The princess broke down, the last of her strength and willpower leaving with her mother. They had spent the few months since Bethany’s return fighting and arguing. Debowrah hadn’t known how to handle a daughter turned boy, and Bethany didn’t know how to be the daughter Debowrah had wanted.
Bethany had wasted her last months of her mother’s life worrying about what she wanted.
Can you be more selfish? she wondered as she sobbed into the soiled sheets.
“Princess Bethany,” whispered the healer after a few minutes of loud crying. He carefully gripped her shoulder, trying to pull her away from the corpse of her mother.
Bethany pushed at him, her face still buried in the sheets.
The healer struggled with her for a few minutes before walking to the door. Though she could hear him, his words didn’t register in her broken mind.
“Ah, Sir Caldry. Perhaps you can help me,” said the healer, ushering the knight into the room. “The queen mother has passed away.”
“May she rest in peace,” replied Erin.
“Yes. Yes. I can’t get the princess to leave her side, but I must begin to prepare the body for…” The healer trailed off.
“Yes. Yes. I can’t get the princess to leave her side, but I must begin to prepare the body for…” The healer trailed off.
Erin cringed. No doubt the healer didn’t want to talk about the queen’s cremation in front of Bethany. He nodded before crossing the room to where Bethany sat, her face buried in the sheets, muffling her cries. Erin gave her shoulder a squeeze, trying to draw her attention away from the body, but Bethany didn’t respond to his touch.
Unsure what else to do, Erin forcefully pulled her away from the bed. Bethany simply adjusted with his pull, burying her face against his chest. Erin wrapped his arm around her shoulders before slipping his other arm beneath her legs and scooping her up out of her seat.
The distraught princess didn’t even seem to notice as she continued to cry into his shoulder.
Eight dead.
The poor girl had watched as eight of her loved ones had died.
Erin remembered when his sister had decided to stay with the corrupt lord in Tolad, living as his mistress rather than escaping with her brother. It had felt as though she had died. The anger, guilt, and despair he had felt had nearly consumed him, and yet that was one person, not eight. It was no wonder Bethany had finally collapsed under the weight of her dead loved ones.
The scarred knight squeezed her closer to his chest, hoping his touch and warmth might bring her comfort. As he walked down the corridor, Gilead’s door opened.
Erin spotted signs of crying on the king’s pale face. Gilead’s eyes took in Erin’s burden.
“Erin, take the princess to her room. You are to stay with her, whether she wants you to or not. I don’t want her left alone for a moment. I’ll deal with Miach.”
Erin nodded. Had the situation not been filled with grief, Erin would have reveled in the gift Gilead had just given him. Instead, Erin felt his heart break as Bethany let out another stuttering sob. He continued down the hallway to Bethany’s room, where Gilead opened the door for him.
“I mean it, Erin. You stay with her,” repeated the king before shutting the door.
Erin set Bethany down on her bed, pulling an extra blanket over her shaking body. He took one of her chairs and pulled it up to her bedside. Slowly, her crying eased and she drifted off to sleep.
The scarred knight watched her sleep, his head resting in his hands and his elbows resting against his knees. His fingers fiddled with the lines of his scars. For the first time in his life, Erin didn’t know what to do.
He wanted to bundle Bethany up and steal her out of the castle. He wanted to save her from all this—from Miach, from the politics, from the illness, everything. But would it be a salvation? Would she really be better off living the life of a shepherd’s wife? Erin had grown up raising sheep with his family. He could do it again. In fact, he might even want to do it again.
Slowly, Erin realized his desire to leave the politics and castle life was not just to save Bethany, but to save himself too.
Erin took her limp hand in his and kissed her fingers. Maybe the best thing for her would be for him to leave.
Though she insisted she needed to do her duty to her people, Erin knew some part of her cared for him. It wasn’t enough to make her run away with him, but it was enough to make her feel torn between him and her obligation. Would his leaving bring her peace?
Erin shook his head. There was no peace with a man like Miach. Erin rested his head on Bethany’s mattress, her fingers still clutched in his hands. Slowly, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
Erin jerked away as Bethany began to squirm. She was waking up. Her eyes fluttered. Eventually they opened and stayed open. During her nap her face had cleared of splotches and her eyes had dried. Though her hair was rumpled and falling from her plaits, she looked breathtaking to Erin.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said before he could censure his praise.
“Hi,” she said, an out-of-place smile pulling her lips up and lightening her eyes.
Bethany flung her legs over the side of the bed and stood in one swift movement, forcing Erin to stand too. They stood face to face, so close that he could smell the scent of rose water on her. It was intoxicating.
The princess didn’t give him a chance to step back. She rose onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, quickly bringing her lips to his. Erin was too surprised to push her away, and it didn’t take him long to not want to.
Bethany pulled her body up against her chest, her round breasts pressing against his pectorals. He wasn’t wearing his customary chainmail, leaving every inch of her curves pleasantly noticeable through his thin tunic. Erin wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her that much closer. Meanwhile, the princess plunged her tongue in, exploring his mouth as one of her hands tangled in his hair.
Erin didn’t stop to think as he lifted her off her feet and took the one step to her bed. He half dropped her, half collapsed on top of her as they fell onto the rumpled mattress. Bethany didn’t seem to mind him taking control. Erin supported himself on his elbows as he continued to kiss her. Each movement of their lips increased his need for her. His trousers suddenly felt too small as his blood rushed southward.
Bethany’s hands moved to his tunic. She began tugging at it, his weight against her body keeping the tunic stubbornly in place. The princess gave a great jerk, drawing his attention away from the things he planned to do to her, for her.
Erin froze. What was he doing? He was about to take an unmarried princess to bed.
With a deep sigh, he pulled his mouth away from hers and sat up on the edge of the bed.
“Erin?” she asked.
With a blush heating his face, he looked at her. Her lips were swollen with the roughness of his kisses and a deep blush was working its way up her neck.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Bethany frowned as she sat up, using his arm to pull herself up.
“Why not?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat.
Dammit. He had hurt her feelings. Words weren’t his strong suit, but he had to make sure she knew that he did want her.
“Bethany, you’re engaged. And you’re distraught. You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I am. I’m thinking clearly for the first time.”
Erin gave her a smile, knowing it would look condescending.
“I know you, Bethany. Infidelity is not in your nature. You’ve pledged yourself to another man. You won’t give yourself to me, when you’re still attached to him. More importantly, you would kill yourself with guilt if you gave yourself to me when we are not married.”
He watched her, trying to gage her response. She swallowed a lump in her throat and lifted her chin, giving him a haughty stare. He loved the look of disdain coloring her features.
“I see,” she said, fresh tears glistening in her e
yes.
Erin leaned toward her, knowing full well the mischief playing in his own eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want you. Trust me, I do.”
With those words, he adjusted his legs, trying to relieve the pressure.
“Sure. Sure,” she said, nodding her head and averting her gaze.
Erin knew she didn’t want him to see the tears leaking from her eyes. Though he knew anything might make her cry, considering that her mother had died just hours ago, he didn’t want to be the one to do it.
“Bethany, you tell me you want to run away with me, and I’ll be on you before you can blink,” he grumbled, forgetting the need to be diplomatic.
His words shocked her into looking at him. Erin could tell she wasn’t truly convinced, but he didn’t know what else to say to her… other than…
Erin swallowed a lump in his throat, feeling as though his voice had been caught against its will. He knew what he needed to say to her. Three simple words, but he couldn’t force them past his lips.
“You may go, Sir Caldry,” she said stiffly, despite the following sniffle.
“Your brother insisted I stay with you. He doesn’t want you alone right now.”
Erin could almost hear the growl building in her chest. His Bethany didn’t like to be coddled.
“Fine,” she said, rising from her bed and taking the other chair near the empty fire place. She picked up her discarded book and began to read.
It was a long, lonely hour before her lady-in-waiting came to replace him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lyolf stared into the soft glow of the hidden fire. They had dug a small pit for the fire and surrounded it with stones, keeping the visibility of the flames to a minimum. Wolfric was bringing new meaning to the word “paranoia.” The king had never been so deep into Dothan territory and the signs of stress were beginning to show. Though they couldn’t meet up with the other troops until a certain appointed day, Wolfric pushed his group to the ragged edge. They rose long before the sun rose and went to bed long after the sun set. Even the horses were beginning to show signs of long-lasting fatigue. Like their human counterparts, they were growing thin with long hours of travel and little food.
Like his brothers, Lyolf was beginning to worry about their chances of victory once they made it over the cold Whitecap Mountains, considering their current condition. For the first time, Lyolf understood why the enormous mountain range was called Whitecap. Even in the middle of May, the peaks were crowned with snow. Lyolf adjusted the blanket currently wrapped around his shoulders.
“Hey, Lyolf,” came a voice from the darkness.
Fed’s ghost dissolved into a body as he approached the fire. The prince lowered himself to the ground, sitting with his shoulder up against Lyolf’s. Unlike everyone else, Féderic had improved since leaving Nava. The hard, long hours in the saddle had brought back much of his muscle. Though he was not as bulky as before, lean, long muscles lined his arms and legs. The strength he had now was no less than before, just different. With the lean muscle, Fed had acquired a speed that he had been lacking.
“Hey yourself,” Lyolf said.
They glanced around, noticing that the others were already long asleep.
“Alone at last,” whispered Fed.
Lyolf wondered if his brother had a secret to share, or was for once worrying about those around him.
“You okay?” Lyolf asked, keeping his own voice low.
“I don’t know.”
“What’s bothering you?”
Fed remained silent long enough for Lyolf to wonder if he had fallen asleep. “I have a lot of regrets,” the prince finally said.
“You? I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it.” Another long pause. “I raped Bethany.”
Lyolf swallowed a lump in his throat. This conversation was getting awkward fast. He already knew this about his brother. To Lyolf, it didn’t come as a surprise. He saw a lot of Wolfric in Fed, much to his disgust.
“I know,” he replied. “Kinda put two and two together when I found you.”
“Right.”
“This is your regret?”
“One of many. Believe it or not, I actually really liked Bethany.”
“Me too, Fed. She was a feisty little bitch.”
“Don’t call her that,” snapped Fed, barely remembering to keep his voice low.
“Sorry.”
“I should have treated her better. Maybe then she wouldn’t have run away.”
“Do you know if she made it back to Dothan?” asked Lyolf.
Fed nodded. “Pretty sure. Dad tried to arrange a marriage between us again, going through the proper channels this time. That Gilead man had seemed in favor of marrying Mirabelle until Dad mentioned me and Bethany. No doubt she told them what I did to her. Gilead ended the communication immediately after the offer of marriage.”
Lyolf nodded. It seemed likely they had made it to Dothan. He debated about telling Fed that he had seen them in Nava, but finally decided against it. That was his memory, and he didn’t want to share it, not even with his brother.
“Had I only been kind to her, she might still be in Tolad. My wife by now. We could have been happy.”
“Fed, can I speak freely?”
“Always, Brother.”
“This you, and Bethany, might have been happy. But the Fed I knew back in Tolad would never have been happy with a woman like Bethany.”
Fed considered his words for a long, silent moment before nodding. “You may be right.”
“For what it’s worth, I like the new Fed.”
The prince smiled. “I wish I could like him, too.”
They lapsed back into silence. Lyolf wanted to ask his brother more, but wasn’t sure how Fed would respond.
“You think the king is right in attacking Dothan?” Lyolf finally asked.
“If I were king,” replied Fed. “I doubt I would do it. Our people have seen enough of war. I’ve seen enough of war.”
Lyolf nodded. He agreed. The war was ridiculous.
“What will we do?” Lyolf asked some minutes later.
“As our king commands.”
Bethany sat in her room, staring out the window and wondering why the marriage ceremony hadn’t happened yet. The only possibility she could derive was that Miach wanted to wait long enough to be completely sure she wasn’t pregnant. The princess knew she wasn’t with child. Her month’s blood had come numerous times since her time in Tolad. Of course, she couldn’t say that to Miach or her brother, not that Miach would believe her. He had proven time and again that he held no faith in her.
A faint knock interrupted her depressing thoughts. Before waiting for her response, the door creaked open, revealing Sevar. Bethany forced her lips up into a smile. She liked the little girl, despite her continued silence. Before the ceremony, she would need to arrange a good home for Sevar.
The petite child shut the door and came to sit beside Bethany. Bethany turned back to her window, knowing there would be no conversation between her and Sevar. Whatever reason Sevar had come to her would continue to be a mystery unless the girl put some effort in communicating it, which she usually didn’t do.
“Are you okay?” a little, crackly voice asked from her shoulder.
Bethany looked down at Sevar, not believing her ears.
“Are you okay?” Sevar repeated.
Bethany knew it had come from Sevar. She had been staring at the little girl’s lips.
“You’re talking,” said Bethany as she pulled Sevar up into her arms and hugged her.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“I am now,” replied the princess.
One of Bethany’s greatest regrets would have been to leave Sevar still mute.
“What changed?” Bethany asked as she lowered Sevar back into her own seat.
“You.”
“What do you mean?”
Sevar swallowed as though she were fighting tears. “You needed me to talk. Yo
u needed someone to tell you that it’s gonna be okay.”
Bethany gnawed on her lower lip. “I hope you’re right.”
“I think Sir Caldry misses you,” she said, changing the subject.
Bethany blanched. Where had this come from?
Since she and Erin had nearly made love, the knight had avoided her and she had avoided him. Her mother had been wrong. He didn’t love her. That, or she didn’t understand what love was. Bethany couldn’t decide which.
“I doubt that,” Bethany said, realizing Sevar was still waiting for a reply. “It doesn’t matter. He can’t come with me when I wed. Better to part now.”
Bethany flinched. She hadn’t meant to say all that. She was used to the child being mute, and therefore safe to share all her secrets. As far as Bethany knew, most of the castle used Sevar as a diary, telling the little girl all the things they would never tell their own mother. It was an unfair burden on such little shoulders.
“You know, Sevar, when I marry, Miach won’t let me bring you with me.”
Sevar nodded. “I know. The king has already said I could stay here.”
“Oh.”
They lapsed back into silence. Sevar had spent so much of her life in silence that she brought it with her, like a bag or a cloak. It was comfortable to sit in silence with the little girl.
“Sevar?”
“Yes?”
“What happened to you? Why didn’t you talk until now?”
Sevar was silent for a long time. Bethany glanced down, realizing the little girl was shedding unchecked tears. Sevar sniffled and began her story.
“Before my pa and I moved to Savra, we lived just north of the Central Wastelands.”
“Wolfric’s territory.”
Sevar nodded. “It wasn’t always Wolfric’s. His men came. They… uh… they took my ma. Made my pa watch. I was hidden in the coal shoot, but I could hear it all.”
Bethany flinched, knowing what the child was leaving unsaid. She reached down and took Sevar’s hand.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, half of her not wanting to hear any more.
The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy Page 77