by Bone, K. L.
Mara sighed. “Let me guess, there is some new starlet who one of our more recent recruits is just dying to meet?”
“Meryl Streep is hardly a new starlet.
“Who?”
“She’s only been nominated for more Academy Awards than any actress in history! You know, the actress?”
Mara stared at him with cold eyes. Jonathan lowered his gaze. “You will take these,” she held out the two requests she had selected from among the pile, “to Sub-Captain Brendan. That will be all.” Jonathan gave a brief nod and then bowed at the waist before turning to leave the room. He walked quickly down the stone corridor and down several flights of stairs. As expected, he found Brendan seated in front of a large desk in the ground-floor study. He walked forward and placed the two papers on the edge of the desk.
“Let me guess,” Brendan stated without looking up from his papers. “She turned you down on the Jennifer Lawrence request.”
Jonathan sighed. “I even tried telling her it was Meryl Streep.”
Brendan gave a soft chuckle. “You should have tried Kate Middleton instead.”
“Yeah, but then she might have taken it herself.”
“Not likely. Elizabeth perhaps, but not Kate.”
“Really? Not even for a Princess of England?”
Brendan shook his head. “Sometimes I forget how much younger you are than the rest of us. The last time Mara served on a human guard detail was for Queen Victoria on her wedding day.”
“Really? That must have been an honor.”
“Actually, she was named Duchess of Argyll and Marquesa of Kintyre. She still may have turned down the request, if a few castles had not been attached to the title. Mara has always had a soft spot for the Scottish coast.”
“Look,” Jonathan said. “Did something happen? She seems a little…”
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Brendan replied. “Just have all queries brought to me for the next few days.”
Jonathan paused for a moment as though in consideration. “How can I do my job effectively if I am unaware of what is going on?”
“Leave it alone, Jon.” He shook his head. “This is not something you want to become involved with—trust me.”
Jonathan gave a nod before turning to leave the room with an air of frustration with which Brendan was all too familiar. Mara had spilled a great deal of blood over the years in order to protect both her charges and the men who served her, but never more than for the protection of the one man she never should have been required to protect. Brendan had entered the guard a few years after the Princess had died. In the centuries between his joining of the Queen’s Guard and taking the vow of the Black Rose, he had never seen Edward act in a leadership role. It had been Mara who had placed herself again and again between the ravings of the Queen and men who strove to serve her. Mara, whose blood had stained the walls of the palace chambers as she substituted herself in the placement of her men.
Brendan had never understood Mara’s endless devotion to the Captain. Yet, neither had he been surprised when Mara had fled the castle in the middle of a stormy night to rush to the side of a man whose name she had refused to so much as speak for the last six hundred years. Phillip had once attempted to explain the relationship. “They are two halves of the same soul,” Phillip had said. “Without an ounce of light between them.”
“But why?” he had asked. “Why would she keep going back to that? What is it about Edward? He’s not—”
“It wasn’t always so.” Phillip reminded him again that he was younger than the others. “When the Queen sent him away, he was gone for twenty-five years. On the ten-year anniversary of his disappearance, I attempted to force the reality upon Mara that he would never return. I tried again ten years later, but she refused to believe it. She was right of course, but there was no reason to believe it. It was beyond stubbornness. Yet, to this day, I can’t help but wonder if it was not something more…if their souls are not truly intertwined.”
Brendan sighed as the memory receded. He had spent half a millennium watching Mara punish herself for events that occurred long ago. He stood silently as she locked herself away from the world, attempting in vain to forget the horrors of those dark nights. Yet, on those rare occasions when she did emerge, it was always to Edward that her infrequent questions would eventually turn. In recent years she would occasionally turn on the news during the royal press conferences, her eyes searching for the man who was always pictured on the camera’s edge, just to the right of the Queen.
Brendan gave a heavy sigh and then called for the twins, Aiden and Brian. When they arrived, they gave a brief bow. Brendan cleared his throat. “I have two assignments for Guardship. I know that it has been a few years since either of you have left the grounds, so I thought you might want an assignment.”
“We would be happy to take it,” Aiden replied.
“Sure,” Brian said, echoing his brother’s sentiment.
“Good, then I am sending you both to Washington, D.C.” He handed them Mara’s signed Order of Guardship. “You will report to Agent Barstow upon your arrival and then report for secret service detail.”
“Secret service?” Aiden inquired. “You mean…for the President?” Brendan nodded. “Seriously? Awesome!”
Brendan drew a deep breath. “I would refrain from allowing Captain Mara to hear you say so. Do we need a lesson on proper etiquette before I send you off to guard the President of the United States?”
The brothers turned to each other and exchanged a glance. “No, Captain,” they said in an eerie unison that only twins seem to possess.
Brendan dismissed them with a wave. It would be good to get the younger members away from the grounds for a few days. Mara was never in a good mood after an encounter with Edward, and their youthful antics would be sure to keep her there even longer. He returned to his chair and began the daunting task of working through the daily e-mails when Jonathan knocked on the door.
“Forgive the disturbance,” he said to the Sub-Captain. “But Lord Garreth, Sub-Captain of the Ciar Court Guard, is requesting an audience.”
Garreth slid his chair to the opposite side of the desk and placed his hand on the black phone. “Put him through.”
“No, Captain. He is here.”
“Here?”
“Yes, my Lord. He awaits you in the foyer.”
Chapter XXII
The night was quiet in the upper level of the Black Rose castle. On the large, four-post bed, Mara lay in a deep slumber. Her body moved from left to right, stirred in its sleep by unquiet dreams. It was always like this, seeing Edward. Ever since she was nineteen and the Queen had sent him away for all those years.
It had been a rare and beautiful day when Edward had surprised Mara with a knock on her door. “Would you care to join me for lunch?”
“I’d love to,” she replied. He led her from the underground palace and into the sunshine above.
“I thought we might partake in the garden.”
Mara followed him around the royal grounds until they reached the royal rose garden. Among a sea of purples and red, Edward led Mara to a large blanket. Moments later, servants arrived with an assortment of meats, cheeses and wine. Mara had sipped slowly on the dark red liquid, savoring the taste only half as much as the company. They spoke about a play that Mara had seen several weeks before, and a book of poetry which she had recently come to adore. “It’s a new tale about a mythical King of Britain, who rules through valor, honor and chivalry,” Mara told him, reaching a hand forward to caress the side of his face. “I felt like I was reading a story about you.” She offered a smile.
For a moment, Edward retuned that smile, then he stood from the blanket. He motioned to the servants who collected the remains of their meal and then quickly fled the scene, leaving Edward and Mara alone in the large garden. He then offered her his hand, slowly pulling her to her feet. “Take a walk with me, my Lady?”
She smiled and stepped forward when he
tightened his grip on her hand. She met his gaze as he began to walk her down the path, the sweet aroma of roses perfuming the air. Edward did not speak as they walked, but instead led her forward silently, only the occasional bird disrupting the tranquility surrounding them. When they reached the edge of a small stream, the water was so clear that she could see the violet of her eyes reflected in its gentle current. It was here, on the edge of the water, that Edward finally paused. Mara turned to face him and saw confusion in his dark eyes. “Edward?”
He reached his hand forward, caressing her cheek. Her words ceased as his eyes seemed to search hers. “Edward,” she said, more softly than before.
It was then, in that moment, that Edward leaned forward and kissed her for the very first time.
The wind blew across the garden, rustling through the leaves and swaying the roses back and forth in its cool breath. Edward pulled back slowly from the kiss. The smile on Mara’s face was enough to break his heart. “I’m leaving.”
Mara’s smile faded as though in slow motion. “What?”
“I came to tell you that I am leaving.”
“What?”
“I am leaving,” he said a third time. “The Queen has ordered me to the East.”
The ground seemed to shift under Mara’s feet. She took a step forward, but stumbled. Edward placed his hand upon her left arm to steady her. Her heart pounded in her chest. “You brought me here…” she searched for the words, “to leave me?”
Edward’s hand tightened on Mara’s arm, his fingers digging deeply into her flesh. His gaze fell to the ground as he said, “I came to…”
“To what?” she snapped, her voice more cross than she had intended. “To make sure you what…leave my heart in pieces?”
“To tell you that I don’t want to go,” he spoke softly, unable to face her. “That I don’t want…hurting you is the last thing I would ever want to do; the very last thing.”
“I don’t understand,” Mara replied. “You are her Captain, the leader of her personal bodyguard. Why in the world is she sending you away? It doesn’t make sense. That doesn’t fit your job description, unless…is the Queen going East?”
“No.” Edward shook his head, finally raising his eyes to meet Mara’s gaze. “And I can’t tell you why I am going or where and,” he inhaled sharply, “I cannot tell you when I shall return.”
Her voice was aflame. “Well, then, what the hell can you tell me?”
“That I have no choice and that I would stay…if I could.”
“And the kiss?” she asked. “What was that? Some sort of…” she searched for the word, “pity? Guilt? A half-hearted goodbye to make yourself feel better? What the hell was that?”
“A plea!” An unfamiliar strain filtered through his words.
“What?”
“A plea,” he said again, shaking his head as his gaze returned to the green grass of the garden floor. “I am asking, pleading, for you, knowing that you owe me no debt nor do I have any right to expect you to say yes. Yet, I ask it of you anyway…”
“Ask what, Edward? What could you possibly—” Her voice tightened in her throat, diminishing to a deep, rasping sound. She swallowed hard. “What would you have of me, my Lord?”
“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t do that. I’m not…” He drew a deep breath. “I do not ask this as your Lord or Captain. I ask it only as a…as a man.”
“Ask what?”
“Wait for me.” He spoke slowly, as though the words were held somewhere deep inside him and had to be dragged carefully to the surface. “I know that this is unfair, telling you this way and…and I have no right to ask. I know that. But, I am asking anyway. Wait for me, Mara. Wait for me and I will pledge to you my devotion, my heart and my honor.” His hand dropped from Mara’s arm as he bowed his head. “I know that you deserve more. But, it is all I have. All that I am; and I offer to it to you.”
Edward continued to hide his face, staring towards the ground, unable to face the woman for whose heart he pleaded. Mara’s thoughts trailed to a world without him. It was unbearable, unthinkable. Edward was her strength, her savior, her love. She couldn’t breathe.
Edward leaned forward and pressed his cheek against her left shoulder. His entire body sagged against her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Gods, Mara… Forgive me. ignosce mihi, mea rosa, mi amor. Forgive me.” His body shuddered against hers and she suddenly realized with a bitter chill he was afraid.
“Edward,” she whispered, attempting desperately to gather herself as best she could. “I don’t know where your path will lead or what task you have been charged, but,” she drew a deep breath, struggling to keep the anguish from her voice, “you are the strongest man I have ever known. You will fulfill this quest.”
A tremor ran through Edward’s body. “Mara…Mara…”
“I will wait for you, mi amor. No matter how long it takes. I swear it to the Gods.”
Edward slowly raised his gaze to meet hers.
“I love you, Edward. All I ask is a single promise in return.”
He stared at her in silence for several moments, fully meeting the weight of her violet gaze. “Name it,” he said in a tone so forceful that it drew Mara’s own tears to the burning surface of her eyes.
“Come back,” she said simply, her heart breaking with each word. “Please come back for me.”
He gave a single nod, never removing his gaze from the woman standing before him. “promitto. rosa mea immortalis. I will always come for you, Mara. Always.”
She stepped forward slowly and then pressed her lips against his. He wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her cheek against his broad chest, as the first of her tears fell from her violet eyes.
Chapter XXIII
Garreth was standing in the large entryway. “What did I tell you?” he said to Nolan who stood beside him, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling. “You just thought the Ciar Court was bleak.” Nolan did not answer, but instead gazed around the vast chamber, seemingly mesmerized by the spiral staircases and the large, red curtains which draped the grey walls, blowing from the cold mountain winds. “Still,” Garreth continued, “there is a certain level of power to it.”
“Sub-Captain Garreth.” Brendan emerged from a pair of large wooden doors on the left side of the chamber.
“Sub-Captain Brendan.” Garreth bowed his head in greeting.
“Welcome back to the Rose,” Brendan stated to his former superior. “What has it been? Sixty, seventy years?”
Garreth nodded. “That sounds about right.”
“What brings you to my humble door?
“Came to see the Captain.”
“Ah. I don’t suppose there is any way that this visit might not involve Edward?”
“Afraid I can’t say that.”
Brendan sighed. “He leaves her in the foulest moods. Little tired of the worst of it falling on me.”
“I know,” Garreth responded. “I remember well.”
Brendan nodded. “What can I do for you?”
Garreth motioned to Nolan. “This is Nolan, a member of the Arum Guard, assigned to the Ciar by Mara.”
Brendan offered a firm handshake to the younger man. “Hell of a mentor you have there.” He nodded towards Garreth. “He was mine, once upon a time.”
“And now look at you; second-in-command of the Black Rose.”
Brendan smiled. “It’s good to see you, Garreth. Miss you around here.”
Garreth nodded. “It is good to see you as well. I wish this was a visit for pleasantries.”
“But it never is.”
“The roses from the Lorcan Court. The ones transported here when Mara took ownership of the castle. Do they still bloom?”
“Same place they have always been.”
Garreth nodded. “Perhaps we should…”
“Garreth!” A feminine voice entered the room. Mara stood at the top of the spiral staircase. She wore a gown of thin silk under an open robe of black velvet. Her hair hung straight
down her back, cascading over her shoulders to frame her face. Her eyes searched the room, fully appraising the new arrivals. Her eyes narrowed as she began to walk down the steps, her black heels echoing through the room as they stuck the dark stone with every step. When she finally reached the ground, she glided slowly across the faded red carpets. “Did I or did I not, order this one,” she motioned towards Nolan, “to remain with the Ciar Court Guard?”
“Technically, you ordered him to serve in the Ciar,” Garreth stated. “Which he is still technically doing.”
She shot him a glare than had made braver men squirm. “What are you doing here, Garreth?”
“Let me show you. If I am right, then you are going to want to see this.”
Mara did not ask, but merely motioned him back towards the outer doors. The group walked together into the brisk mountain air and turned down a dirt path which Garreth remembered well. Nothing seemed to have changed in the four hundred years since he had left the Rose to return to Edward’s service. It had been a difficult choice and one for which Garreth knew Mara had never forgiven him. Hurting her in spite of their best efforts not to—another thing that he and Edward had in common.
“I’m sorry,” he had told her. “But the war is over, Mara. Her memory is avenged. Maintaining this guard,” he shook his head, “I know you say it is for the protection of the realm, but come on, Mara; be honest. “
“I can’t go back,” she replied tersely. “You know that I cannot.”
“Mara,” he said. “You have done your job. You avenged her. Please, put it to rest. Come home with me. You don’t have to do this anymore. Liza would not want you to…”
“Don’t speak her name! Please, just…don’t.”
“Mara, I can’t do this anymore. This living in the past. I…” He drew a deep breath attempting to gather his words. “I need to move forward.”
“Then go!” she had shouted. “If you want my blessing then fine; you have it.”
“Mara I can’t leave you.”
Her eyes closed tightly for several moments, silence filling the space between them. When she finally opened them, her voice was firm and steady. “Yes you can. You have to.” She offered a sad smile. “Just do one thing for me, please.”