He said his hurried good-byes with a mindful eye to the growing darkness, but I left mostly in a daze, hardly remembering the steps that took me back to the cottage.
She’s free of him now.
No, not now. Not ever.
What would I tell her? It would be easier if Mikael were dead.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
KADEN
So.
Our princess has a lover.
When I followed her into the forest, I thought I was finally going to get what I needed—time alone with her. But the farther she went, the more curious I became. Where could she possibly be going? My mind conjured a lot of possibilities but never conceived of the one that took me by surprise.
I watched her fly into his arms, kissing him, holding him like she’d never let go. The young man was obviously just as happy to see her. They disappeared into the ruins, still tangled in each other’s arms. What happened from there wasn’t hard for me to imagine.
All along, that was what drove her.
A lover.
That was why she ran from the marriage. I didn’t know why I should feel sick. Maybe it was the way she had looked into my eyes this morning. The way she lingered. The blush on her cheeks. It did something to me. Something I liked. Something that made me think maybe things could still be different. I thought about it all day as I rode to Luiseveque to leave a message. And then all the way back again, even though I tried to banish her from my thoughts. Maybe things could be different. Evidently not.
It felt like I had been punched in the gut—a feeling I wasn’t accustomed to. I usually guarded myself well in that regard. Wounds in the field were one thing, but these kind, they were sheer stupidity. I may have had the air knocked out of me, but Rafe looked like he had been trampled. Stupid sot.
When I turned to leave, he was standing just a dozen feet away, not even trying to hide his presence. He had seen it all. Apparently the smitten jackass had followed us. He didn’t speak when I saw him. I suspected he couldn’t.
I brushed past him. “It seems she’s true to her word. She isn’t the innocent sort, is she?”
He didn’t reply. A reply would have been redundant. His face already said it. Maybe now he’d be on his way once and for all.
Always on the wind.
I hear them coming.
Tell me again, Ama, about the storm.
There is no time for a story, child.
Please, Ama.
Her eyes are hollow.
There is no supper tonight.
A story is all I have to fill her.
It was a storm, that’s all I remember.
A storm that wouldn’t end.
A great storm, she prompts.
I sigh, Yes, and pull her to my lap.
Once upon a time, child,