the tale, Kit said, “We brought you a few things. It isn’t much....” It really wasn’t, now that she saw the awful state her guardsman’s family was living in. “But it is something.”

Jate placed the basket they’d collected from her ladies on the table in front of her, and Kit opened it up. She produced a letter she’d written before they left and handed it the woman, hoping she could read it, though now, she thought perhaps she couldn’t. “This is just a letter saying how sorry I am that Tem was killed in the line of duty, and that I will forever be indebted to him and your family for his sacrifice.”

Pim took it and set it aside, wiping at her nose with the handkerchief again. “This is a small gemstone I thought you might want to keep. I have read in the history books in the library that there used to be medals given from the crown for those who died in service.” She knew her mother’s guardsmen were outside listening, so she tried to be careful of her words. “It was an interesting tale, so I thought this might serve as a reminder of how precious Tem was—just like this sapphire.”

Marveling at the stone, Pim took it in her hand and thanked the princess. It wasn’t even the size of a large coin, but selling it would provide this family with clean clothing, perhaps some repairs to their dwelling, and maybe some better food.

“Finally, we brought a warm meal for you and the children.” Kit wasn’t even sure what her ladies had packed in the basket, but she slid the entire container across the table, thinking Pim would have more use of it than she would.

Tears streamed down the woman’s face as she looked at the abundance of food packed in the basket. “Goddesses bless you, my Princess,” she said. “I was just thinking this morning, without Tem, how was I going to feed the children.”