“You weren’t here to see it?” Royden asked to confirm that she hadn’t, hence her question. If that was so, he was relieved. It hadn’t been a sight for her to have seen.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
He hesitated. There was no need for her to know.
“Please, Royden, I want to know
He relented. “It was at the end of the battle the day of the attack. I could tell we were losing, but I couldn’t surrender, either could Arran.” He didn’t say how he had hoped, prayed, begged God to see that she had somehow managed to escape. He had feared for her outcome more than he had for himself. “It happened so quickly. I heard Arran warn with a yell and I struck down the warrior I was fighting. My arm instinctively went up to protect me from whoever rushed up behind me. His sword came down and my hand was gone. Arran and I both sent our swords through the warrior and that’s how the battle ended. If it hadn’t been for Bethany searing the wound when she did and Arran’s help, I would have died.”
A cold dread ran over Oria at the horrible image his words had painted and the suffering he must have endured. The thought of how close he came to death frightened her senseless. It had been a terror she had lived with until word had reached her and she had discovered that Royden was still alive. A joyous and sad day. She’d been filled with joy for him, but saddened beyond belief that they weren’t together.
“I don’t need your pity,” Royden said, seeing it in her eyes.
“You mistake pity for sorrow.”
“I don’t need that either,” he said, snappishly. “Life goes on no matter what.”
“It certainly does, but there is time to grieve.”
He huffed and stood, going to refill his wine from the jug on the table. “What good does it do to grieve? It won’t change anything. The only thing that matters is to fight and conquer,”
He hadn’t thought that way before and his words gave her a glimpse of what life must have been like for him the past five years. He had lived an endless battle to survive, and her heart broke for him.
He returned to his chair, taking a gulp of wine before he spoke. “We’re wed and nothing is going to change that, since I won’t see you—”
“Homeless,” she finished, though wished for a different response.
He shook his head. “Taken and given to another.”
Her heart plummeted. For a brief moment, she thought he was about to say taken from him. She wanted to hear that from him. Hear that he never wanted to let her go. Hear that he still loved her or loved her more than ever before.
“You need to eat,” he said, pointing to the platter of food. “Bethany is worried about you.”
What about him? Was he worried at all about her? She certainly was worried about him.
She picked up a piece of cheese.
“There’s much to be done around here. I could use all the help I can get,” he said, wanting to keep her from isolating herself in her bedchamber.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked with little enthusiasm.
That she seemed not the least bit interested sparked his anger and he spoke harshly. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and see to your duties.”
She almost let her tongue loose on him, but stopped. She hadn’t seen to the duties expected of a wife. How could she when she didn’t even feel like a wife? That was no excuse though. She had given herself time to consider everything or had it been grief that had kept her tucked away? Had she needed to grieve for what had truly been lost to her and Royden before she could begin again? She didn’t know. She only knew she had to go on living just as she had done when she had lost him on their wedding day.
“I will see to my duties,” she said.
He wondered just how well she would when her response lacked emotion. She had once been so eager to be his wife and take over the duties of the keep. But that had all changed. There was no going back, no wishing, no dreaming that things would again be the way they once were. They would never be the same again.
Oria dropped the piece of cheese on the platter not having taken another bite.
“You need to eat,” Royden said as if it was an order.
“I’m not hungry,”
“That doesn’t matter. You eat to keep up your strength whether you want to or not. You never know where your next meal may come from,” he warned.
His remark gave her another view into his time spent away.
She had to ask, “Did you know hunger, Royden?”
“The past is the past, Oria, let it stay there,” Royden said. “Now eat.”