It was true enough. I wanted life to settle down, yes, but when it came to my enjoyment of my impending marriage to Brynmor, there would be no such thing. This marriage was not what I wanted, but despite Father’s insistence that I would grow in my love for Brynmor, my uncertainty in marrying him was growing along with Ben’s insistence that I should have the intestinal fortitude to choose my own mate.
Brynmor kept staring at me as one step after another brought him slowly towards me. The silence was finally broken as he wrapped his fingers gently around the back of my neck, muttering. “It has nothing to do with Ben? Because if I thought he was interfering, I would be upset.” Had Brynmor read my mind? It was an eerie feeling, to have his words echoing my private thoughts. But when I realized that Brynmor’s idea of interference in this matter was more along the lines of Ben wanting me for himself, a quick laugh bubbled out of me. He was so fixated on that idea, but it was ridiculous!
Brynmor’s eyes narrowed at my laugh, but I shook my head trying to allay the worries that were likely growing. “No, he is not interfering.” I said truthfully. “He doesn’t like you and thinks I deserve better, but that is all he has said. He has agreed to let it be now, and will say nothing further of his thoughts on our marriage.” Whether or not he would honor that promise remained to be seen, but for now, he had the benefit of the doubt.
Brynmor looked incredulous at my answer, warily tilting his head a little. “That’s it?” He relaxed as I nodded, accepting my reasoning at last and he smiled down to me. “I know this has been hard on Rhian. We can wait if you think it’s best, but...promise me that we can also move that back up if things are going well?” The fingers that gently cupped the back of my neck slipped around further as he pulled me into a loose embrace.
His cheek pressed against the side of my head as my own arms hesitantly (and very awkwardly) went around his waist to hold him in return. I wondered if he felt as amateurish as I did with this form of affection. With as many women as he has been with over the years? This is all too familiar territory to him. I was the novice in this department, and that made me all the more reluctant.
He murmured into my hair. “You are going to be my wife, Carys. I don’t want to wait any longer than I need to.” His fingertips ran down my back, settling on the crest of my hip just above my backside, and I couldn’t help but stiffen a little with his forwardness. He chuckled lowly and whispered. “Relax, Carys. It’s not like I’m going to bed you tonight.” He smirked boyishly as he added. “Unless you want to?” He teased with a wide grin.
I pulled away and shot him a mild glare at his suggestion, knowing that he liked to tease, but also the thought of us in bed together was repugnant. I had always thought of him as a brother, and this particular shift in thinking was going to take some time. A lot of time, actually, and I felt ill. There would have to be heirs, and that would require an intimacy that I really did not want to share with him. I struggled to find words...something to fill the increasingly awkward silence that hung between us.
Footsteps echoed at the front door and I assumed Ben had returned, though he was not alone when he walked in the door. He was frowning deeply, his forehead creased as his eyes found mine, gently pulling a woman through the doorway behind him. “You have a visitor.” He said gruffly, shifting himself to pull her in front of him and into our sights.
She was hooded as she stepped in front of Ben, though I could see her lips curl into a smile within the confines of the fabric, her hand lifting to push the hood from her head to free her long, raven locks. It was almost like looking into a mirror, and in that split second, the world fell out from under me and dropped me into the land of the surreal, where everything I had believed was gone to be replaced by the impossible. I met the woman’s eyes...they were much like my eyes and her smile was much like my smile, though the cold distaste that emanated from both was hers alone.
My mouth was as dry as the Yehketi desert, barely able to address the woman who entered our home. I managed one single word before my breath gave out.
“Mother?”
CHAPTER 38
Tesni slowly stepped forward, pulling herself easily from Ben’s grasp of her arm, the woman, shorter than I remember her being, though no less indomitable. Mother had never been accused of having a warm personality, but as I stared at her, there was a new rigid coolness in her demeanor that I didn’t recognize, and it was unsettling. Her features, too, were too much like my own for me to consider this woman to be anyone but Mother, had changed some, though there was no denying the truth. “You’re alive?” I finally whispered.
As the true identity of our visitor settled on him, Ben’s darkening eyes found mine with his unspoken demand for an explanation, though had none to give him. I spared him a slight, bewildered glance, shaking my head faintly as I tried to come up with something to say though I didn’t know where to begin. Brynmor’s jaw hung open, seeming to have more difficulties than I with Lady Tesni’s unexpected arrival, though he stumbled over a few words where I had none. “Wha-...Have...Were you in Lund this whole time?”
She gave Brynmor a charming smile “Hello, Brynmor. I see you are as eloquent as ever.” She chuckled softly before turning her attention to me, intense blue eyes sweeping over me in appraisal as her smile grew wider with a rare approval. “Carys. You have grown into such a lovely woman. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was looking into a mirror.” She stepped forward to embrace me, my arms moving around her dutifully, though I couldn’t deny that a strange wariness still gripped me.
“We thought you were dead,” I whispered as she held me, the hug itself feeling strange, though it was proof she was no phantom or illusion. “You were dragged off in the middle of the night and murdered. How are you here?” My thoughts finally found some order as I asked the only question that mattered right now, stepping back to stare at her all over again.
She waved a dismissive hand with a smile. “As you can plainly see, I am very much alive and in one piece. I am here because I followed my family to their new home.” She said with a smile, though any further explanation was cut short when her head turned to the sound of Rhian’s door creaking and the subsequent gasp at the sight of our guest.
The teen flew through the space that separated her and Mother, throwing her arms around our long lost parent in a death grip as she burst into tears. “How are you alive? Where have you been?” Her thin arms still gripped Mother, who matched the tight embrace of her favorite daughter.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m alive and well, and I have returned to you at last.” Her voice quieted as she held her tearful daughter a moment longer, her cool demeanor shifting just a little as she held Rhian, almost as if letting down her guard for a split second before the mask returned. Tesni pulled away, holding Rhian out at arms’ length to study her youngest intently as her smile grew. “My, how you've grown. You are a woman, Rhian, and an exceptional beauty at that. You will have a lineup of suitors to choose from, I am certain of it.”
Rhian’s face pinched at the mention of suitors, but nodded, using her sleeve to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Yes, I have grown, Mother. I am not a child any longer. Come and sit and you can tell us everything. Bryn, will you get us some wine?” Rhian turned to manage a smile at Brynmor next to me, reaching out to link her arm with Mother’s, pulling her to the couch and sitting without releasing the grip on her arm.
Brynmor’s brows shot up at being ordered to fetch the wine, pausing rebelliously before he headed towards the cupboard to get goblets and the wine, muttering something about servant-hood under his breath. I finally pulled my eyes from mother, glancing towards Ben as he still stood rigidly at the door. The intensity of his gaze as he met mine revealed the myriad of questions and concerns he had for this entire situation. For as often as the man is infuriatingly difficult to read, sometimes it is profoundly easy.
I held to our shared look for a moment, finally mouthing ‘Later’ to him, hoping by then I would have some sort of explanation o
r reassurance for him. I turned to join Mother and Rhian, taking a seat on the opposite sofa as Brynmor rounded the furniture to hand each of us a goblet. Ben’s graceful gait took him to a corner where he could watch and listen, all apprehension carefully masked in neutrality once again.
All eyes were fixed on Mother, intently and expectantly as we awaited her account. Her eyes met each gaze in turn as she seemed to be considering what to say. What is there to consider, just tell us what happened! I wanted to shake her as she sat there with her smile as though she hadn’t just returned from the dead.
“Where I have been isn’t all that important, nor is what happened to me, though I suppose you won’t simply accept that as an explanation.” She started, looking at me directly. She still knew me well, it would seem. “The night I was taken, the one where you believed me murdered, was not what it appeared.” She said easily, continuing as though she was simply recounting a shopping excursion. “I was taken by the pirates and they deceived you, making it appear that I was dead in order to prevent any pursuit. I was taken to their ship where I was held, and was treated well by them, much to my surprise. I was brought to Yehket and remained there until they saw fit to let me go, at which time I returned to Perinthas only to find that you had left. I found Aneirin, who explained where you had gone and so I followed.” She smiled at me, then to Rhian as she reached out to take my sister’s hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.
Yehket. Taurova’s sworn enemy whose reputation was built on their brutality and cruelty. Taurova’s history books were filled with gruesome stories that would make your hair curl with the hearing of them, yet she spoke of the experience so easily that I was growing more doubtful. “They didn’t hurt you? You were there for three years and they didn’t ever beat you or torment you?” I asked in disbelief.
Mother gave me a shrewd look as she shook her head lightly. “As I said, Carys, I was well-treated. I was fed and clothed and certainly not beaten.” She held one arm straight out, pulling her other free of Rhian’s grip to push her sleeve up to reveal the unmarred flesh of her arm. “You see? There are no scars or any kind. They were not cruel, despite what your stories say.” I looked at her arm, still finding it difficult to accept, yet the truth was right in front of me: there were no marks on her skin.
I, determined to make some sense of the dubious tale that contradicted everything I had come to believe, prodded further. “What exactly do you mean by...let you go? They just opened their door and said you were free to go? They don’t just let slaves go, Mother. Did you escape? How?” I demanded, the flood of emotions not the one I was expecting. I was angry. Relieved to see her alive, but angry that she seemed so unaffected. Hundreds of stories that claim the Yehketim are evil, and Mother who says they aren’t...I don’t know whom to believe. There was a subtle shift in my thinking in that moment, though I didn’t realize it for months.
Ben’s head turned to look at me as I spoke, his eyes narrowing slightly and I could sense his displeasure more than see it. Mother answered with a calm smile. “Oh, Carys, I know you want answers, sweetheart, and one day, I will be able to tell you everything. For now, be satisfied with knowing that I was taken care of and finally returned to my family.” Ben’s eyes drifted back to Mother, his disapproval shifting into some other unreadable emotion hidden by a neutral look.
Rhian looked relieved and scooted closer to Mother, pulling her legs up onto the bench and snuggling into Mother’s side, her initial shock wearing off and now she beamed with pure joy. Mother hesitated, glancing down to Rhian before wrapping her arm around her youngest’s shoulders.
Brynmor moved to stand behind me, his hand settling possessively on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. I could hear his smile in his voice as he addressed Mother. “I think what Carys is trying to say, Lady Tesni, is that we are all relieved and thrilled to see you here. Welcome home.” He said with uncharacteristic diplomacy.
Mother’s brow lifted slightly at the sight of Brynmor’s hand on my shoulder and his subtle way of claiming me in front of the family, the gesture causing Ben’s jaw to tighten. Mother looked from Brynmor’s hand up to his face, studying him for a moment before finally settling her gaze on me, adopting a smile, opening her mouth to comment, though was interrupted by the opening of the door. Laughter that I knew to be Iolyn’s, followed by a guffaw from Father filled the room as they stepped into the cottage.
Iolyn was barely through the door when he stopped short, seeing Mother sitting on the couch with her arms around Rhian, his jaw dropping in shock. Father nearly collided with my brother, giving him a perturbed frown with his unexpected halting, though the look on Iolyn’s face prompted Father to look to where we were sitting. He froze, but I saw his lips part and heard the soft intake of air at seeing his wife sitting comfortably on the couch as though she had always been there.
She released Rhian and rose as Father stepped into the cottage, moving around the couch to hesitantly come forward, “It’s me, Llew, in the flesh.” She said, holding her head up aristocratically as her blue eyes searched his grey.
“Tesni?” He murmured, every moment of pain he had endured flooding his features as he stepped around Iolyn, coming to stand in front of her. He stared at her, dumbfounded, lifting a hand to gently cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin as his pain shifting into a vast relief, pulling her into an embrace that would put all others to shame, his lips finding hers to pour every ounce of his sorrow and love into a kiss. Her arms slid around his waist a moment later, my parents evidently forgetting we were in the room.
I rose and murmured loud enough that all would hear, but not so loud it would ruin their moment together. “We’ll leave you two alone.” I shot Rhian a stern look, seeing the look of protest on her face as she was about to refuse. I beckoned for her to come with me, but she gave me a defiant look back. I frowned and shook my head, mouthing ‘Tomorrow’ to her. I knew she wanted to stay with Mother, to not be parted again, but right now it was Father’s turn, and with a pout, Rhian relented silently, but instead of coming with me, she rebelliously went back into our room.
I glanced to Mother and Father as they held their embrace, moving towards the door with Brynmor on my heels, though Ben reached the coat rack first and pulled my fur wrap from it, holding it out so that he could place it around my shoulders, much to the annoyance of Brynmor, who narrowed his eyes a little as he grabbed his own coat. Ben paid Brynmor’s irritation no mind, which only served to rankle Brynmor further.
Iolyn might as well have been in a trance as he continued to stare at Mother, finally blinking several times when Brynmor nudged his shoulder with his fist. “Ahh...yes.” He seemed to clue in that we were giving Mother and Father some space for their reunion, and followed the rest of us outside.
It was late October and the night was chilly, and part of me thought better of staying out here, but I didn’t want to be stuck in my bedroom with Rhian and her fanatical journal scribbling. “I am going to finish my rounds.” Ben informed me with a low voice, turning to head back out to patrol the perimeter before anyone could say anything.
Brynmor watched Ben go before he looked down at me and nudged me, “After all the bad stuff that’s happened lately, it sure is great to have something good happen. I still can’t believe she’s alive.” He marveled, shaking his head with a grin. “Well, I’m on duty at dawn tomorrow, so I am going to get some sleep.” He gave me a fond smile before leaning down to press a kiss to my lips. It took me by surprise and I nearly stepped back, feeling uncomfortable with such a show of affection from him. It took every ounce of willpower not to pull away, though he didn’t linger long in the kiss, much to my relief.
Whether he sensed my awkwardness or not, he chuckled as I blushed, possibly thinking I was just feeling shy rather than wishing he hadn’t kissed me. I cleared my throat lightly before nodding to him. “Alright, I will see you in the morning.” I murmured, expecting him to turn and go but instead, he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me close.<
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“Get some sleep, Carys. You can’t stay up all night thinking.” He grinned down to me, and my brow arched, wishing he didn’t know my habits quite so well. “You have a lot of catching up to do with your Mother tomorrow. Goodnight, Love.” He kissed my forehead and turned to give Iolyn a brief look before sauntering down the path to the gate.
Iolyn looked oddly uncomfortable, watching Brynmor for a moment as he departed before shifting his stance to look from him to me. “The idea of you marrying Brynmor is still far too bizarre for me to wrap my mind around. Yes, he’s a good man, but you and him together is just...strange.” He motioned for me to walk with him. “Not that he hasn’t already seemed like family, but it’s still very...strange.” He repeated, frowning with his lack of a better word.
I snorted my agreement and murmured wryly, “Imagine how I feel? It’s like kissing my brother….No offense…” Iolyn barked a laugh and shook his head as I fell into step beside him. I added. “It’s going to take a lot of getting used to.” I admitted my discomfort to him, Iolyn giving me a sympathetic nod of agreement. It will take some getting used to for everyone, it would seem.
My brother led me down towards the pond. “So...Mother is back from the dead….” He stared out over the water as he took my hand, pulling it through the crook of his arm as we walked. The bewildered expression he wore occasionally flickered with concern. “Did she say what happened? She looked none the worse for wear...” He glanced to me only briefly as he guided me to a bench, his usual jovial mood replaced with a more contemplative demeanor. “It’s just that she has been gone for three years. How did she survive? How did she get away? And how is she so….fine?”
A Single Spark Page 33