Mark if Destiny

by K. T. Webb

  One glance at Rowan reminded her there were two sides to every coin. Had those things been different, they may never have met. He may have loved someone else and been completely oblivious to the love he now shared with Honor. No, Honor realized she was better for the things she had endured. Her mother was gone, but she had left behind a strong young woman who had found love and happiness on her own.

  “I had better let you both get some rest. You must have had a long walk from Milltown. Is there anyone I should send word to that you have made it this far?” Soren offered.

  Honor realized with a start that news of what happened at Milltown would not have reached anyone in the county. There were no survivors. Those who fled from the encampment fled to the north, they would not have taken the time to send someone to any other village. Honor hated the pained expression that covered Rowan’s face like a mask. He was still barely holding in the raw pain of losing his mother. He had yet to truly face the idea that he may never see his father again.

  “I think we should sit down,” Honor instructed.

  Soren looked uncomfortable taking a seat in the chairs that were clearly marked for representatives from each county. It was obvious he had not used this room for any purpose other than the one it had been built for. Once they were seated, Honor and Rowan took turns telling the events that had brought them to that moment. Much of what they told him was probably unnecessary, but Honor felt Soren would want to hear everything considering his position in the resistance. When they recounted the scene they found in Milltown, Soren paled.

  “Renata?” he whispered.

  Honor looked to Rowan to answer. “We do not know that she was there. Honestly, when Honor was sick from her infection, we were unable to locate her. I do not know when she left Milltown or if she had returned by the time the Makt attacked.”

  Soren looked relieved. “Do not misunderstand. I am not afraid she was killed. I would never believe it if someone told me she was dead. There is something about Renata and the power she holds that has kept her safe from death. My concern was more that she may have been found. If the Makt got their hands on Renata, I do not know what means she would use to escape.”

  “You speak of her as though she were a witch of sorts.” Rowan furrowed his brow. “Just because she is old does not mean she is immortal.”

  Soren shook his head with a smile. “You misunderstand. I believe she is far stronger than any witch from a bedtime story. The practitioner has a connection to the old magic of Alderwood. It is almost as if she is a part of the earth itself.”

  Honor had no response. The brief interaction she had with Renata told her the woman knew more than she had let on. There were too many elements that had been perfectly planned by the practitioner to allow Honor to believe she was anything short of magical. Whether that meant she was a witch or something more, Honor had no idea.

  The information they had received and shared weighed heavily on her mind. Not only was she certain Goldenlark was where she must go, she was beginning to wonder what she would find there. At times, it occurred to her that she was following a trail of clues rather than following the path of her destiny. Exhaustion was setting in as the trio sat silently around the table.

  “I will send some men off to Milltown in the morning. I will let them think they are going on a trade run. Those people deserve to be found and given proper burials.” Soren broke the silence with a serious tone.

  Rowan thanked him and rose to his feet. “It seems best for us to retire for the evening. Goldenlark is another day’s walk from here providing the weather holds. The clouds to the south did not look like they would bring fair conditions.”

  They allowed Soren to take the lead. He closed and locked the hidden door before sliding the shelf back in front of it. Once they were back on the main floor, Soren turned to face them. He looked torn about what to do next. Honor watched him practically argue with himself as he fought to decide. She had a feeling she knew what was coming but did not want to presume and make the situation awkward. In one fluid motion, Soren stepped close and enveloped her in a firm embrace. Despite not knowing him more than a few hours, Honor felt herself relax in his arms. Soren was not her father, that was true, but she knew he would have raised her without hesitation. Both had lost Laurel before they were ready to say goodbye. Honor promised herself that if she completed her mission to kill the King and install the new Queen, she would return to Soren and get to know him. Rowan would be skeptical, but she knew he would accept her decision.

  “Thank you for everything, Soren. You have no idea how much you have helped me,” Honor whispered.

  “I cannot express how good it is to see you. You were such a tiny baby when your mother left. I always hoped you would one day find yourself here again. I am sorry it was not under better circumstances.” Soren smiled down at her. “Get cleaned up, get some rest. I will have breakfast brought to you in the morning.”

  Honor followed Rowan up the stairs and down the hall to their room. Once inside he turned her to face him. “How are you feeling?”

  Honor shrugged before burying her face in his chest. There were too many emotions swirling around inside her to decipher exactly what she was feeling. Rowan held her without prying any further. He knew her well enough to understand this was what she needed in that moment. He gently kissed the top of her head and undid the braid binding her hair. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew how much she probably smelled, but Rowan obviously paid no mind. He tangled his fingers into the thick reddish mess that desperately needed to see a brush. Honor leaned her head back to welcome a kiss from him.

  At first, he was gentle. But as Honor pressed her body against his, Rowan’s need took over. He deepened their kiss, pulling her closer to him. She felt like she could not get enough of him and pushed him toward the bed. They were not married. She would not cross any more lines. For now, all she wanted was to feel his body close to hers and taste him as his hands explored her subtle curves. Rowan repositioned until they lay next to one another, his hand still tangled in her hair. He continued to capture her mouth while trailing his free hand down her side. Honor moaned softly as he gripped her butt and pressed himself against her. She felt his excitement in more ways than one. In that second, she would have given anything to already be his wife.

  Honor allowed her hand to travel under his shirt, following the softness of his skin up to his chest. Goosebumps sprouted under her fingers in response to her touch. Rowan responded differently than she expected. He stiffened, broke off their kiss and gently removed her hand from his chest. Honor tried not to let her disappointment show.

  “Stop. Honor, you know I love you. You know I want you to be my wife. But I cannot let either of us cross the lines we are heading toward right now.”

  The sting of rejection was quickly replaced by appreciation for the man she loved. “I know you are right, but part of me wishes you were not so noble.”

  Honor snuggled against his chest as he wrapped both arms around her. “You have no idea how much I wish the same myself right now.”

  “I suppose I should take a bath. Do you think you can keep your eyes to yourself?” Honor teased.

  Rowan chuckled. “I will not make any such promise.”

  The heated tone of his voice told her she could probably still convince him to flirt with the lines again. Honor was tempted beyond anything she had ever experienced, but she knew this was not the time. With a sigh, Honor climbed out of bed and headed to the tub knowing there was not time to heat any water, but she was accustomed to chilled baths in the clear waters of Delta’s pool. After giving the metal pump a few strong pushes, she could hear the water beginning to work its way up through the piping that brought it from the well to the second floor.

  Indoor bathing was fairly common amongst those who lived in the villages, but it was a treat for Honor and Rowan. Living outside of civilization had given them life experiences that the village children could only dream of, but on the other hand, it had rob
bed them of privileges they would have enjoyed. The bed creaked behind her as Rowan shifted. Honor glanced over her shoulder to find him facing the wall opposite the bathing area. With a grin, Honor pulled the curtain around the space surrounding the tub. The water had stopped flowing, so she gave the pump a few more solid tugs. Honor added a few drops of the soft scented soap to the water, swirling it around with her hand. A few moments later she was undressed and stepping into the lukewarm water.

  She dunked her head, using the soap to massage the dirt and sweat off her scalp. When she emerged, she set to work on washing the rest of her body. Her aching muscles were moderately relieved from soaking, but the water had quickly grown cloudy from her dirty body, so she did not feel the urge to stay in the water long. After another round of washing, she pulled the plug from the drain and wrapped herself in a towel.

  “Do you want me to draw your bath?” she asked Rowan.

  He sat up on the bed and turned to face her. His eyes widened as he realized she had not dressed. “Oh. I . . . uh . . . thought you would be . . .”

  Honor laughed. “Sorry. I think I’m going to wash our clothes and hang them to dry. My other clothes are in your pack over there.”

  “Oh. Let me grab them for you.” He hopped up and began digging in the bag. Honor turned and began pumping the water to fill the tub.

  She felt him behind her before she turned to see Rowan standing too close. Without warning, he dropped the clothes and kissed her again. In the back of her head she wondered if sharing a room had been a terrible idea. How was she going to make it through the night if neither of them could keep their hands off each other? Honor reached up to weave her fingers in his hair. Rowan gasped against her mouth. Somewhere, she registered that her towel had fallen to the floor, but her body was pressed against his, so he was unlikely to see her mark. He stood fully clothed, running his hands down her naked body. The intense heat between them increased and her breathing hitched. It was her turn to put a stop to the path they were running down. She pushed herself away from him.

  “Rowan. Please. I will not be able to resist if you do not stop now.” Honor knew her words were not enough to convince either of them. “I want nothing more than to be with you. But I know how important it is for us to wait.”

  “Honor?” Rowan swallowed hard. “Your mark.”

  Her stomach dropped to her feet. In her haste to break away from him and stop them from moving too quickly, Honor had forgotten to consider her mark was exposed. She now stood before him completely naked with her mark in full view. Frozen in place, Honor tried to read the expression on Rowan’s face. Was it fear? Did he think she was going to hurt him? Was it confusion? She did not know what to do or say. She grabbed her clothes and dressed quickly. Rowan still stood rooted to the spot, staring at her in silence. Without another word, Honor fled the room. She was in the hall and down the stairs before she registered how quickly she chose to flee rather than face the moment.

  Chapter 12

  Honor stood by the bar. It seemed senseless to leave the inn, but she could not face Rowan. She had to decide where to go before he came to his senses and followed her down the stairs. Her stomach twisted at the thought. What if he did not follow her? What would she do if he was so distraught by what he saw on her side that he lost all interest in facing her again? Honor felt her chest tighten until she struggled to draw in air.

  She pushed a strand of wet hair from her face, all at once aware that the shoulders of her shirt were soaked through from not bothering to dry off. All rational thoughts were gone the moment Rowan ran his hands over her skin, including the towel. How could she have been so stupid? Loud thumping filled her ears. In a panic, Honor whirled around expecting to find Rowan at the foot of the steps. Instead, the thumping got louder and closer together. She tried to breathe, but her throat felt swollen. Hot tears fell from her eyes. She paced back and forth as the room began to spin. Rowan had yet to appear. Honor began to realize she would have to come to terms with the idea that he may not follow her. She sank to the floor in the corner where they had shared a meal just hours before.

  Deep down, Honor knew her fear of their intimacy before marriage had stemmed from the fear of him rejecting her based on her mark. She had somehow convinced herself that marriage would keep him from rebuffing her. Marriage was only a legally binding contract; it would not keep him from falling out of love with her. It was not her fault that her mark depicted such a gory future. He did not even know what she had surmised about killing the king. He would not understand why part of the mark was already colored in; she did not understand it herself!

  She buried her face in her arms as she hugged her knees close to her body. A sob escaped from deep within her chest. It almost hurt more than the fear she had seen on Rowan’s face.

  “Honor?”

  “Go away, Rowan.” As much as her heart ached to see him, her mind knew she could not face the pain of what he would surely say.

  Without looking at him, she knew he was crouching down to her level. She felt him sidle up next to her, his side pressed right against hers. “Listen, I am sorry I reacted the way I did.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have expected you would see it someday and react the same. I cannot help the path destiny has chosen for me.”

  “Is this why you were so adamant that we could not be together?”

  Honor refused to look at him. “That is part of the reason, yes. However, your mother and I both believe there is more to my destiny than simply finding the missing princess and helping her become Queen.”

  Rowan gently tugged at her arms until she allowed them to hang limply by her sides. With her face still stuck firmly between her knees, she tried desperately not to peek at his face. Not only was it embarrassing that she just stood naked in front of him, but she also had to find a way to cope with the fact that he had seen her mark and no amount of running would change that.

  “Honor. Look at me.”

  “No.”

  “Honor. I do not care what your future holds. I would not care if you were destined to be a baker, I would not care if you were destined to be a warrior. You are now, and always have been, my best friend. I love you. I should have been more careful with my reaction.”

  Honor lifted her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. “No. Your reaction was genuine. All I have ever wanted from you was for you to be who you are. You were right to be surprised by my mark. It certainly does not point to a happy life as a baker.”

  Rowan chuckled and shook his head. “I have not seen many marks aside from my own, but I know that each one is given to the person it is meant for. Honor, I know you well enough to understand that you were never meant for a simple life. You were destined for greatness from the very beginning. That mark is special. It may be terrifying, but it is possibly more special than either of us can conceive.”

  “This mark has brought nothing but death along with it. At first, I thought the skull represented the King because the crown is resting upon it. But since the day I received this mark, so many have died. Good, innocent people have been senselessly murdered. I cannot help but feel as though that may somehow be my fault.”

  “Never. Those people have lost their lives at the hands of a terrible king. He does not even know the number who have died in his name, nor does he care. Obviously, Harcos and Eirny are prepared to follow you, so you need to stop blaming yourself and start acting like a leader.”

  Honor wiped her eyes. “Are you still willing to walk beside me?”

  “Nothing could ever stop me.” Rowan kissed her forehead then rose to his feet. “Come on, I need to wash up then we should get some rest.”

  She followed him back up the stairs. In her mind, she was certain his words were true, but her heart still ached when she remembered the look on his face as he beheld the mark on her side. It was more than surprise, it was fear. To be fair, he had every right and every reason to be afraid. She, herself, was terrified. The mark itself was not particu
larly chilling on its own; it was more the fear of what it may represent. So many changes had been thrown her way in recent weeks that it was impossible for her to pick and choose which would be the least appealing.

  When they returned to their room, Honor took to the bed immediately. She lay staring at the wall, curled beneath the blankets while Rowan undressed and sank into the tub. As she drifted to sleep, her mind wandered to the possibilities she faced. If she was destined to kill someone, could she do it? When faced with the question, she had to wonder what exactly the situation would be like. If someone were attacking her, she knew she would defend herself even if that resulted in the death of the other person. If there were a threat to Rowan, she felt certain she would come to his aid. To say King Junius was not a good person was one thing, but could she say he deserved to die? Would it not be easier to wait for him to die naturally, then install the new Queen on the throne?

  The man had murdered a young woman, intending to kill her unborn child simply because he did not wish for the child to be born. If he was willing to do that, there was no telling how many others he had personally murdered to keep them from getting in his way. Honor knew what she was being called to do was much more than killing a man. She was being called to avenge the wrongful deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent men, women, and children. Honor was being called to bring an end to a reign of terror. The charred faces of the villagers at Milltown came to her mind. She remembered holding Maris’ hand in her final moments. Those were only a few of the many deaths that could be traced directly back to the king; whether he killed them with his own two hands or ordered their execution.