To her intense dismay, however, Laen refused to see her. She stood, trembling, with anger now rather than fear, the heat of fury in her blood chasing away the cold. Taking him by surprise, she managed to push past the guard, walking up to his tent and shouting at the top of her lungs, knowing full well he was inside.
“You had better have meant what you said, Laen,” she screamed, holding onto her fury because the only other alternative was to cry. “Because if he dies out there, it will be your fault!” She raged at the sides of the tent, hoping that he could hear her as the wind blew sleet and snow into her face, mingling with the hot tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I hope you will be able to forgive yourself for that,” she added as her voice broke. “Because I tell you now ... I never will!” She wiped the tears from her face, unable to keep them back any longer as her voice trembled. “He wanted to tell you, Laen. He wanted to so badly. Merde! Do you want him to beg you for forgiveness? Is that it? You know he doesn’t even want your wretched kingdom, he just didn’t want to lose his friend.” She burst into tears before taking a deep breath and composing herself, wiping her face on her cloak with angry movements. “By the way,” she added, wondering just how good a friend Laen really was, and if her words were simply falling on deaf ears. “You might like to know that it is snowing in Alfheim.” The words were bitter and full of fear, but there was nothing else to be done. She put up her chin and strode back past the Dark Fae soldiers, ignoring their taunts as she hurried back to Corin.
Once back in the castle, Claudette spent some time by the fire with a small glass of the stuff that Corin was so fond of swirling in a crystal glass. She had taken one cautious sip, and the burn down her throat had left her gasping for breath. How the hell did he drink this stuff? A moment later, however, and a warm glow began in her belly and began to thread through her blood. She took another sip, and little by little the tension that was knotting her shoulders and making her head hurt began to disperse. She’d barely touched the amount in her glass, but she thought now that she could go and face Corin without crying - or admitting what she had been up to. He’d find out quickly enough, and she’d just as soon wait for that little scene to play out.
She entered the bedroom without making a sound, expecting to find him still sleeping, but the bed was empty. Instead, he was sat on the floor, huddled in front of the fire with a half-empty bottle by his side.
Claudette felt her heart lurch at the sight of his solitary figure as she walked over and sat down beside him. He didn’t stir, just gazed, unseeing, into the flames. She watched them reflected in his eyes, the tawny gold looking as though they, too, were ablaze.
He had pulled on a pair of trousers, but his feet were bare, and the firelight flickered against the strong lines of his chest and arms. Claudette drew in a breath at the sight of him, wondering how on earth she had managed to capture the heart of this extraordinarily beautiful man. She could see him every day for the rest of eternity, and she knew she would never get used to the fact he was hers - if she could hold him. The thought was one the plagued her. She was well aware of his reputation. He’d never been faithful before, not ever, and although she knew how much he loved her now, she couldn’t help but fear it wouldn’t last. She saw the way everyone watched him, desire and avarice in their eyes. He certainly wouldn’t be short of offers.
“Corin?” she said, her voice soft as she laid one hand on his arm.
His eyes moved from the flames to hers, and as his face relaxed a little, she realised he hadn’t known she was there. “Ma belle,” he said, the words spoken on a sigh of relief. “I missed you.”
She put her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his.
“I missed you more,” she said with a smile.
She felt his arms go around her as he pulled her closer. He made space for her and she sat between his legs, her back to his chest as he leaned his head against hers. “Impossible,” he whispered. His breath fluttered against her neck and she felt her breath catch. He was silent for a little while and she just closed her eyes, grateful for this moment of peace with him. “Claudette?” he said, a strained tone to his voice that shattered any sense of calm she may have found.
“Oui, mon amour?” she replied, turning her head to look up at him, her heart turning at the anguish she saw in his eyes.
“It’s getting worse.”
She reached up a hand, stroking his cheek and trying hard not to break down. That would not help him. “I know,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.
He looked down at her and she could see the fear in his eyes. “I ... I may begin to lose myself, Claudette,” he said, and she knew he was warning her, warning her that things were going to get bad. “You will have to be hard with me. Do you understand?” There was an intensity in his eyes that made fear thrill down her spine. “I need you to be strong.”
“In what way?” The words were breathless with fear as she wondered just what he meant by that.
He looked away into the flames again. “You must not let me leave this room if ... if I am no longer in control of myself.” Claudette got to her knees and took his face between her hands so he had to look at her.
“I can’t keep you in here, Corin.”
He shook his head, his expression fierce now. “You must. There are ways to restrain me, to … to inhibit my magic. Ask Eavan, he’ll know what to do.”
“B-but why?” she demanded. She knew he had been restrained in such a way by the Light Fae soldiers who had captured and tortured him. It had affected him profoundly. How could she consider such a thing that would surely bring such memories back to him?
“It is forbidden for the king or any who contest him to use their connection to the land during this time. If I do, I will be considered unworthy and I will not be allowed to stand on the Field of Kings.” He met her eyes now, and she realised why he looked so grave. If he weakened, if he lost control, he could lose before he even faced Auberren. “Do you understand?”
Claudette nodded, though her eyes prickled with tears.
Corin closed his eyes and she could see the pain in his face, the strain of trying to keep calm, to hold himself still, together. “She calls so very loud now, ma belle,” he said, his voice rough. “I am not sure how much more I can take.”
She moved closer and cradled his head against her, stroking his hair. “Oh, Corin,” she said, fighting back the tears. “I’m so sorry, I wish there was something more I could do. I feel so useless.”
His arms tightened around her and she felt him sigh against her skin. “You’re doing more than you know right now, ma belle. You are here, and that is more than I could ever have hoped for.”
***
Corin held Claudette close, feeling as though she was his only anchor to the world. Everything was crumbling around him, everything he cared for and depended on slipping further and further away. Everything except Claudette. If he let go of her, he was afraid he would lose his footing and tumble into some strange netherworld where he’d be lost forever. They sat together, holding each other in the darkness until a knock at the door disturbed their peace. He swallowed down the childish desire to cling to her and let her go and answer it. She got up with a muttered curse and Corin smiled to himself as he heard her tearing whoever it was off a strip for disturbing them when she had given strict instructions for them to be left alone unless there was an emergency.
“No!” she said, her voice furious and angry. Corin turned, frowning and getting to his feet to see what had made her so angry.
“Who is it?” he demanded. Corin approached the door to see Dannon standing there, looking acutely uncomfortable.
“Come in,” he said, not liking the duke’s expression one little bit. He nodded at Claudette to let the duke enter. “What is it?”
Dannon glanced at Claudette, who was seething with fury beside him, and gave her an apologetic look before he spoke.
“It’s King Braed,” he said, his voice dark. “He has d
emanded an audience with you. Now.”
“Alors, you can tell him to go to hell and stay there!” Claudette shouted, her fury something to behold. “Who the hell does he think he is, demanding to see you at this time of night, anyway?”
Corin smiled a little, touched that Claudette was so protective of him and wishing to the gods that it was that easy. “I believe he thinks himself a king, ma belle,” he said, his tone gentle. “Whereas I am a mere pretender to the throne as of yet.”
“You’ll come, then?” Dannon asked, the concern in his dark eyes obvious enough.
Corin nodded and stepped towards Claudette, putting his hands on her arms as she stared at him in horror. “You can’t be serious?” she demanded, her breath coming faster as fear for him made her panic. “You’ve just this moment told me how bad things are. Surely you know he only means to torment you?” She put her hands to his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. “He’s going to gloat over the fact Laen has left your side, surely you know that? He’ll goad you, push you until you lose your temper and your hold on your emotions. He hopes to tip you over the edge, Corin!” He could hear the terror behind her words and did his best to disguise the fact that he was just as scared as she was.
He caught hold of her hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing each in turn. “Yes, ma belle, you are quite correct. That is exactly what he is hoping for, but if I refuse, he will spread the word that I was too afraid to face him.”
“So what?” she flung back at him. “Who gives a damn what that bastard thinks anyway? And after everything you have faced these past days, who on earth could possibly believe that?”
He squeezed her hands tighter, wishing he could just do as she asked, but he was no coward, though he was afraid. He could not give King Braed the satisfaction of believing him too frightened to face him, though. His pride would not allow it. “This is Laen’s father, Claudette,” he said, knowing that was all the explanation he could give. “I cannot shy away from this. I must face him.”
Chapter 23
Laen sat with his head in his hands and Claudette's words ringing in his ears.
It's snowing in Alfheim.
He had known anyway: the news had reached his ears earlier in the day, but to hear the pain in her voice had been hard to take. He knew Corin could not lie about that. The only time Laen had ever seen snow before … He closed his eyes, he didn’t want to remember that. But that it was happening again could only mean one thing. Corin was truly devastated by what had happened, but then, so was he. He didn’t have the slightest doubt that the weather in his own land would be just the same. He could feel the chill of it deep in his bones, an insidious sensation that he could not shake. It promised he would never be warm again. His world had been jolted so badly that he had no idea what to feel, how to act. He longed for his wife to steady him, to tell him what it was he could not articulate, to tell him what it was he was experiencing. But before Océane had come into his life, Corin had always kept him steady. He had been the rock against which he leant when the world became too black. But Océane was too far away, and now everything he had ever depended upon for truth and stability had collapsed, the foundations he hadn’t known he had relied on so heavily, falling away and leaving him shaken to the core.
He didn't know what to do. He never knew how to act once his emotions got tangled. That was what Corin had done his whole life. He was the sounding board, the voice of reason. At least until Océane had come along. Gods, but he wanted to see her, to hear her voice, to see the understanding in her eyes when he tried and failed to say what he meant. She always knew, even when he could not find the words.
He knew he should go back and see Corin, but he could not. He didn't know what to say. He was still so angry that he was afraid he would only make things worse and ... and he realised that it wasn't what he wanted. The trouble was, he didn't know what he did want.
Do you want him to beg? Claudette's words turned in his head, troubling him and making him uneasy. Was that what he wanted? Perhaps, he admitted to himself. Did he want to hurt him in return? He acknowledged that was indeed a part of it, but ... not all.
He groaned. His father had tried to persuade him once again to take the castle, and it had resulted in a violent argument. Laen had never wanted to lay a hand on his father more, but he’d not give the man an opportunity to lock him up for treason. But no amount of fury or mockery before the vile creatures that made up his father’s court would make him change his mind. He’d left with his father, but he would not lead an attack against Corin. No matter what. His father was a bastard, the worst kind of bully who had made Laen's life a misery for as long as he could remember, and he’d not help him steal Solastire from Corin. It was only too obvious that Corin was the true King of Solastire, of Alfheim … Laen took a breath, finally admitting the truth into his heart. The truth that he’d refused to see, that he’d been too angry to admit to.
Corin would rule the three kingdoms, he was the rightful king, and Laen would not dispute it.
***
Océane lay back on the camp bed with a groan. “Oh my back, my ribs! Bloody hell, Carla, no one told me pregnancy was so painful.”
Carla snorted and handed her a mug of tea. “No one told me it made you have to pee constantly, either. Damn, Océane, those poor guards. I think they’d rather deal with the Light Fae than with trying to find you somewhere private every five minutes.”
“Well, it’s not my fault,” she replied with an indignant sniff, smoothing her free hand over her growing stomach. “It’s these roads. Every time we hit a bump, I’m done for. Something will have to be done about them,” she added, shaking her head. She shivered, tugging the fur lined cloak closer to her. Worry for Laen and the lack of any real information coming through was driving her to distraction. That it was snowing in both Laen’s lands and Corin’s … her heart turned as she considered what on earth could have happened to cause such a thing.
They both looked up as the noise of shouting and the clatter of horse’s hooves outside the tent had them both gasping with fear. Carla rushed to grab the knife she had taken to keeping in her boot under the long skirts of her dress, and knelt beside Océane. They huddled together, waiting for the clash of swords, and then let out a breath as they heard laughter outside. A few moments later, a masculine voice sounded outside their tent.
“Your Highness? May I come in?”
Océane’s eyes widened and she sat up. “Bram?” she said, her voice full of astonishment.
He stuck his head inside the tent and grinned at her. “The one and only.”
“Oh,” she said, relieved beyond measure to see a friendly face. “Come in, come in!”
He ducked inside, fastening the tent closed behind him as the wind howled outside. Suddenly the large tent felt very cramped.
“Putain, Océane!” Carla murmured in her ear as she tucked the knife away. “You’ve got to tell me where that place is.”
“What place?” Océane whispered back, perplexed as Carla stifled a laugh.
“Hunks ‘R’ Us,” she hissed. “There is no way you’re making me believe there isn’t one now. Where do you keep finding them?”
Océane sniggered and tried to rearrange her face, as Bram was watching them with a curious expression
“Did you come to escort us, Bram?” she asked, elbowing Carla, who was still drooling and not making the least attempt to disguise the fact.
He bowed, which was a little awkward, as he couldn’t stand up straight in the confines of the tent. “Of course, Your Highness,” he said, smiling at her.
“Oh, do drop the ‘highness’ bit,” Océane said, feeling irritable. “I really can’t stand it. Besides,” she added, wondering how much truth there was in the latest rumours to reach their ears, “it sounds like I won’t be much longer.”
Bram’s face darkened and he sat down as she gestured for him to make himself comfortable.
“You know, then?” he asked, confirming everything s
he’d suspected.
She nodded. “Not for certain, not until now, but as soon as I saw the snow, I knew something dreadful had happened.”
Bram hesitated and she knew he was unsure of what to say, knowing she would take Laen’s part in it all. “Your ... I mean, Océane, I have known Laen and Corin all of my life and I have to tell you this … Corin would never take King Braed’s kingdom, Laen’s inheritance, not unless he had no choice.”
Océane rolled her eyes and snorted, touched by his care for her feelings, but she knew her husband only too well. “I know that,” she said with impatience. “Corin could no more hurt Laen than cut off his own arm.” She paused, sighing as she remembered a very dark night in Paris, what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Believe me,” she added, her voice quiet and heavy with the weight of the memory. “I should know.”
Bram frowned, not understanding what she was referring to, and Océane wasn’t about to enlighten him. “Corin would not willingly do anything to hurt Laen,” she said, saying only what she knew to be true. “I know that for certain, but he has done something. For myself, I would like to know how Laen discovered what was going to happen. He didn’t know when he left Alfheim, that’s for certain.” She shook her head, the frustration of not knowing what was happening driving her to distraction. She had to get to Laen and soon, before things got any worse. “I don’t believe this is just about the kingdom, though,” she said, looking up at Bram and wondering if he knew any more than she did. “There is more to it than that.”
The Darkest Night Page 26