by Diana Bold
“I’ll bring you more, if you’re feeling up to it. Perhaps something to eat as well?”
“That would be wonderful.” At the mention of food, his stomach growled ravenously.
“I’ll make a trip down to the kitchens and see what I can find.” As she turned to go, Sebastian caught her hand.
“Before you go, can you tell me if Rhoswen is in trouble for bringing me here?”
Kaylee’s smile slipped. “Her meeting with the council didn’t go well. Not only did they take her to task for bringing a stranger into Halcyon, they also interrogated the scientist Rhoswen thought helped Trevelan develop the virus. He claimed he did nothing to cause those people to fall ill, and she believes him. Now she fears the sickness at Hawkesmere was a coincidence, and she left Trevelan behind for no reason. The guilt is eating her up inside.”
“She is worried about her friend?” He glanced down at Rhoswen’s sleeping face, torn with unreasonable jealousy. “Does she want to go back for him?”
“I’m sure the thought has crossed her mind. But first we have to wait and see what the council decides to do about you.” Kaylee met his gaze uncomfortably. “They can’t decide whether to keep you here as a prisoner or jettison you into the deep.”
“Jettison me?” He did not like the sound of that.
“It’s a death sentence,” she answered, dropping her gaze. “But Oberon is a man of peace. As far as I know, no one has ever been jettisoned before.”
“So the best I can hope for is a lifetime of imprisonment?” The walls seemed to close in on him as he spoke. A prison is a prison, no matter how comfortable. Hadn’t Rhoswen said those words to him just a few days ago? How true they were.
“I’m sure they’ll allow you to roam freely,” she told him softly. “This isn’t a bad place, Sebastian. You might even come to like it here in time. Besides, you’d still have Rhoswen. She cares for you deeply. I don’t think she’ll let them separate you.”
“I care for her, too,” he murmured, brushing a moon-spun strand of hair from Rhoswen’s cheek. “I would do anything for her, but this complicates things. We came here to find a way to stop my people’s sickness from spreading. Whether Trevelan created the virus or not, people are still dying. I have to go back and do whatever I can to help them.”
Kaylee shook her head and gave him a strange, speculative look. “Well, there will be time enough to worry about that later. At the moment, you aren’t going anywhere. You need to rest and regain your strength.”
“I feel much better,” Sebastian hastened to reassure her.
“Rhoswen needs some rest, in any event. Why don’t you relax for awhile? I’ll go see about getting you something to eat.”
Chapter Seventeen
Miranda accepted a mug of spiced wine from Lord Simon, her heart thundering so loudly in her chest she felt certain he must be able to hear it. He had returned from the coast a few hours ago and everyone at Hawkesmere had been dodging his wrath ever since.
Deep down, she supposed she had been expecting him to summon her, but this late night invitation to his bedchamber had rattled her, reminding her of the dark days after her mother’s death. Miranda had become his mistress so that she and her younger sister could remain in their home, though she had only been fourteen at the time.
He had soon tired of her, of course, but instead of casting her aside, he had unexpectedly granted her the role of healer so she could support her small family. The favor he had once shown her had always kept her safe from the other men of Hawkesmere.
They were not exactly friends, but until today, he had always thought of her fondly. She had a bad feeling that was about to change.
“So,” he murmured, once she had taken the drink and sat down on the very edge of a stiff backed chair in front of the fire. “How is our prisoner?”
She forced her face into an expressionless mask, knowing her very life might be in jeopardy if she gave the wrong answer. “Prisoner? Which prisoner, my lord?” Though she knew the answer, it was a valid question. She had seen to three different prisoners in the past two weeks.
Simon held her gaze, his green eyes searching hers, obviously trying to catch her in a lie. “The blond foreigner. The one who was beaten.”
She shook her head, feigning a look of pity. “Poor lad. I suppose his injuries were just too much.”
“What do you mean?” he asked sharply.
“Well, he’s dead, isn’t he? When I went to check on him, his room was empty.” She did her best to keep a guileless look on her face. “I felt sorry for him, seeing as he was mute.”
“When was this?” Lord Simon asked. “Which day?”
She frowned, as though trying to think. “The same day you rode out, I think. That day or the next one. I am not certain. I have had my hands so full with the sickness in the village.”
He suddenly relaxed and sat back in his chair. “Is everyone on the mend, then?”
“Three are still bed-ridden, but no one else has fallen ill.” Glad for the change of subject, Miranda allowed herself to break eye contact. “Eleven have died.”
“Eleven.” He sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Best make that twelve. Sir Sebastian is gone as well.” For the first time in all the years she had known him, his mask crumbled, and he buried his face in his hands. “I shot him, ‘Randa. I shot my own brother.”
She stared at his bowed head, tears stinging her eyes. Sir Sebastian had always been kind to her. He had been the one person who understood her, and she would greatly miss his company. But she could see how much Lord Simon was hurting. He took his responsibilities very seriously. He must have felt he had no choice but to take his brother’s life, but it had not been easy for him.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I know how much you loved him.”
He cleared his throat several times, then lifted his shattered gaze. “Tell me you had nothing to do with Trevelan’s escape, Miranda. I do not think I could bear it if you had betrayed me too.”
“I would never betray you.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she forced herself to remember the frightened little girl she’d once been, the girl whose virginity he had brutally stolen, condemning her to spend the rest of her life without a husband or children of her own. “Never, Lord Simon.”
“I never doubted it.” His expression gentled. “And I have decided to grant you a boon, ‘Randa.”
“A boon?” she asked cautiously, still afraid to believe she had managed to convince him of her innocence. She kept expecting some of his men to burst in and drag her to her death.
“I do not want Sebastian’s tower to stand empty, and you are the only one who will properly appreciate the bounty of wisdom and herbs my brother stored there.”
She caught her breath, stunned. “The tower? Lord Simon, are you certain?” ‘Twas more than she had ever imagined. The mere thought of having a place of her own, of having all that knowledge and wealth of plants and herbs at her fingertips, made her dizzy with delight.
He nodded wearily. “Now leave me, ‘Randa. I have a brother to mourn.”
* * *
Rhoswen slept for hours, waking to find herself still snug in Sebastian’s arms. His heat warmed her from the outside in, the soft cadence of his breath a lullaby she wanted to listen to forever. She opened her eyes, a bit surprised to find herself in Halcyon’s sick bay and not the huge, tower bed.
The room was dark. Only the monitor’s blinking lights cut through the gloom. For the first time since they’d left the submersible, she and Sebastian were truly alone. Sighing, she shifted, trying to ease the pressure on her hip. She’d been lying in one position for far too long.
Sebastian stirred beside her. “Are you well?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, turning to face him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I was not sleeping.” He brushed his lips to her forehead. “You feel so good in my arms. I have been lying here holding you, watching you sleep.”
Heat blossomed
in her cheeks. His words touched, yet embarrassed, her. She wondered if she’d ever become accustomed to his sweet, affectionate ways. “You need your rest far more than I. You should have slept.”
“How could I sleep? Just yesterday, I thought I was going to die. I thought the people of my time were more civilized than any that had ever gone before.” He made a sweeping gesture, encompassing the dimly lit room. “I never dreamt any of this existed.” He gave a soft, strained laugh. “I am not sure I will ever sleep again.”
“I know it’s a shock. But I couldn’t leave you behind.” The very existence of Halcyon had probably undermined his belief system, made him question everything he’d ever been taught, but she couldn’t be sorry to have brought him here. The fact that he was still alive — his wonderful heart beating strong and sure — made any consequences either of them were forced to pay for such a miracle immaterial.
“Kaylee told me about your meeting with the council.” He stared at her, his green eyes pensive in the artificial light. “So I am either to be jettisoned or made a prisoner once again? I am not sure which outcome to wish for.”
"They won’t jettison you,” she assured him. “You could have a good life here, Sebastian. They might keep a close eye on you in the beginning, but once they get to know you I'm sure they'll allow you access to the libraries. Just imagine...unlimited knowledge at your fingertips. It's what you've always wanted, isn't it?"
Her words filled Sebastian with longing, because she was absolutely right. Life in Halcyon sounded like paradise. But he could never enjoy it, not as a prisoner. Already panic welled within him, and the urge to flee, by whatever means necessary, was strong.
"I have to go back," he told her stubbornly. "You convinced me to help you because you promised me a cure for the sickness. I left my people when they needed me most, betrayed my own brother, because I believed you."
She paled, then moved out of his arms and off the bed, pacing to the other side of the room. "I was wrong about the sickness,” she admitted softly. “Trevelan isn’t to blame, and there’s no antidote. I’m sorry, Sebastian. I truly thought I was doing the right thing.”
“I know you did. But that does not change the fact that the people of Hawkesmere are still dying. If your Kaylee can heal me, surely there is something she can do for the people of Hawkesmere. If you can just convince her to share that knowledge with me, I can go home and redeem myself.”
“We’ve never found a cure for the plague. Having never been afflicted with it, there was no need. But if you stay, perhaps you can work with Marcus and put all your energy into finding cures for Surface sicknesses. Though you might not be able to save the people of Hawkesmere, you could save many others.”
Her words barely registered. All he could think about was the look on Simon’s face when he had left him on the beach. Before Sebastian had met Rhoswen, he knew he had been living a life of incredible selfishness. He had meant to redeem himself with this one noble act, only to have everything go terrible wrong.
“There must be something your people can do for mine,” he cried in frustration. “I refuse to believe your healing technology can replace my blood with someone else’s and reverse the infection, but not do something to at least ease the suffering of the plague.”
“You can ask Kaylee, if you like,” Rhoswen whispered. “Maybe I’m wrong. It seems I’ve been wrong about everything since the moment I stepped upon the Surface.”
She looked so tiny, so weary and miserable. The weight of her guilt and regret obviously weighed heavy on her shoulders. He hated that he had shattered the sweet peace of a few moments ago and knew he had driven a wedge between them.
“I am sorry.” He sank back against the bed, staring at the blinking lights and strange machines that had saved his life. “I am not thinking clearly, Rhoswen. I did not mean to hurt you. None of this is your fault. You did what you thought was best at the time.”
She cast him a quick, startled glance, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “Do you think Trevelan is dead?”
“I do not know,” he told her honestly, stung anew by the realization that Trevelan was her first priority. “Simon was furious. He may have taken drastic measures to get Trevelan to talk.”
“He risked his life for me, and I just left him there. I jumped to all the wrong conclusions.” She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes and squared her shoulders. “I have to go and speak to my father. I need to try and make this right. If you need anything, push that red button by your bed, and Kaylee will come help you.”
Before he could reply, she turned and fled the room, leaving him alone with the whirring machines.
* * *
When Rhoswen returned to the council chamber, she found the room empty. Apparently, her father and the rest of the council had already dispersed for the evening. Frustrated that no one had bothered to tell her the outcome of the meeting, she walked to her father’s home.
Sebastian’s insistence upon returning to the Surface had shaken her more than she’d thought possible. She’d assumed he’d be thrilled with Halcyon, that he’d gladly stay here by her side until the end of their days. She’d imagined the two of them living together in a rare, but not unheard of, love match.
She’d certainly never imagined he’d choose to return to his former cold, lonely existence. Especially not for the sake of a group of people he’d done his best to offend and hold at arm’s length — people who had never accepted him for the exceptional man she knew him to be.
Was it just the thought of being imprisoned that rattled him? How could she explain that imprisonment in Halcyon would be nothing like what he’d faced in the desert?
Arriving upon her father’s front steps, she banished her concerns about Sebastian to a remote corner of her mind and did her best to compose herself. If she could just get her emotions under control for long enough to plead her case, she knew her father would take her side.
She and Oberon had always been close, and he was the biggest proponent of reestablishing a settlement on the Surface. Surely she could make him understand how much of an asset Sebastian could be to such a project, especially if Halcyon’s infrastructure was indeed failing. His knowledge of the Surface could prove invaluable if they were forced to return to Old Halcyon.
When she finally gathered the courage to enter her father’s house, she found an unpleasant surprise waiting for her in the reception room. Titania.
Her mother and father did not share a residence. In fact, their only real connection was their daughter. But today Titania sat upon an elegantly carved, gold-upholstered chair in Oberon’s house, looking every inch the lady of the manor.
Titania turned her cool gaze upon her only child, no welcome or emotion in those clear blue eyes.
“Where is my father?” Rhoswen asked, her voice brittle with the latent anger of their earlier confrontation.
“He’s in a private meeting with Odette and Ealhdun.”
Rhoswen narrowed her eyes at the woman who had given her life but never shown her one ounce of affection. “So you’re waiting to speak to speak to Father, also? No doubt to demand Sebastian be jettisoned for no reason besides bigotry?”
“Control your emotions,” Titania snapped. “Your attachment to that barbarian is quite unsuitable. What did you really think? That I would stand by and allow my daughter to continue to consort with such a creature? Bad enough that you’ve taken him to your bed, that you’ve made a fool of yourself.”
Rhoswen blanched at her mother’s coldness. “I care for him, Mother. Have you no concept of what that means?”
“The Surface people are savages,” Titania said dismissively. “I doubt he’s even capable of grasping a concept such as love.”
“I think you’re the one unable to grasp that concept.” Rhoswen gave a bitter laugh. “Did you even bother to speak to Sebastian? Did you exchange one word with the man who risked his life to save your own daughter?”
“Of course I am grateful for his assistance,�
�� Titania said with a sniff. “I just don’t understand why you had to bring him here.”
“He would have died if I hadn’t,” Rhoswen whispered. “But I can see you would have preferred that to the embarrassment my bringing him here has caused you.”
“I don’t wish to discuss this any further. Your father will handle this once I’ve finished telling him my thoughts on the matter.” Titania lifted her regal nose and pushed out of her chair, heading toward the back of the house.
“This isn’t over,” Rhoswen promised her mother’s retreating back in a soft, controlled voice. “If I have to, I will leave Halcyon. I would give up everything I’ve ever known for just one more of his smiles.”
Titania froze for just a moment, then gave a brittle laugh. “The passion you feel for him will fade, Daughter. Passion always does.”
* * *
Over an hour passed before Rhoswen was finally allowed an audience with her father. He received her in his private study, a cozy, oak-paneled retreat lined with ancient manuscripts and priceless works of art from their decimated island homeland.
He waved her toward the chair in front of his desk, then sank into his own. For a long moment he said nothing, merely studied her with those intelligent blue eyes, but then he offered her a weary smile. “I’m glad you’re safely home, Rhoswen. I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance to tell you that before.”
Some of the tension of the day faded at his words, and she managed to smile weakly in return. At least she was blessed with one caring parent. “I’m glad to hear you still feel that way after being closeted with Mother for half an hour.”
His smile faded. “Yes, well, your mother can be a trial. But she really does have your best interests at heart.”