“W-what?” I bristled against his ridiculous accusation and I immediately set to defending myself. “I’m not doing anything to her!” I gritted my teeth, trying not to lose my temper entirely, though that was a battle I was quickly losing.
He looked nearly as furious as I felt and it would seem he wasn’t about to let me off the hook for any infraction that day. “Her pain is your fault, Carys.” He snarled at me, not letting up with his tirade. “How can you do this to her? You enjoy rubbing your betrothal in her face?” He hissed, and it took every ounce of willpower not to slap him.
“I’m not rubbing anything in her face!” I seethed, glaring at him with narrowing eyes. “This is my life that I am being forced into! What is it that you want from me?” My voice wobbled as I struggled to keep my tone even, pretending that his unrelenting anger wasn’t fazing me in the slightest, though I was feeling very rattled by it.
“I want you to break things off, Carys, as I keep telling you.” He growled lowly, taking another step towards me. “It isn’t like you couldn’t insist on it, and yet you don’t. He should be with Rhian, but here you are, selfishly hogging him for yourself. You cannot tell me that you don’t know how she feels about him...how he feels about her…” He took another step forward, now looming over me, but I never was the sort who backed down, and that day was no different.
“How dare you!” I glared at him, my once icy insides now aflame with anger. “You know that I don’t want this...you know that I don’t want to marry him and yet you accuse me of being cruel to her on purpose? You truly believe that I would marry a man I don’t love just to spite my sister?!” I couldn’t hold back anymore, my frustration peaking until I spewed every thought, no matter the consequence. “No matter what I do, she will find something to be jealous over! Father made this arrangement with Brynmor, and it is a binding agreement. I cannot break it, and even if I did, it’s not like I have any other prospects! Who am I going to marry here, Ben? Oh wait, let’s look at the line-up at the door. Oh! There isn’t one!” I shrieked, blue eyes ablaze in white hot fury.
Ben’s face twisted as the words poured from my mouth, his exasperation growing as he took yet another step closer to me, chest heaving as he inhaled, struggling to remember his place, though as he stood glaring down to me, there was no hiding the intensity of his anger. His mouth worked trying to formulate a response, though there was no anticipating what was to happen next.
His hand swiftly rose, fingers curling around the back of my neck to pull me against him as he pressed a forcible kiss to my lips. Every ounce of his frustration and his passion were poured into that embrace, and I couldn’t breathe...couldn’t move...couldn’t think. My mind went blank as my whole existence suddenly whirled entirely around my overwhelming awareness of him, every detail from the stubble on his jaw, the faint scent of frankincense on his skin, the firmness of his muscled chest, and the heat of his breath and his lips on mine.
The world fell deathly silent as time itself seemed to come to a standstill, waiting with bated breath as this moment unfurled before the surreal became real once again, my heart suddenly hammering loudly against my ribcage as reality slammed into me...I felt no panic but whatever I did feel was equally terrifying.
He pulled away a moment later, staring down at me as he began to shake slightly, breathing a little harder than usual in his desperate attempt to regain control of himself. His brow knitted tightly, the horrifying realization of what he had just done sinking in before a deeply regretful look filled his eyes.
My breath caught as I took a little step back, my senses slow to return though my mind was reeling as the full impact of his passionate kiss hit me. He kissed me...Why did he kiss me? Oh gods...
I opened my mouth to reprimand him, but in my stupefied state, the only words that came out of my very dry mouth were a strangled, “Why did you do that? You shouldn’t have done that!” The panic that had not been present in the heat of the kiss itself suddenly reared its anxious head, and I shakily tried to push my hair back to where it had been before Ben pulled me against him, suddenly fearing Brynmor’s untimely return.
If his aggravation hadn’t been high before that kiss, it peaked now as he stepped away from me, so many emotions flickering over his face that he quickly became completely unreadable. He glared down at me as though trying to decide just how deeply he regretted his actions and finally growled, his jaw tightening. “It won’t happen again.” He spun on his heel and walked away, stalking off towards the stables.
I felt ill as I watched him leave in anger, the cold pangs of regret piercing my heart. What just happened?
CHAPTER 42
I hardly slept that night, dozing off only to be tormented with dreams of Ben. I could still feel the forceful press of his lips against mine and the taut muscles of his torso as he held me, the scent of his skin lingering uncomfortably as I struggled to still the pounding of my heart against my ribs even though the following day. I felt like my swirling mess of emotions was written all over my face for everyone to see, and I didn’t even know where to begin trying to sort them out.
My ire had raged for hours after Ben stormed off, my thoughts stampeding through my head. He knows I am betrothed! He knows he is my guard! He knows it’s completely inappropriate! All of my rationale for his unseemly behavior screamed at me all evening as I paced the patio, having no shortage of reasons why it was a terrible and improper thing to do. But eventually, my anxiety and fury began to subside, and I sank into a deep pit of bewilderment. Why had he done it? There was only one reason I could think of, but to acknowledge that possibility was not a thought I was willing to entertain.
I refused to acknowledge the remote possibility that he could have feelings for me. I had considered him a friend until he informed me he was a guard and nothing more, the sting of his words deflating any sense of companionship I had enjoyed until then. The idea that he might actually desire me...No. I refused to accept that as a possibility.
If he has feelings for anyone, its Rhian, I kept telling myself. He had wanted this job to be near her in the first place, and despite her betrothal to Pedr, she was always hanging on to Ben. Pedr left because of Ben, and Rhian plainly said she wished to be matched with Ben. I had thought it a ridiculous notion, but now I realized that he had never outright refused that idea. More and more reasons (as flimsy as they might be) that supported this belief came to mind, his constant defense of her and the way he took her side against me so often led me to one irrefutable thought: He only kissed me to force me to stop arguing with him.
Then came the regret, the feeling of being used to get near her. Regret was swiftly followed by a jealousy I had no right to feel. I should be happy for my sister and for the man I had always considered my friend. They would marry and he would become my brother by law, and my heart sank a little though I wouldn’t think about why. His jealousy of Brynmor has nothing to do with me, but Rhian. Once again, I had become unimportant, overlooked as I always had been in Perinthas.
I was completely out of sorts and finally, I felt the overwhelming need to get out of the house, possibly to avoid Ben, who was due to arrive at any moment. Madox and I headed into Lund just after lunch, the curly-haired guard giving me curious glances every few minutes, though we were almost to the Herbalist’s shop before he finally questioned. “So what happened last night?”
My head snapped around so quickly I nearly fell from my horse, the color draining from my face as a cold chill rolled up my spine. Had he seen? Did he know? Oh gods...how do I explain it? My laugh was short and awkward as I tried to hide my swifting building anxiety. “What do you mean? Nothing happened. Why do you ask?” I was not nearly as skilled as my sister in sounding innocent, but I hoped Madox wouldn’t know that.
He did, however; Madox deadpanned at my less than subtle reaction and rolled his eyes. “You are like a very tightly wound spring about to explode, and since you and Brynmor had a date last night, at least until Ben and Rhian showed up and Rhian came st
orming into the house looking upset with Brynmor hot on her heels...I figured something happened. Let me guess, Brynmor told you about the ten kids he wants and Rhian overheard?” He gave me a knowing look and I could only stare back at him, mildly annoyed that our children had been the subject of conversation among the staff long before he mentioned his visions of our future to me.
“Well...yes. Though he would settle for six.” I said wryly, relaxing as much as I could relax today, relieved that he didn’t seem to know about the kiss. “Alright, you are not incorrect, I’m a little on edge.” I admitted, though was not about to tell him why. “We were talking about the future and don’t ever tell him I said this, but we have very different ideas on what’s to come, and I am not sure how to go about this.”
Madox halted his horse in front of the Herbalist’s shop and dismounted, looking up at me with a compassionate look as he reached up to take my hand, helping me down. “I am not going to tell you that matching you and Brynmor was not the greatest idea, but just remember that he is a good man and he does care about you a lot. He will be good to you, and even if you can’t agree on the details, you and he will find a way to make it work.” That was about the very last thing I wanted to hear, but I saw his point.
Madox looked across the market and said, “I am going to go fetch some supplies for Derryth. I will meet you at the Stag when I’m done?” I nodded, not worried about walking up the hill to the Inn alone, even though Rhian and I had been cornered by thugs on these very streets not so long ago. I was armed and I knew how to fight back, so I was confident that I would be fine, and Madox must have shared that confidence, much to my surprise.
I led my horse up the road to the Stag, dismounting and handing the reins to the stable keeper. A familiar horse caught my eye and I tilted my head, the unusually large black mare as tall and large as the local work horses in the stables, and as familiar to me as my own. Tirzah was here, which meant Ben was here.
The thought of facing him right now was definitely not what I had in mind when I came here and my stomach lurched. I had assumed he was in the staff house and coming to Lund was my way to avoid him, but it would seem the gods were having their laughs at my expense today. I let out a long, weary sigh and went inside to get this over with.
I found him passed out in one of the back lounge rooms, sprawled out over one of the couches. He looked dreadfully pale and very hungover, his clothing disheveled in ways I hadn’t thought possible for the guard. My nose twitched, deciding it was possible he was still quite drunk. He certainly smelled like a distillery. I chewed on my lip, looking over his slovenly appearance, really not wanting to wake him and be forced into awkward conversation, but it was clear that he couldn’t stay there, nor would he be able to find his way home without any help in his current state.
I sighed, having only one choice. I cleared my throat, and slowly, one of his eyes cracked open and he let out a long, pained groan, a hand awkwardly fumbling as he reached up to run his fingers through his hair, sending tufts poking out in all directions.
It might have been endearing if I wasn’t completely distracted with other thoughts. He had left me to come here and get ridiculously drunk. Because he made a terrible mistake and kissed me? It was clear that he regretted it, though I wished I knew specifically which part he felt the greatest remorse over. Because he really wanted to kiss Rhian, not you. My cheeks flushed with that stinging thought, my jaw tightening as I glared down at Ben.
His other eye opened and his brow furrowed as he struggled to focus on my face, and I knew the moment of recognition when a deep frown creased his brow and he averted his eyes. With a groan and a creak of the bench, he sat up, rubbing his palms over his face as he tried to sober up in a hurry.
“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.” He grunted irritably without looking at me. He pulled at the bottom of his jerkin as though it might smooth the wrinkles from it before grabbing his weapons belt from the table. He blinked a few times and looked around, muttering, “This isn’t the brothel…” He furrowed his brow in confusion, not quite comprehending where he was, or how he got here.
I decided to pretend I didn’t hear his mutterings, the heat rising in my cheeks as it became painfully clear where he had spent the night, and explained his disheveled clothing. “I came in on some errands and now I’m waiting for Madox.” I straightened my posture, absently smoothing out my dress as though brushing away all of the discomfort I was feeling. I couldn’t meet his eyes, though I didn’t need to in order to sense the dark look on his face.
I cleared my throat again, deciding to address the events of last night and get the conversation over with. Lowering my voice, I spoke with the authority of a noble addressing her subordinate. “As far as I’m concerned, last night was just an error in judgment and nothing more.” I knew very well that he regretted it, and for whatever reason, I decided to pretend it was nothing more than a mistake. “We will not speak of it again and we will pretend it never happened.” I would never forget it, the mere thought if it twisting my stomach into knots and I turned away before he could read the lie in my face.
He pulled his boots on in complete silence, though his poor mood screamed at me though his scowl. I should have stopped talking, but his silence was unnerving and I needed to fill it before he said something that would make all of this even more awkward. Perhaps I knew in my heart that anything he might have to say would not be what I would want to hear, and so I kept talking so that he couldn’t.
“You know that I am engaged to Brynmor, and that it was completely inappropriate, but I also understand that was just something regrettable that happened and that is all. It’s done.” I announced as though my word was law, though despite my authoritative tone, I was too ashamed to face him, so I continued to watch the flames with my back to him. The smell of whiskey permeating the very air I breathed, and I wondered if it was possible to get drunk off of fumes alone. I sighed, annoyed. “Now, you are supposed to be on duty, so I expect you to go home, have some coffee, change, and for the love of the gods, bathe. You smell like a distillery.”
I barely comprehended the sound of movement behind me and the solid thunk that echoed on my right, a sudden flash of steel causing my head to snap towards the side to see Ben’s knife now firmly embedded in the wooden mantle only inches from my head. It wobbled a little from the impact, the ringing filling the silence as my quickly widening eyes locked with their own reflection in the mirror-like blade.
It took a moment for this action to register, though why he did it was something I never learned. He threw a dagger at my head...my mind reeled as I slowly turned to glare at him, my heart suddenly hammering in fear from the near miss and all reason flew out the window. I took a deep breath, ready to holler at him for his idiocy, but the icy, hardened glare he was giving me caused all words to wither and die.
My mouth went dry when I saw the true depths of his fury glittering coldly in his blue grey eyes, and my heart skipped several beats as I realized that Ben was not like our other guards whom I could order around; he was something far more dangerous, a wolf only playing the part of a house-pet, and I was provoking him.
The silence hung heavily in the air; neither he nor I dared to speak or breathe. My awareness of just how dangerous he could be if he so wished began to fill my mind, my growing fear of him keeping me rooted to the floor as I finally found the nerve to break the silence. “I’m sorry.” I took a slow breath as though fearing I had already pushed too far, carefully adding. “Let’s go get some coffee.” His glare didn’t soften but I turned to head out of the room.
He caught my arm as I moved past him, tightening his grip until pain burned through my arm. “Do not speak that way to me again.” He growled quietly into my ear before letting me go. He pulled his dagger from the mantle and re-sheathing it as he followed me into the main room.
I ordered two coffees, waiting at the counter with Ben looming intimidatingly behind me. My heart was thudding wildly in my chest f
or more than one reason: His display with the knife made me realize that I had forgotten over these last months that he was a dangerous man, and his proximity behind me led to a hyper-awareness of his nearness, the memories of the firmness of his chest against mine bringing forth every last detail of our kiss, despite my desperate attempts to forget it completely.
I had kissed few men in my youth and budding adulthood, and yet for every kiss I had shared, there was not a single one that had been like Ben’s. Try as I might, there would be no easy dismissal of it unless illness or brain injury stole those memories from me, and even then, I wasn’t sure if that would be a blessing or a curse. I took my coffee as Jack handed it to me and stepped towards the side, Ben moving up next to me to take his, turning away from me to head to a table in the back. I didn’t have to watch to know exactly where he was, and after taking a deep breath, headed to join him. We should just go home...why are we sitting and having coffee together?
I slowed to a halt just shy of reaching the table. He looked rough, though it didn’t diminish his attractiveness. The knife he gave me turned to ice against my leg, pressing firmly into my skin and acting as a reminder of all the things he had done for me. The memories of our first meeting and our first lessons and how he had earned my trust, and I wondered again at his motivations. For all my confusion, and for all his denial of our friendship, deep in my heart I knew better. I knew he cared, and I knew that whatever truth lay within the murky confusion of the last few days, he was not as distant as he pretended to be. But where does his heart really lie? That wasn’t a question I could afford to acknowledge, and dismissed it quickly.
A Single Spark Page 37