Chapter 116: The Names They Speak in the Dark
Chapter 115: The Names They Speak in the Dark
Helen remained behind the bar, her hands moving with practiced ease now, though her gaze drifted more often than it should have.
Brianna shifted beside her.
For a moment, the child said nothing.
Then, slowly, her fingers loosened their hold on her mother’s skirt.
"Mama..." she began, her voice quieter now, thoughtful rather than frightened. "That duke...the one with the red hair."
Helen glanced down at her. "Aye?"
Brianna hesitated, as though arranging her thoughts into something that could be asked.
"Is he a good person?"
The question settled into the space between them.
Olly, who had just taken a long drink from the mug Helen had placed before him, paused mid-swallow.
Jacob, leaning heavily against the bar, turned his head.
The two men exchanged a look.
It was brief.
And then—
They shrugged.
A moment later, both of them laughed because they had no answer.
"Now there’s a question," Olly said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "And one I can’t say I’ve got an answer to."
Jacob nodded in agreement.
"Not much’s known about the man," he added. "At least, not to the likes of us."
Brianna frowned.
"But he was there," she insisted. "Everyone saw him."
"Aye, that we did," Olly said. "But seeing a man and knowing him are two very different things, lass."
He leaned back slightly, balancing his chair on its hind legs.
"That’s the first time he’s shown himself properly to the public," he continued. "Before now, he’s been more story than substance."
Brianna blinked.
"Why?" she asked.
Olly let his chair drop back onto all fours with a soft thud.
"Now that," he said, "is a question I’d like answered myself."
Jacob snorted.
"Aye," he agreed. "But don’t expect it any time soon. Men like that don’t go explaining themselves to folk like us."
Brianna did not seem satisfied with that.
Her gaze shifted, thoughtful, before landing on her mother.
"Mama?" she asked.
Helen exhaled slowly.
"I don’t know much about that duke," she admitted. "Not enough to say what kind of man he is."
She paused.
"But I know a bit about another."
Olly’s brow lifted slightly.
"Oh?" he said.
Helen nodded.
"The baron," she said. "Redwick."
That drew more attention than anything else had so far.
Jacob straightened.
"Aye?" he prompted.
Helen wiped her hands against her apron before resting them on the bar.
"I’m from Stoneford," she said simply.
Olly let out a short laugh.
"Aye, that you are," he said. "Came here after marrying, didn’t you?"
Helen shot him a look.
"I did," she said.
Jacob leaned forward.
"So what d’you know?" he asked.
Helen tilted her head slightly, considering.
"I wouldn’t say I know him," she said. "Not directly."
Her gaze drifted slightly, as though reaching back through memory.
"But I heard things," she continued. "When he was younger."
Brianna leaned closer.
"What kind of things?" she asked.
Helen’s lips pressed together briefly before she answered.
"He’s... focused," she said. "Always has been."
Jacob nodded slowly.
"That much shows," he muttered.
"And brilliant," Helen added. "Not just in books and such, but in ways that matter."
She tapped the bar lightly.
"His work’s done good for Stoneford," she said. "Real good."
Olly frowned slightly.
"Work?" he repeated. "What kind o’ work?"
"Research, Olly, ye should know that," Helen replied. "Things that helped the land. Crops. Trade. Systems."
She shrugged.
"Made life easier for folk."
There was a pause at that.
The kind that came when something real settled into place.
"And he’s a baron?" Jacob asked.
Helen huffed quietly.
"That’s because of dirty old politics," she said.
Helen’s expression darkened slightly.
"Stoneford weren’t always in good shape," she said. "Lost land. Lost money. Hard years."
Jacob nodded.
"Aye. I remember hearing of that."
"And when it did," Helen continued, "titles shifted."
She glanced at them.
"Some say the King reduced it," she said. "Brought it down to a barony."
Olly’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"And you think that was intentional?" he asked.
Helen held his gaze.
"I think," she said carefully, "that power makes people wary."
There was no need to explain further.
Jacob exhaled slowly.
"Aye," he said. "That it does."
By now, more people had begun to gather.
The door had opened and closed several times during the conversation, each new arrival bringing with them the cold from outside—and the same topic on their tongues.
The competition.
The princess.
Lyria.
Voices layered over one another as they filtered in, some taking seats, others standing where they could.
The tavern filled.
And slowly, the conversation became shared.
Brianna tugged at her mother’s apron again.
"Mama," she said, drawing Helen’s attention back down.
"Aye?"
"I like the baron," she declared.
Helen blinked.
"Oh?" she said.
Brianna nodded firmly.
"He’s handsome," she added.
That drew a laugh from Olly.
"Is he now?" he said.
Brianna nodded again, completely serious.
"But he should smile more," she continued. "Like that other duke."
Olly barked a laugh at that.
"Thorncrest?" he said. "Aye, that one smiles enough for ten men."
Jacob chuckled.
"That he does."
Olly leaned back again, shaking his head.
"That man’s known for it," he said. "Always smiling."
He tapped his mug thoughtfully.
"But don’t let that fool ye," he added. "There’s power there."
Jacob nodded.
"Aye," he said. "Old power."
Olly gestured vaguely.
"Highmoor’s held that title for generations," he said. "They don’t lose it. Don’t weaken."
"People say life there’s good," someone from further down the bar added.
"Aye," another voice agreed. "Trade’s strong."
"Weapons too," a third chimed in. "They deal in everything."
Helen listened quietly, her expression unreadable.
"They’re stable," Jacob said. "That counts for a lot."
Brianna considered this.
Then her gaze shifted again.
"What about the other duke?" she asked. "The one... Aurelgrave?"
There was a brief pause.
Jacob scratched at his chin.
"Can’t say I know much myself," he admitted.
Before he could say more, another voice spoke up from behind them.
"I do."
They turned.
A man stood near the doorway, shrugging off his coat.
"I’ve got a daughter there," he said. "In the Eastmere territory."
That drew immediate attention.
"Well?" Olly prompted.
The man stepped closer, accepting a mug from Helen with a nod of thanks.
"It’s good," he said simply.
"How good?" Jacob pressed.
The man took a drink before answering.
"Better than here," he said.
That alone was enough to quiet a few voices.
"He’s kind," the man continued. "That duke."
He shrugged.
"Not like..." he trailed off, glancing briefly toward the palace, though it could not be seen from here.
Helen’s lips thinned slightly.
"Go on," Olly urged.
The man exhaled.
"People are fed," he said. "Work’s fair. Punishments ain’t handed out just to make a point."
There was a murmur at that.
"Aye," Jacob said slowly. "That does sound like kindness."
The man nodded.
"It is," he said. "And it’s known."
He took another drink.
"He’d be a good match," he added. "For the princess."
Brianna seemed to consider this very seriously.
But before she could speak, another person did.
"What about the Marquess of Westreach?"
And just like that, the tavern fell silent.
Helen’s hands stilled.
Olly’s smile faded.
Jacob did not speak.
Even the newer patrons, who had not yet fully settled, seemed to pause as though they had stepped into something they did not understand.
The silence stretched.
Long enough to be noticed.
Long enough to become something else.
Brianna scrunched her face in disgust. "He’s ugly," she said.
For a heartbeat, silence fell as everyone stared at the child, and then laughter burst from every corner, loud and unrestrained, breaking the tension as though it had never been there at all.
