I felt no surprise, only a gaping loss in me. A frightened boy inside me gasped that now no one and nothing could stand between me and Regal. In another part, I wondered what it would have been like to call him “Grandfather” instead of “my king.” But those selfish parts were small compared with what it meant to this King’s Man. Shrewd had shaped me, made me what I was, for good or ill. He had picked up my life one day, a boy playing under a table in the Great Hall, and set his stamp upon it. His decision that I must read and write, must be able to wield a sword or disperse a poison. It seemed to me that with his passing, I must take responsibility for my own acts now. It was a strangely frightening thought.
All had become aware of the lead man’s burden. We halted on the road. Like a curtain parting, Kettricken’s guard opened to allow him to approach her. A terrible silence held as he handed her the baton, and then the small scroll. The red sealing wax flaked away from her nail. I watched it fall to the muddy road. Slowly she opened the scroll and read it. Something went out of her in that reading. Her hand fell to her side. She let the scroll follow the wax to the mud, a thing done with, a thing she never wished to peruse again. She did not faint, nor cry out. Her eyes looked afar, and she set her hand gently atop her belly. And in that motion, I knew it was not Shrewd who was dead, but Verity.
I reached for him. Somewhere, surely somewhere, coiled small inside me, a spark of a link, the tiniest thread of a connection … no. I did not even know when it had vanished. I recalled that whenever I fought, I was likely to break my link with him. It did not help. I recalled now what had seemed just an oddity on the night of the battle. I had thought I had heard Verity’s voice, crying out, issuing orders that made no sense. I could not recall one individual word of what he might have shouted. But now it seemed to me that they had been battle orders, orders to scatter, to seek cover perhaps, or … but I could not recall anything with certainty. I looked over at Burrich, to find the question in his eyes. I had to shrug. “I don’t know,” I said quietly. His brow furrowed as he considered this.