Chapter 169
MATRON YARA’S POV
“To be very honest, I was surprised that you agreed to see me,” Matron Yara smiled as she stared at Lady Kenneth.
The guest parlor set aside for Lady Kenneth looked more like a private salon at court than a northern room, soft carpets, carved walnut panels, pale curtains that let in only a thin wash of winter light. A narrow fire worked steadily in the grate. On the low table sat a silver tray already laid with cups and a small brass pot that breathed out a dark, fragrant steam.
Lady Kenneth sat straight-backed on a high chair, a book closed at her elbow. “Coffee?” she asked, lifting the pot with practiced ease. “From the capital.”
Matron Yara smiled and inclined her head. “You are very kind.” She accepted the cup, noting the fine glaze, the heat just shy of biting. The taste was strong and clean, sharper than the blends used in the North. She set the saucer down without a clink.
“But I did not come to take up your afternoon,” Yara said. “I came to apologize.”
That, at least, drew a flicker of interest. Lady Kenneth rested the pot, folded her hands, and waited.
Yara gave a small gesture. Maningo, her quiet shadow, stepped forward with a lacquered box and placed it on the table between them. He stepped back at once.
“A small token,” Yara said. “Fae stones from our deeper galleries. They are seldom brought out, I hope they please you.”
Lady Kenneth eased the lid open. Nestled in dark felt lay a handful of polished ovals, each no larger than a thumbnail, one a gray-blue with a faint inner sheen, another a pale green veined like frost, a third holding a thin thread of silver as if a line of moonlight had been trapped inside. Her eyebrow lifted, almost imperceptibly. She closed the box and drew it nearer.
“You said you came to apologize,” she prompted.
“Yes.” Yara folded her hands over her skirt. She knew that Lady Kenneth had seen these things in the past, so she didn’t take her reaction to heart. Instead, she focused on her goal. “Lord Cassian is… considerably young to carry what he carries. There are matters he once kept tightly in hand that, of late, have slipped the margins. For those lapses, I must beg your indulgence.”
Lady Kenneth’s gaze did not stray. “Lapses.”
Lady Kenneth’s tone lost its polite edge. “It has been three days since I arrived, and both the Lord and the Lady of the North have refused to see me. And you call it lapses?”
Matron Yara met her eyes with a measured calm. “Not lapses, my lady. Priorities.” She folded her hands neatly over her lap. “Since their marriage, the Lord’s time has revolved around his consort. It is… understandable. She is new to the North, and everything here demands her attention, the people, the infirmary, the duties that come with her title.”
Lady Kenneth leaned back slightly, assessing. “With her ability, that is understandable.”
Yara gave a small nod. “An ability like hers changes the air around her. It draws people in. Soldiers, healers, even the townsfolk, they look to her now. And the Lord, naturally, wants to make sure nothing threatens that. He watches her closely. Protects her.” She paused just long enough to let the thought hang. “Perhaps a little too closely.”
Lady Kenneth’s brow arched. “You make it sound as if his focus on her is… excessive.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Yara replied, though the faint smile that followed said otherwise. “She is the Consort of the North. The Lord’s attention belongs to her now. That is how it should be. Still…” She let her eyes flick toward the fire. “When one person becomes the center of every decision, even the smallest, the rest of us must work twice as hard to keep things steady.”
“And you believe her ability has that much weight?”
Yara’s voice lowered slightly. “It isn’t just an ability, my lady. It’s something that could change everything. To heal as she does, without offering anything in return, it defies what we know. The people see it as divine. The rest of us… we simply see the effect.” She smiled faintly. “The Lord of the North is no fool. He understands. that when someone can perform miracles, even small ones, it shifts where power sits. And so, he adjusts.”
Lady Kenneth tilted her cup, watching the coffee ripple. “You mean he adjusts to her.”
Yara smiled again. “He adjusts for her,” she corrected softly. “Out of respect, of course. It is rare to see the Lord so… attentive. Given his previous marriages that ended in… failure.” She leaned back. “But if her presence brings him peace, then perhaps it is worth the distraction.”
Lady Kenneth’s lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. “Distraction.”
“Even the strongest leaders need one,” Yara said smoothly. “Especially when that distraction can heal wounds others cannot.”
“I am not someone who would sugarcoat her words,” Lady Kenneth set her cup down, the faint clink against the saucer breaking the stillness. “So, tell me something, Matron. Has Lord Cassian been neglecting his duties because of her?”
Yara gave a soft laugh. “No, of course not, my lady. Lord Cassian is a northerner through and through. The North is in his blood. He would bleed for it.” She folded her hands. “He and his lieutenants remain vigilant. They have done their best to keep the borders secure, the mines productive, and the people fed despite the
season.”
She paused, lowering her voice slightly. “But the North is vast. There are always things that slip through, things even the Lord cannot see all at once.”
Lady Kenneth’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Such as?”
“There have been movements along the western edge. Witches, they say, or remnants of their circles. No one’s confirmed it yet, but the signs are there, animals found drained, strange marks in the snow, a few traders whispering about lights seen at night.”
Lady Kenneth’s brow furrowed. “And you’re telling me this now?”
“I assumed your men would prefer truth to ceremony,” Yara replied calmly. “If I hid it, it would find its way to you anyway. There’s also talk of strangers, people who arrived after the Red Moon. They came quietly, no banners, no letters of passage. The guards count new faces every few days. Some claim to be refugees, others simply appear and vanish before dawn.”
Lady Kenneth’s fingers tightened around the handle of her cup. “Are you saying Lord Cassian is gathering people in the North?”
