Chapter Twelve
Aithne
I’d spent a restless night tossing and turning, my meeting with William weighing heavily on my mind. It wasn’t surprising when I awoke that my head pounded from lack of sleep.
Although the tears had slowly subsided, my thoughts lingered on my predicament. Torn between two good men, I wasn’t sure what I should do. Staring through the window as the night sky gave way to dawn, I finally decided that worrying or crying wouldn’t solve my dilemma. I was determined to enjoy the upcoming Midsummer event and focus on continuing my preparations. Pushing aside all thoughts, I left for Farnsworth Forest after completing my daily chores.
As I dropped my basket to the ground, I felt a small dash of satisfaction. With so many households also seeking the necessary herbs for tomorrow night’s festival, I was nervous I’d find most of the plants gathered. For the past month I’d been exploring Farnsworth Forest for undiscovered groves. I stepped into my favored one this morning, I was grateful it was untouched.
Old wives tales or not, I believed that herbs not only held medicinal uses, but magical as well. It was vital that whatever I brought home for my family should bring us the greatest fortune in the upcoming seasons. I would leave nothing to chance.
The small enclosed area held what I needed—St. John’s Wort, fern, vervain, and yarrow. The different colors were scattered throughout, and as I located the pretty yellow petals of the St. John’s plant, I knelt beside them. I slid on my leather gloves and carefully began picking. It would do my family and me no good if I rushed and bruised the flowers. They needed to be in the most pristine condition to remain potent.
I began arranging them in the center of my basket and softly hummed a tune. Excitement was building about the festival tomorrow and I anticipated all the dancing. There would obviously be the exchange between William and me and my stomach fluttered at the thought. As the King and Queen, we would make vows before opening the Midsummer Night’s gala with a dance. It was said the magical ceremony determined whether crops failed or everyone prospered. Even though I wasn’t sure if it was true, since the long awaited honor was mine, I didn’t want to let my village down.
Maybe he’ll kiss me again. Images from yesterday flooded my mind, addling my senses. Refusing to get caught up in the swell of emotions I refocused on my task and pushed all visions of William aside.
My nose crinkled while I twirled the small flower between my two fingers. Even though it held the prettiest of yellow shades, there was no disguising the strong odor emanating from it. To me it was a shame—beautiful things deserved to have no such flaws, but my mother would tell me, in this case, it was a wise thing. The plant may hold strong medicinal value, but its other name, Chase Devil, made me shudder. The buds contained the power to ward off evil.
I wonder if there’s a flower that could help me decide my heart, I mused.
The appearance of Hadrian and William in my mind caused me to unintentionally crush the flower in my hand. I dropped it to the ground and noticed the distinctive reddish liquid left behind on my gloves. Not wanting to soil my dress, I quickly wiped my hands over the grass, before I stood. My basket held enough St. John’s, so I turned and spied the purple vervain bush. If I kept up this pace, my herb picking would be completed in no time and I’d have the rest of the day to myself.
“Hello, Aithne. I hoped I’d find you today.”
My breath hitched. Magic truly was in the air if the mere thought of Hadrian brought him to me.
When I glanced up, my heart skipped a beat. There he stood, in all his glory, and —if it were possible—looking even more handsome than before. There was no denying that I found him appealing. My body instantly reacted, and guilt tugged at my heart as William was overshadowed by Hadrian’s magnetic influence.
He was here.
My gaze fixed on him. Happiness filled me, and I invitingly stretched out my hand. There was a brief flash of hesitancy before a smile broke across his face, and he stepped forward. I made room for him, and tried to hide my disappointment when he chose a small crop of rocks instead. He was close, but not within touching distance. A feeling niggled within me—something wasn’t right.
“Are you well?” I asked, studying his appearance. Fear lanced my heart. Hadrian was acting like a complete stranger.
“What are you doing?” He ignored my query and looked about him. “Are you gathering for the festival you’ve spoke about?” He bent down and scooped up a discarded flower. His soft breath restored the blossom to its former beauty and he leaned forward, while gently tossing it into my basket
“Yes. Since my mother’s passing, gathering the proper plants and herbs for each festival has been my responsibility. It’s a duty I enjoy immensely.” I smiled. “I grew up with stories about the wonders of nature.” I plucked a vervain blossom, showed him it, then reverently placed the blossom in my basket and continued to gather more. “When it is treated with respect, we can find great strength and healing. Not to mention, magic.”
“You are definitely a lover of all things magic, my Aithne,” Hadrian chuckled. “I’ve never beheld anyone who could look with such wonder and believe so wholeheartedly.”
“I’ve been dreaming of it for what seems like a lifetime. Some of my earliest childhood memories were listening while the women talked about experiences they couldn’t explain. At night, I would be put to sleep with stories of Fae princes and faraway lands filled with mystical wonder. Once I even ran away determined to discover magic for myself. My brother teased me mercilessly for every trap I set, with the hopes of meeting . . . well, of seeing someone like you. Even my imagination didn’t serve you justice.” I closed my eyes as I softly laughed over my past antics. “My father was always telling me to grow up, but to me, magic is forever.”
“Not everything is. Sooner or later we must face reality and accept that not everything can be viewed through the eyes of a child,” Hadrian spoke; the seriousness in his tone caused me to stop my gathering and look at him intently.
“What are you saying?” A burst of panic filled me.
“That no matter how much we try to hold on, some things are never meant to last—they’re here mere moments before they are gone.” His response was more to himself than me. “We are fools to try and convince ourselves otherwise.”
“What’s happened, Hadrian? Why are you speaking like this?” I abandoned my basket, hurried over to him and sat at his feet. I grabbed hold of his hands, only to have him slowly pull them away. He wasn’t himself and I was frightened. “Why won’t you let me touch you?”
“Who is the man I saw you with by the river?” Realization struck me—my indecision had been uncovered.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Why are you so distant?”
“Answer me, Aithne. What place does he hold in your heart?” His voice was firm. There was no cruelty or coldness there, but any form of familiar warmth was also absent.
“His name is William,” I whispered. I couldn’t meet his critical stare, so instead I studied my hands in my lap. “He is a childhood friend and . . .”
“Someone who wishes for more, does he not?”
I didn’t speak, letting my nod answer for me. Confusion warred within me. This was not how I anticipated our next meeting. We’d never spoken of serious matters—caught up in the newness of our friendship—and I struggled to find our previous joy. I wanted the carefree, flirtatious, and charming Hadrian.
“Must we speak of these things?” Desperation edged my tone.
“We must. From the very beginning, I told you this was nothing more than brief moments—that I would never be able to offer you the things you truly desire.”
“How do you know what I desire or what’s in my heart?” I cried. “I willingly accept anything you give.”
“Truly, Aithne? Is it enough to have a small fling with a childhood fantasy, especially when it seems a future is also being freely offered?” He lifted my chin so he could look into my e
yes, and I found compassion there—mixed with extreme sorrow. “I know your heart.”
“Then you are wrong!”
“No, it is you. Look deeper, and allow yourself to be honest. What you’re feeling right now is not love.”
“But I do love you. I do.” I ignored the anguish emanating from me and closed off the small voice of doubt. I wanted to believe my words, but already small cracks were beginning to form in my reasoning. “Lift the enchantment then. Remove your Fae magic and see for yourself.”
“It no longer holds you. I suspect it hasn’t since the night by the river—when I saw this William kiss you. You’ve been free from its influences, so again I ask that you search your heart. It is not me you truly want.”
“How can you say that? Don’t you want me?” I didn’t know what I was saying as fear took full hold. The only thing I knew for certain was everything was starting to unravel and Hadrian was slowly slipping away.
“You have no idea how much I want you, Aithne, or how I long for some way to keep you. Despite how much I claim you are mine, you are not. It is pure folly for me to hold onto false dreams just because my body demands so—because my heart yearns for it. This cannot continue.” He stood, his form towering above me.
“Take me to Fae. Please, don’t leave me behind.” I reached for him, hoping to hold him to me, but he’d anticipated my move and stepped farther away.
“You have no idea what it is you ask for—the danger there is in your request. You think of magic as this thing of beauty and indeed it is, but there is also a darker side—a malicious aspect that destroys all in its path. You would never survive in my world, no matter how strongly you believe love conquers all things. In this, love isn’t enough. It will never be enough.”
I fell forward, sobs ripped from within me, and tears streamed down my cheeks. Who had I been fooling to think this could ever work? A part of me knew that hoping for more with Hadrian was pointless. The recent fantasies of him whisking me away were nothing more than dreams. But somewhere I had truly believed there was a future. The elders had been right to warn us about entanglements with the Fae—they only lead to heartache.
“But I love you,” I whispered.
“You love the idea of me, sweet Aithne.” I heard him crouch down beside me and stroke the back of my head. “And in truth, I also found myself enchanted. But what we want isn’t always what is real. As much as it pains me, go to your William and commit your heart to him. Give up the hopes of your childhood, and embrace the future before you.” There was no hiding the firmness in his voice as he spoke soft and low.
“But . . .” I tried to argue, hoping to change his mind. One look at his resolved features told me my efforts were in vain.
Gathering me into his arms, he helped me to my feet. Hadrian traced the curve of my cheek with his finger. He looked solemn—as though his heart was also breaking. “I cannot give you what you want.”
Silence built between us as I stood still in his embrace. I searched his face, and knew what he said was true. But I was unable to quiet the overwhelming disappoint. I didn’t want this to end—I wasn’t ready for it to end—and although I knew I would regret my next words, I uttered them anyway.
“Then I take your moments . . . a Midsummer Night’s fling.” Images of William entered my mind, but I ignored them. I was so close to having what I always dreamed of.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” He leaned forward and sighed, resting his forehead against mine. “Will it ever be enough?”
Without waiting for me to answer he broke away from me, and slowly began stepping backward. I didn’t bother wiping away the tears that continued to fall. I just kept my eyes locked on his, pleading for him to not utter the words I could feel coming.
“Goodbye, Aithne. Live well.” And he melted back into the trees. I was alone.
I don’t know how I survived the following seconds, minutes—space of time. I managed to keep breathing, even though the pain in my chest demanded I curl up in a tight ball and escape.
You’re in love with the idea of me. Hadrian’s words haunted me, and I shook my head, as if the physical action would make it untrue.
He was gone, never to return.
With a gasp I left behind my basket and fled.
Enchanted Hearts Page 15