by H. L. Burke
“You didn’t know any better, and I wasn’t completely innocent in the matter, either. However, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought lately. The idea of the two people who mean the most to me in the world being together, having each other to take care of, to love—what sort of a man wouldn’t want that?” His tone was light, but pain twisted his lips. “You’re everything a man could want in a wife, Arynne, and Olyn deserves that. He deserves you, and frankly, I don’t.”
“Don’t say that!” Frustration mixed with grief, bursting from her in a shout. “Kay, you are an amazing—”
“I’m glad that you think that, Arynne. You don’t know how much it means to me that you see me as more than I am, but we’ve known each other such a short while.” He hung his head. “Much longer and the shine would wear off, and you’d know me for the wreck I am. Olyn’s not like me. He’s stronger, smarter, better in pretty much every conceivable way. You deserve someone like Olyn, not someone who fouls up everything he puts his hands on.”
The lies slipping from his lips made her head spin. How could he think that about himself? How could he believe those things?
The answer was obvious: he’d had it hammered into his brain by his father every waking moment of his life, every success made out to be a failure, every misstep elevated to a catastrophe.
“Kay—” She stepped closer.
He flinched from her. “Please, Arynne, give my brother a chance. I want you both to be happy. I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. When I said Olyn was the only one I truly loved, I lied, but that was because I don’t know how to separate what I feel from what I desire. I need to find a way to love you without possessing you, to be able to accept you with him, to wish you both all the joy a life with another can provide.” His voice cracked. “I’m trying, Arynne. I swear. I’m trying with all my might, with all my heart, to love you as a friend, as a sister, and not—not what I want to see you as. I’m trying to be selfless in this, but it’s hard. I’m selfish. I’m weak. This isn’t something I was cut out for, and I’m so so sorry I’m not strong enough.”
Her heart shattered. What had she done?
“Kay—” She reached for him, but again he dodged.
“I need to go before Olyn finds out I was here. After the ceremony, I plan to leave Frorheim for a while, to find the grims, yes, but also to clear my head, get some perspective.” He stood up straight again. “Next time we speak, you’ll be my brother’s wife, and I need to be in a place by then that I can see you as such. Good-bye, Arynne.”
“Wait!” Aggravated by his repeated refusal to let her say her piece, she lunged for him, snatching at his arm as he turned away.
He blinked down at her. “I really need to—”
“No! You said what you came here to say, and now it’s my turn!” she snapped.
He subsided.
Bracing herself, Arynne tried to sort the anger and heartbreak flitting about her brain into some sort of coherent sentence. Yes, she loved him. Yes, she would try to be his brother’s wife rather than a temptress attempting to wedge herself between him and Olyn, for the sake of the whole kingdom, but specifically for Kay ... but more importantly, she needed him to know he was wrong about himself.
She drew a deep breath. “When I first met you, Kay, I thought you were strong because you were brave, because you smiled in the face of danger, because you kept me safe, but I was wrong.”
His gaze dropped to the floor at her words, and her chest tightened. She cupped his face in her hands and breathed into him. For once he didn’t pull away. He stayed, shoulders slumped, face pinched, as if waiting for a blow. As if waiting for her to tell him what everyone else had his entire life, that he wasn’t good enough, that he never could and never would be. She brushed her fingers up into his hair, leading his eyes back to her own.
“You’re not strong because of all those outer things, Kay. You’re strong because you’ve had your heart broken again and again, and you’ve kept going.” Tears welled from her eyes. “You’ve kept going with a smile on your face even though your soul is screaming, and that makes you the strongest man I’ve ever known.”
He quivered against her but didn’t speak.
She leaned closer to him. If this was their last chance to speak openly, she needed him to hear this. She couldn’t let his eyes, his face, or his warmth distract her from saying what his soul needed to hear. “Please, Kay, stay strong for me. Keep going for me. Don’t let it defeat you.”
His arms surrounded her, pulling her against him in a fierce hug, so tight she feared her ribs would break. She didn’t protest but instead rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart. His magic trickled into her, mingling with her own, sending warmth through her. Why could she only be warm around him?
He hid his face in her hair, breathing ... memorizing her scent? She needed to remember to praise Sigid for her choice of perfumed hair oil. She rubbed the space between his shoulders as if he were a small child she needed to comfort—which didn’t feel far off. Beneath the facade of the tall, smirking starwarden cowered a mistreated boy, scared, lonely, and broken.
Her hold on him tightened, wishing she could reach into his heart and heal the wounds his father had left and that she’d unintentionally acerbated with her foolish handling of him. She longed to whisper that she loved him, that she’d always love him, no matter what happened, but the fear that it would only make things worse held her tongue.
No, she’d hurt Kay enough. It was time to stop thinking of herself. It was time to be the woman both he and Olyn needed her to be, even if that meant her heart would never cease to bleed.
He released her but still stood close, examining her face with a quiet, resolved expression. She tried to smile, but it died on her lips. Kay brushed his hand across her cheek, tangling his fingers for a moment in her hair, then with a half-hearted wink, he turned away.
A shiver cut through her as his magic faded from her. The door shut behind him, and she closed her eyes, willing with all her might not to cry, not to break down.
Someone knocked on the door. She straightened, chin in the air, drawing a quick breath to steady her voice. It was probably Sigid. She didn’t want the maid to question why she was upset.
“Come in.”
Olyn entered, his head slightly tilted. “Was Kay in here a minute ago?”
She stiffened but lying might look more suspicious. “Yes.”
“I thought I saw him, but when I called out to him, he traveled—which was odd, so part of me wondered if I imagined him.” He shook his head. “He’s acting off. What did he want to talk to you about?”
Her jaw clenched. She did not like lying to Olyn hours before their heartbonding ... but she supposed she’d lied enough over the last several moonnotches that continuing was inevitable. “He wanted to privately welcome me to the family. He’s planning to leave immediately after the ceremony, so it was his last chance to wish me well.”
“You but not me?” Olyn wasn’t an idiot.
“I’m sure he plans to speak to you as well.”
“Well, he certainly bolted off like a frightened seedmouse, but maybe he wanted to get out of the family wing before Father showed up.” Olyn’s shoulders slumped. “Father’s been doubling down on his criticism of Kay lately. He was furious that Kay changed his mind about attending the ceremony this brightening.”
“Really? Why does it matter if Kay is there?” Arynne frowned.
Olyn let out a sigh. “It’s silly, paranoid, but Father thinks dark forces are working to stop our union, to thwart the prophecy that we’ll prevent Athan’s return.”
“Well, considering the grimowl attack, he is probably right.” Arynne gave a hesitant nod. Agreeing with the foul king on anything felt wrong somehow.
“Oh, about that, he’s absolutely right. I spoke with Aunt Friya, and she swears the boundary between the human world and the Lingering Dark is weakening by the moonnotch. If Athan managed to survive his banishment the
re, he’ll be looking for a way to return to our realm and exact revenge. The increase in grims suggests he has allies on this side of the boundary as well. It’s troubling.” He rubbed his forehead as if it ached. “What Father is wrong about is seeing Kay as an extension of that evil. He thinks the dark omens around Kay’s birth means he needs to stay as far away from me and you as possible until everything is set in place.”
Arynne’s fingers tightened into fists. “That’s ridiculous. Kay would rip out his own heart before he hurt you ... or me.” Adding the second part was risky, but she somehow doubted Olyn would see any harm behind Kay’s fondness for her—not if he didn’t know the full extent.
Olyn raised his hand. “I know that, and you know that, but to Father, Kay is a dangerous element whose very existence threatens Father’s carefully laid plans.”
Anger stirred in Arynne’s chest. “If he just took a little time to find out who Kay really is, he wouldn’t worry.”
Olyn placed his hand on her shoulder. “Well, maybe now that Kay has two allies in the family instead of one, things will be different.”
Her spirits lightened, and for the first time in too long, a real smile flitted across her face. “You’re a good man, Olyn. Kay is lucky to have you as a brother.”
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She could do worse than a kind man, a considerate man, a man who fought for Kay when no one else would. It made sense for her to be with him. Also it was what Kay wanted. If she could just control her desires, push them down, this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Thank you. That means a lot.” He hung his head. “Sometimes I worry I’m not doing enough for him, you know? It’s hard, with Father—well, I don’t want to think about that right now. I need to get ready for the ceremony, and you probably do too.”
“I’m already dressed.” She stepped back to display her gown.
He started. “Oh, so you are.” His eyes flicked up and down her figure. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you. Sigid found it for me.” She searched his face, uncertain how he’d absorb her next revelation. “She said it was your mother’s.”
His mouth dropped open ever so slightly, and he let out a breath. “It suits you. I wish she could be here, if only to see that the family is in good hands. That we’re going to be all right.” He took her hand. “And we are going to be all right, Arynne. I know this is a lot happening all at once, but we’re going to figure it out—together.”
Her heart warmed to him. “Together.”
He took a step towards the door.
“Wait!” she gasped.
He froze, gazing at her.
Before she completed the ceremony, there was something she needed to know. She stood on her toes and slipped her arm around his neck. He stiffened. Closing her eyes and forcing any memories of Kay out of her mind, she pressed her lips to his.
His muscles melted beneath her embrace. His breath warmed her lips, pleasantly. She withdrew, opening her eyes to stare into his.
“Wow,” he whispered. “I didn’t expect that. I guess I need to get used to that, too.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you at the ceremony?”
She nodded. Emptiness settled in her chest, but she forced a smile. “You will.”
He opened the door and paused. “Oh, Sigid’s back.” He held the door open until the maid had entered, carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups. “I’ll leave you ladies to your tea.”
Sigid bowed over her tray.
Olyn departed, and Sigid set the tea things on the little table in front of the fire. “Getting a sample of the main course before the meal, if you know what I mean?” Sigid winked.
“No, I don’t know what you mean.” Arynne rolled her eyes and plopped in a chair.
Pleasant.
The kiss had been pleasant but only pleasant. Nothing wrong with it but also nothing right. No passion, no connection ... no love. Instead of firming her resolve, it had kicked her in the chest and left her in the ditch, uncertain if she could go on.
Kay, I’ll marry him. I’ll be good to him, but Kay, I can’t love him. Not the way I love you. I just can’t.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kay leaned against the wall of the antechamber off the ceremony room, trying to think of anything but what was about to happen. A goal made much more difficult by the pacing, mumbling, fidgeting presence of his brother.
Traditionally the two halves of the future heartbond were to wait in separate rooms while the mender assigned to the ceremony made the last minute preparations and consulted with the Ever. Olyn had requested Kay’s presence for emotional support, but that apparently just meant being a silent observer as Olyn slowly worried himself into an early grave. All attempts to engage him in light conversation or assure him that everything would be all right had gone nowhere. Even Clindt, who was usually a calming influence, had only received a sickly smile from Olyn when the mender had popped in to inform them that he needed to commune with the Ever before beginning the ceremony, and it would be a little longer until they’d start.
Mending was by far the most spiritual of the magical practices in Frorheim. It was said that if a mender left the true path and turned towards sorcery, they’d sever their connection with the Ever and their powers could from that point only be used to harm rather than heal. While the other magical abilities could be supported by dark spirits, mending could not. In spite of this, Clindt was certainly the most grounded and practical of the extended royal family. If he hadn’t come with the whole package of disapproving Aunt Friya and her connection to Kay’s father, Kay might’ve considered Clindt a potential friend. As it was, he’d learned to keep his distance even from Clindt.
Kay closed his eyes. Grimwolves near the starshards, grimowls violating the Starspire—there had to be a sorcerer. It was the only explanation. While Athan was the last recorded sorcerer in Frorheim, he couldn’t be influencing the mortal world from inside the Lingering Dark, even if he had managed to survive the horrors of that realm for so many starcycles. If Kay were going to root out the monsters, he needed to leave immediately after the ceremony, set up a basecamp at the starshard near where he and Arynne had been attacked, and start combing the frozen wastes for signs of the grimwolves. It was the only thing he could think of that would potentially keep his mind off losing Arynne.
Even now, he could smell the fragrance of her hair, feel the warmth of her skin, sense the pull of her magic. If he let it overwhelm him, the loss would send him to his knees ... though to call it a loss when she was never his to love was in itself a lie. No, he needed to do the right thing, for her, for Olyn, for the whole kingdom.
“I’m not going to be enough.” Olyn’s whisper broke Kay from his introspection, and Kay stood up straight from the wall.
“Of course you are.” He forced a smile.
“No, I’m really not.” Olyn shook his head, face pinched. “I need more time, Kay. When I went to see Arynne earlier this brightening, she was beautiful. Her hair, her skin, her ... her ...” Olyn’s cheeks reddened.
“I’ve seen her. You don’t need to clarify,” Kay said dryly.
“I suppose not, but still, I can’t imagine a more beautiful woman, but when she kissed me—”
Kay’s heart dropped to the floor.
“I didn’t even know what to do. She was offering me affection, and what did I say?”
“I can’t begin to guess.” Kay tried to laugh, hoping that if he made a joke of it, Olyn would stop talking. “Nothing coherent, considering your current state.”
“I said, ‘I guess I need to get used to this’ ... get used to this?” Olyn slapped his own forehead. “Like she were some chore I need to accomplish or a pair of boots I need to break in or ... or anything but my future wife. She must think I hate her.”
“She’s not that sensitive.” Kay shrugged.
“Even if she’s not, she deserves better.” Olyn slid his hand from his forehead to cover his eyes, his chest rising and falling in great breaths.
S
tifling a groan, Kay strode to him and clasped his shoulder. “Olyn, look at me.”
Olyn pried his hand away from his face.
“You’re never going to gain renown as a poet or a bard, sure. You’re plain-spoken and practical, but Arynne isn’t looking for someone to romance her with pretty songs and extravagant compliments. You’re steady. You’re reliable. You’re—”
“Boring.” Olyn snorted.
This time Kay’s chuckle was sincere. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re a good man, and that’s what Arynne deserves. The rest is simply trimmings.”
Olyn wandered to the bench that took up one wall of the tiny room. “I hope I can do this right.”
“This is just the heartbond ceremony.” Kay settled next to him. “You have your whole life to get the hang of this marriage thing, all right? Don’t feel like you need to be perfect from the start.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Olyn let out a long breath then narrowed his eyes to gaze at Kay. “When did you get so insightful?”
“I have hidden depths.” Kay winked, though he didn’t feel it. Somehow misery made him thoughtful. He wished he could go back to being careless and happy—well, at least careless and not pathetic.
Olyn clapped his brother on the back and left his hand resting between Kay’s shoulders. “Thank you. I’m sorry for burdening you with all my doubts.”
“What are brothers for?” Kay smiled weakly.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Olyn leaned back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m probably worrying for nothing. After all, Arynne and I are bound by fate and prophecy. We have to work as a couple, right? It’s destiny.”
“Yeah. Destiny.” Kay kept his head down, focusing on the floor. He imagined himself taking every memory of Arynne—her beauty, her courage, the way she saw him as a hero rather than a failure—and locking them in a chest. After the ceremony there was no going back. He couldn’t allow himself to think of her as anything but Olyn’s bride.