“Let me explain,” I implored. “I mean your brother no harm.”
“You cannot speak as you do without dangerous consequences. The queen has spies everywhere, Pali. The way you talk…and tease…” His blue glare was winter’s coldest ice, slicing through my heart with the sharp precision of an axe.
Oh, how I understood the consequences of my words, my actions…by the gods, my most hidden, private thoughts. What my soul demanded was so much more than to satisfy some idle curiosity. I had not lied when I insisted I wanted Syndrian’s kiss. I had wanted it and still longed for it. More than ever, even now, when my heart was certain I’d ruined any chance I had for it.
With only the touch of his lips to my ear, his whispers against my skin, Syndrian made me loathe my intended. A man whose name I still did not know. One kiss from Syndrian, and my entire world would come undone. I was certain of that.
I shivered and hugged my arms before reminding myself that I had done nothing wrong.
“I asked a question,” I insisted, fear and confusion clouding my judgment. “I had no intention of hurting anyone, and I am certainly not toying with anyone! Least of all you.”
Syndrian peered at the covered windows, his scowl reminding me that the cottage walls were thin. And that even the neighbors here could be spies. I broke into a cold sweat as I realized this cottage of my father’s could be surrounded by those who knew him, who worked for him. By the gods…perhaps I was a naive fool.
I lowered my voice, trying to strengthen the wobble that cracked my voice. “I learned there was a massacre of the creatures,” I admitted, choosing to replace the wordgoblin,just in case. “And I so desperately fear I may, in some part, be to blame. I wanted to ask your brother what he knows. Partly to absolve myself, I suppose, if such a thing were possible.”
“So you came for me to get to Flynn? To get information about matters that no one, absolutely no one in this realm should speak of?” He gripped the doorknob with one hand and rubbed his forehead with the other as though in great pain. “We should not be here. No good can come of this conversation. We’d best depart.”
“Wait!” I exclaimed. “You’re twisting my words! That’s not at all what I did or what I meant. Syndrian, please!”
I rushed toward him and grabbed his arm. He looked down at my hand, raw pain etched onto his face. His eyes shimmered with deep sadness. Disappointment. He aimed those emotions at me like a dagger.
“Go, if you don’t care to listen.” I lifted my chin but avoided looking at him. My heart could not bear the pain in his face. Could hardly bear my own. “You’ve already judged me childish and selfish. I had no idea you could feel that way about me.”
I steadied the trembling of my lips, refusing to reveal the depth of grief his low opinion aroused.
“But if you do view me that way, then I too have misjudged you. I thought you were more understanding. That you saw the woman behind the Lombard name. Beyond the wealth and the… Lies. My family’s legacy of lies.” I shook my head. “ I sincerely believed you knew the real me. But I will not fight to change the impression left by thirteen years of friendship. Thirteen years of feelings—at least on my part—destroyed because of one lapse in judgment in one conversation. Leave me, the fool that I am, and go with my regrets.”
I released him, hating everything about how this day had developed. About what I had said. About how I had behaved. About how quickly everything connected to my family could turn sour and spoil.
“You have every right to be angry,” I said simply. “Before everything tuns, before you walk away for good, please know this. And believe it, as I do not believe I could mean anything more than I mean. I am truly sorry, Syndrian. For so many things.”
I pictured the mask and the pub and the fire I’d set in the woods. I’d done so much to endanger him already. Ruin. That’s where this path would end. Why could I not accept it and change course? What stubborn, insistent vitality within me could not be broken? I realized with resignation that perhaps my selfishness would be my undoing. I could live with that—the consequences that followed my actions. My mistakes.
But I would not allow harm to come to any whom I cared about. And if I had accepted nothing else over the past few days, I knew now that I cared for Syndrian Serlo. Deeply. I could not stop him from leaving. Would not drag anyone else into the mess that I was creating.
The afternoon grew late. I would need to return home before my mother sent attendants to look for me. Before she interrogated Letti or blamed someone else for my impulsive behavior. I had done enough harm for one day. I was just grateful that Odile had left chamomile in my room. Nothing save several more days of tears would even begin to ease the ache in my heart. I stood there, trapped in an endless loop of blame and regret, waiting for him to leave. Just waiting.
Syndrian hung his head and closed his eyes, dragging his feet across the cabin floor as though his boots were weighed heavy with stones. He moved past me without touching me and roughly dropped into one of the hard chairs. He rubbed his face with both hands and huffed a deep sigh.
The sounds of the villagers calling for children and dragging carts nearby drifted through the walls. I closed my eyes and wished, as I had so many times before, that my life were simpler. That I had a family that loved me, pets I could cherish, friends I could confide in. I was truly a fool if I thought I could ever create a life like that for myself. I’d not been born to it, nor born for it. The gods had delivered a destiny to which I simply refused to concede. How much more pain could I withstand as I fought for more?
“Pali.” His long ponytail fell over one shoulder, and when he finally raised his face, his bright eyes looked more composed. Less broken. “I need to know everything. No secrets between us. Do you agree?”
“I don’t want to make things worse,” I admitted, sniffling and rubbing my nose with the heel of my hand. “I…I…don’t want to tell you the truth, and yet I cannot deprive you of it, if that’s whatyouwant.”
“Sit with me, please.” A hint of warmth returned to his voice.
Without meeting his eyes, I joined him at the table. I took the seat opposite his, like so many times before. But there was no game board between us now. Only a deadly game of truth, lies, and secrets.
“Start at the beginning,” he said. He leaned forward, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. He laced his fingers together and set his strong, scarred forearms in front of his chest. “Tell me as much as you know.”
I nodded and leaned slightly forward, smoothing my hair from my face. “My father has arranged my marriage. I am to wed one of his associates, an Otleich. I know not whom, nor do I know when. My father told me very clearly that the marriage will solidify a critical arrangement between the Lombards and the Otleiches.” I waved a hand around. “This is one of my father’s many…” I shrugged. “Hideouts, I suppose. He rarely conducts business at the manor. But he is very, very deeply connected to the Otleich family, and he is very, very much aware of what they are. And what they do.”
I lowered my lids in disgrace. It was one thing to live with the knowledge of what my father did to earn his wealth. To enjoy the fruits of those poisonous vines. But admitting all this, especially to Syndrian, felt especially shameful.
I worried a splinter of wood on the table with a nail. “I gathered every penny of my personal savings and sought to buy a way out.”
He nodded. “What did you purchase?”