by Shari Cross
“I wish it didn’t have to end.”
His eyes open and he stares intently at me. “It doesn’t. We will be together, Addy. I swear it.” He reaches forward and brushes a tear from my face.
My heart is breaking at the prospect of what’s to come. His plan has to work. If it doesn’t . . . “I can’t marry him, Drake. I can’t,” my voice breaks when the words that have been tormenting my mind for weeks finally escape the prison of my lips.
“You won’t.”
“I will if it means saving you.”
“You will not sacrifice yourself to save me,” he says firmly. “Besides, you won’t have to. The plan will work. You have to have faith in it.”
“I have faith in you.”
“Have faith in us.”
I press my lips against his, trying to show him with my kiss how much faith I have in us. After several seconds, the rising sun caresses my shoulder. I push him away. “You have to go.”
Disappointment eclipses his face and he regretfully pulls himself out of bed. “We have four more days to get through. Then we’ll be together when we travel to Synereal,” he says while tying his breeches and pulling his tunic over his head. I reach down and grab hold of his grey cloak.
“I thought I was traveling with my family,” I reply, while wrapping his cloak around my bare chest.
“You are, and that includes my father and me.” He glances at me and offers me a crooked smile.
Knowing we’ll have that time together makes the thought of the next few days bearable.
“We’ll be able to use that time to formalize our plan,” he continues, while stepping into his boots. “The King won’t make you marry Charles once he hears of the laws he’s broken.” He spits out Charles’s name with feral animosity. “Four more days,” he says again, this time mostly to himself, as he places his sword in its sheath.
“But during these four days I can’t be seen with you,” I remind him. “You have to understand that. And we both need to be patient.”
He turns to face me. “I can agree to that. But you have to promise me that you won’t be alone with him.” His tone is severe, his eyes hard, but there’s a hint of fear in them.
“I’ll try, but I can’t promise. He’s controlling this game, not me.”
“Addalynne . . .”
“I’ll be fine, Drake. He can’t do much to me considering he has to present me to the King. He’s smart enough to know that I need to be presented in one piece.” As I speak, I watch him become increasingly aggravated by my words. He drops to the edge of the bed and places his head into his hands, his body stiff with tension.
“He can’t do much?” he practically growls. “If he touches one hair on your head, I will kill him. So do us both a favor and promise me you won’t be alone with him.”
“Fine, I promise.” I tell him what he wants to hear, though I know they’re empty words. The look on his face when he lifts his head out of his hands, tells me he knows they’re empty as well. “I’ll try, Drake. You know I will.” His eyes soften slightly, but he still looks worried.
“I know you will, Addy. And I want you to understand that when I get frustrated and angry, it’s not with you. None of this is your fault.” He runs his thumb along my cheek.
“Four more days,” I say, as hopeful as I can manage. I wish there was something more I could say to calm both of us, but there’s not.
“Four more days,” he repeats determinedly, before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on my lips. After pulling away, he rises to his feet and slowly makes his way around to the window. He pulls the shutters open, but instead of climbing out, he turns back to me, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. He moves toward me and leans across the bed, planting one more kiss on my lips as his fingers hook underneath the fabric of the cloak. Swiftly, he pulls it off me, leaving me completely exposed. “I’ll be needing this now,” he says with a smirk. He backs away to the open window, gazing lazily over my body before turning around and jumping out.
* * *
Readying myself for the day is tedious, considering what the day has in store. Charles is coming back, and knowing I have to see him makes my skin crawl. I search among my dresses for my most unflattering one. Finally, I find it—dark brown, high neckline, billows out from right under the bust. It’s perfect. Next, I go to the mirror to check my hair. Charles prefers it curled or braided. I’ll leave it straight. Now that I’m ready, I lie back on my bed and breathe in the scent of Drake that still lingers on the pillows and blankets. His scent makes my chest ache. I already miss him, and he hasn’t even been gone an hour. Four more days.
“Addalynne,” my mother lightly calls and slowly opens my door. “Oh, good. You’re dressed.” She steps fully into my chambers and shuts the door behind her. “Charles is here,” she whispers. My stomach responds by tying up in knots.
“I’ll be right out,” I say with a controlled smile that takes all my strength to maintain until she leaves. Once the door shuts, I roll over and close my eyes. One . . . two . . . three . . . I count to one hundred, trying to delay the inevitable, as well as calm myself. It’s no use. Familiar waves of nausea return to my stomach.
I make my way into the entry of our home and find my family standing around the fireplace. Charles is speaking with my father about business at the manor, his rich navy cloak fastened around his shoulders by a round silver pin. When he sees me, his mouth curls up into a smile. I force one on my face as well, but it feels like a grimace.
“Addalynne!” He walks toward me and pulls me into his arms. It takes a moment for me to remember that I should be embracing him as well, instead of letting my arms hang limply at my sides. I return the embrace and let him hold me against him while he tells me how much he missed me. Yes, I’m sure you’ve been very lonely without me to throw around.
Charles finally steps away from me, taking only my hand in his, and continues to ramble on to my parents about how he found what he thought was a promising trail, but unfortunately uncovered no sign of the Hunts or the hellion. Surprise, surprise.
“What are those?” my brother interrupts Charles’s lies. Charles looks at Gregory, and Gregory motions with his chin toward a pile of wooden boxes by the door.
“Those are gifts for your sister,” Charles responds and pulls me toward them. “They’re the dresses I bought for you, including your wedding dress.” He looks at me with a curious smile, gauging my reaction. I wonder how angry he would become if I were to vomit all over his pretty navy cloak.
“Thank you, Charles. I can’t wait to see them. Especially my wedding dress,” I reply, my voice strained with false sweetness as I paste an artificial smile on my face.
“You’re most welcome,” he says before placing a chaste kiss on my forehead. “Unfortunately, I have to be leaving. I have much to attend to.” He turns to face my parents. “However, there’s something I need to discuss with you first.”
“Of course,” my father replies. “What is it?”
Charles’s face takes on a look of despair. “My father has fallen ill and will no longer be traveling with me to Synereal.”
My father’s eyes widen in surprise and concern. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He over-exerted himself on our trip, and is now fighting off a terrible fever. And, though I’m saddened that he won’t be there for our wedding, I refuse to delay. However, due to the change in plans, I’ve decided that I would like Addalynne to accompany me on the travels to Synereal instead. With the hellion’s attack on Addalynne, and the recent disappearances, I want to be sure that my future bride is safe by my side. I will likely lose my father soon. I can’t risk losing her as well.”
His words leave me breathless, causing my vision to shift out of focus. I can’t be forced to accompany him. I’m supposed to travel with my family and Drake. We’re supposed to have that time to be together, to make our plans. I force myself to breathe through the panic, desperate to maintain a state that can at least pass for complacen
cy.
“We can keep her perfectly safe. We are her family and she belongs with us on these travels.” Gregory’s voice rings through my ears, trembling with his anger. He pushes himself off the wall and takes several steps toward Charles.
Father shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat. “What Gregory meant to say is that we are all deeply saddened to hear about your father. He’s a great friend, and we’ll be praying that he makes a full recovery. However, Gregory is right. You don’t need to worry about Addalynne while she’s with us, my Lord. She’ll be perfectly safe.” My father’s voice is filled with remorse as he speaks, his body hunched with sorrow.
“I do believe that you would keep her safe, Robert, but I’m more comfortable having her with me and my guards. I hope you understand.” Charles’s words are firm. He has no intention of discussing the issue further. He’s only informing my family that I will be accompanying him, not asking.
“Also, I have business to attend to along the way,” he continues. “So Addalynne and I will be leaving in two days.”
It feels as though I have drifted out of my body and am watching myself stand stoically by Charles while my world once again comes crashing in around me. This can’t be happening. I was barely going to make it through four more days. Now . . . now I can’t . . .
“I understand your desire to keep her safe, but do understand our hesitation.” Gregory’s cynical voice draws my attention away from my self-pity. “You’re not married to her yet. Traveling alone with her isn’t proper, and my sister’s reputation will be at stake.” Gregory’s voice is firm and persuasive. He may have said the only words that will get me out of this.
Charles’s eyes are slightly squinted, his lips pursed, as he ponders Gregory’s words.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he says. The relief floods into me. “I must be going now,” Charles continues, “It was wonderful to see you all.” He nods toward my family, and then he sets his gaze upon me. “Addalynne, I would like to dine together this evening. Even though my father is ill, my head guard, Henry, will be there to chaperone,” he lies, obviously trying to pretend to be a gentleman in front of my family. “I’ll send for you at dusk.” The look in his eyes when he addresses me sends a sense of foreboding through me. Being alone with Charles is awful enough, but now it’s worse. Now it also means I’m breaking my promise to Drake.
* * *
The dresses are beautiful. Of course they are. But they’re contaminated. They reek of his touch, his influence. I can’t stand them. I lift up the blue one, the one my mother suggested I wear this evening. It’s made of deep blue satin and has a squared and low neckline, followed by what appears to be a rather fitted bodice leading to a long, full skirt. The sleeves are long and billowy, flowing down past my hands.
It’s not only beautiful—it’s stunning, emphasizing my curves bringing out the color in my lips and cheeks. My dark delicately braided hair appear as black as a raven. If only it were Drake I was wearing it for and not Charles. I study the matching blue ribbon that Mother weaved through my hair while she braided it. The pattern is delicate, but erratic as it crosses over and under. It’s supposed to be flowing with the hair, but I can’t help but feel as though it’s trying to escape.
The ride over to the manor is extremely short, and, all too soon, one of the guards is taking me by the arm and escorting me inside. I find Charles waiting in front of the oversized fireplace. His back is to me and the light around him dances frantically, a duet of orange light and black shadows. From this distance, with him dressed entirely in black, the fire seems to be consuming him.
“Don’t linger by the doorway, Addalynne. I truly detest that little habit of yours,” he comments, while continuing to stare into the flames. All my senses are screaming at me to turn and run right back out the door. Instead, I slowly make my way toward him, my gaze on my elongated shadow. For some reason it gives me comfort, making me feel less alone, less vulnerable.
I come to a stop several feet behind him, close enough to feel the sweltering breath of the flames, but far enough to evade the chill of his proximity.
“Tell me, Addalynne. How did you spend your days while I was away? Did you do anything of interest?”
Panic grabs hold of me. Does he know? How could he know? We were so careful. He turns to face me, his eyes interrogative, as he waits for my response.
“I ran errands in the market for my mother and caught up on some reading. Nothing of much interest,” I respond blandly.
He studies me, deciding whether or not to believe my words. A sedated smile spreads across his face and a single chuckle escapes his lips. “Well, I promise you’ll have an interesting evening tonight. In fact, I have a surprise for you, but it will have to wait until after supper. Shall we?” He motions his arm toward the banquet table that has been set up for our meal. The table is decorated with bouquets of purple tulips and golden candles. There’s an array of roasted lamb, breads, and fresh fruits and vegetables. If I weren’t so disgusted with the company, I might actually enjoy this meal. Instead, I push my food around in uncomfortable silence while we eat.
“You know, Addalynne, throughout my life I’ve learned a lot about people.” Charles finally fills the silence, his voice carrying easily across the elongated table. I glance up and see that his eyes are set on me. They look black from this distance, with little sparks of fire dancing in their centers, reflecting the flickering flames of the candles that decorate the space in front of him. “I’ve watched them go about their daily lives and watched them squirm under my subordination. It’s easy to rule someone. All you have to do is find out what controls them. For some it’s money, for others power and social standing, and for others it’s love or fear. And in all actuality, I have come to believe that love and fear often go hand in hand. Take you, for instance. Your love for the orphan causes you to fear any harm coming to him. It’s what allows me to control you. If you didn’t love him, I wouldn’t be able to use him against you.”
“I don’t love him.”
He chuckles darkly, slowly spinning the stem of his goblet in his hand, his eyes never leaving my face. “Nice try, Addalynne, but I know you love him. It took me almost no time to figure that out. Your love for each other was glaringly obvious from the first day I saw you in the market. It’s interesting to me that neither of you realized it at that time and yet I did. Don’t take it personally though. I’m much better at reading people than you are.” He stops spinning the goblet, his eyes narrowing, observing my vacant reaction to his words. “It doesn’t bother me that you love him. I don’t need a relationship built on love—only obedience. And it’s so much easier to make you obedient with him around.”
I swallow the bile that has risen into the back of my throat, burning its way back down with its bitterness. He speaks of my love for Drake as though it amuses him. Of course it does. It’s amusing because it gives him control over me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. He’s right about people. If I didn’t have anyone in my life whom I loved, I wouldn’t have anything to fear.
“If you’re done pretending to eat, I would love for you to accompany me into the study,” he says, before swallowing what’s left of his wine and rising to his feet.
“If you’re done speaking, I would love to,” I reply contemptuously as I, too, rise to my feet. I’m sure that will earn me a slap, but the irritation in his eyes makes it worth it.
He raises one eyebrow. “Careful, Addalynne. You don’t want to anger me right before I give you your surprise, now do you?” A taunting smile plays on his lips. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of my silence, but I can’t form any words. The thought of a surprise from him has me quieted with apprehension.
I follow him into the study, my fingers growing cold. I’ve never been in here before, but I’m not surprised by the nauseating extravagance. The grey stone walls of the study are mostly covered by tapestries of black cloth and gold trim, each one adorned with the Berrenger family crest; a winged lio
n. On the left wall there’s an oversized mirror, trimmed with gold. Inside the glass of the mirror, the reflection of a large fireplace dances. I turn toward the fireplace, on the wall to my right, and let my eyes graze over the golden mantel. It has the same winged lion from the crest carved intricately into it, its wings elongated and wrapping around the side of the fireplace. In the middle of the study there are several wooden chairs adorned with gold velvet cushions, and a single wooden table on which several dimly lit candles sit. The study is so overrun with detail that it takes me a moment to notice the grey-haired man who is standing in the far right corner, under one of the tapestries.
The man is dressed in a long, black and white, floor length surcoat, and as my gaze goes to the golden pendant he’s wearing around his neck, Charles speaks. “This is Prestur Medriack. He’s here to marry us.”
Chapter 26
HER
Charles’s voice storms in my head, his words repeating themselves disjointedly until I find my voice.
“But we’re to be married in Synereal.” My words are breathless, desperate.
“Yes, but today your brother made me aware of the complications with that particular plan. He was right. It’s not proper for you to travel with me when we’re not yet married, and I must have you with me. So I called upon my good friend, Prestur Medriack, and asked him to travel from Tacitus and marry us. Luckily for us, he was able to make the short journey immediately.” Charles’s face holds the smirk of success.
I close my eyes, unable to look at him or the Prestur. “We should wait for the King. You are the one who asked him to host our wedding, and he’s gone through a lot of trouble preparing for it. We can’t cancel on him now. We have to wait for the King!”
Charles’s cold hand grasps my shoulder and he spins me around to face him. A pleased sneer affixes on his face, his eyes engulfed with amusement. He’s enjoying every moment of destroying me. It’s as though a single stitch is holding me together and I can feel it pulling, shredding. I’m seconds away from becoming completely undone.