“Why?” Annoyed now, I finally looked up. “Why this and nothing else, when you took it upon yourself to filter so many other things you thought I should or shouldn’t know? And from your past track record, how can I believe you’re telling the truth?”
“I, too, had a mother and father once,” he stated simply.
“That’s not the same thing,” I said selfishly.
You’re Simathe, and it doesn’t count. You don’t know at all how I feel.
I wanted to say that. It was on the tip of my tongue to say that. However, even as I thought the words I realized how cruel they were, especially since the truth was that he actually had had parents once whom he’d never gotten to know, never gotten to say goodbye to. Besides that, he also knew exactly how I felt, better than anybody else. So why was I lashing out at him? Because he was the only one around? Because, subconsciously, I wanted to hurt him as I thought he’d hurt me?
Is this what you consider love, Hannah?
At this, some of my irritation drained away. No, that was hardly loving. Nor did it make much sense. None of this did.
“I don’t know what to do,” I finally admitted, sagging against the doorframe. “How can I put this aside and carry on like I should? I don’t want to hold a grudge, but I don’t think I’m ready to forgive everyone, either.”
He held his peace, the only sounds the dripping rain beyond the breezeway that semi-sheltered us. At last, he asked, “Does the greater good outweigh the individual’s needs?”
I had to process this, even though I understood what he meant. For Aerisia’s greater good I’d been virtually kidnapped from my home and not told the terrible sacrifice I’d have to make in coming here to save another world. Likely, Council had feared that if I knew I’d shut down and be unable or unwilling to assume my role as Artan.
And they were probably right, I admitted privately.
I’d fought hard enough against it as it was. All the same, that didn’t remove the fact that I’d had a right to know this key piece of information.
“Maybe the greater good did outweigh my needs,” I admitted at last. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have been told.”
“A mistake was made,” he agreed cautiously. “Nevertheless, you are the Artan, and though you mourn your family, you will not desert your realm.”
“You’re so sure of that,” I said grudgingly.
“I know you love your people.”
I know I love you.
Gazing up at him, I wanted to say it. He was so close, looming over me in the doorway, the dim, empty room on one side of us and a curtain of rain on the other. Was this was the moment I’d both feared and craved? The rain had made spikes of his black eyelashes, and when I breathed deep, his familiar scent filled my lungs.
Perhaps our bond told him of my focus shift. His hand reached out to touch my face, gently lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger. His obsidian eyes flickered, darkening, if that were possible, and his voice came out low and rough when he said my name.
“Hannah…”
That was all, but it was enough. My emotional defenses were lowered: no, they’d been stripped and laid bare. All of the sudden, there was no longer any room for anger or fear or self-doubt or questions of right and wrong. There was only this moment, this one bare moment, when I felt a pull as strong as a riptide and a need as ancient as time itself. A need that made me practically gasp, wide-eyed, “I love you, Ilgard. I love you.”
“Hannah, n—”
I think he tried to reject it, tried to prevent it from happening, but there was no stopping the inferno now. The fire had caught. Before he could check me, before I thought it through and checked myself, I surged forward, catching his shirt in one hand and the back of his head with the other. Desperate for his touch, his kiss, I pulled him down till his mouth was on mine, and then it was all over. He did hesitate momentarily, perhaps debating if this was something he could or should walk away from, but I wouldn’t allow it. Maybe I needed to drown out the pangs of betrayal and despair, or maybe I needed to physically prove to him how much I loved him.
Whatever the root cause, I placed both hands on his face, holding him there and kissing him a way that wouldn’t be denied until the bait was taken. When it was, I found myself being kissed back in a way I’d never been kissed before, by a man whose strength both enveloped and overwhelmed me. His arms pulled me close, holding me so tightly it should have hurt. Even if it did, I didn’t care. For the moment, it drove away all pain and confusion, and for the moment I saw everything with perfect clarity.
I loved him. I needed him. I wanted him.
We swayed into the rain as he tightened his grip and picked me up, lifting me completely off the balcony floor to kiss me again. I tangled my fingers in his thick, black hair, matching him kiss for kiss, drowning in an excitement that left me breathless. The rain was cold, drenching us both as it poured down, but I scarcely noticed. His arms and mouth were so warm…
“I love you,” I whispered, when at last we parted. In-between soft, quick kisses I whispered it again and again. “I love you, I love you, I love you...”
Had it been up to me, this moment would never have ended. However, I suppose it had to, and thankfully, wiser heads than mine prevailed. With a final, lingering kiss, I felt myself being lowered slowly to the ground. Lucidity returned then, and my breathing regulated. I opened my eyes and peered questioningly into his face.
“Ilgard?”
“Lass…”
I could see his hesitation, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the reason.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “I understand if you can’t say it yet.” When he made as if to reply, I laid my fingertips over his mouth, silencing him. “No, it’s okay. Really. It’s just—whenever you’re ready… I’ll be waiting. I know it probably seems impossible now, and maybe it is, but maybe it’s also crazy enough to work.”
I held his eyes for a long moment before taking his hand.
“We’d better go in,” I whispered.
He nodded soberly.
I led him out of the rain and into the darkened bedchamber, past the ghostly, draped furniture and to the door. I stopped before I opened it to head out into the corridor, knowing once we left this place we’d go our separate ways and this moment would be over, never to come again. Slowly, I turned to face him, to look up at him, wondering how it was possible to love someone so much and still not know what they thought or how they felt in return.
Still, as I stared up at him, I realized I did know. I knew he honored me as the Artan. I knew he respected me not only in that role but as a woman and as the person I was. He’d lived with all my fears and tears, my insecurities and self-doubts, my stubbornness and contrarieties for some time now, and he hadn’t turned his back on me yet. That gave me hope and maybe urged me whisper,
“Ilgard, is there a chance for us, do you think? A real chance?”
“I’ve… no answer for you yet,” he said slowly.
“Will you? One day?”
I was coming perilously close to pressuring him, like I’d privately promised myself I wouldn’t. I knew that, but I also knew I’d thrown myself, and him, into a completely unprecedented situation. I desperately needed some sort of reassurance that he wasn’t going to shy away, retreat into his Simathe shell, and leave me to despair that I’d ever torn down the walls around my heart. He could do that, easily. In time, I might learn to live with that rejection, but right now I didn’t think I could handle it.
“Aye, one day.”
“You promise?”
“I give you my word.”
Maybe it wasn’t exactly what I would’ve liked to hear, but for now it would suffice. With a sigh, I let my head fall against his chest, enjoying the way we fit together, enjoying even more the way his hand smoothed over my wet hair and he laid his cheek on top of my head. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was a lot, coming from a man like him. For now, I was content to rest in that and let th
e future take care of itself.
Plans
I slept surprisingly well that night, considering my excitement over what had transpired between Ilgard and me. Maybe I was simply exhausted from my journey through the Underworld. Or maybe my emotions, which had been all over the place yesterday, had worn me down. Whatever the cause, I slept late the next morning, and since nobody came to wake me it was well past noon before I finally crawled out of bed.
I sent for breakfast, and to my surprise the fairy Braisley accompanied it, requesting I tell her everything I’d learned during my time in the Underworld. My first instinct was to clam up. My second was to demand she leave. Nevertheless, remembering Ilgard’s avowals—that I was the Artan, that I loved my people, and that I wouldn’t desert them or my realm—I held myself in check. Telling myself that a civil conversation with the fairy was very likely the first step in forgiving, healing, and letting the matter go, I allowed her to have a seat and began sharing my story as I ate.
Surprisingly, the more I talked, the easier it became to engage and fully open up. Focusing on something other than my own personal feelings allowed me to recall that everything in life, even the hurtful things, weren’t always simply about me. In short, by the time breakfast was ended, I was leaning back in my chair, sipping a mug of hot tea as I continued to talk, and was thankful to realize the resentment towards Braisley, towards my other friends, had lessened. The fairy was wise enough to keep her questions and comments to the subject at hand and not bring up any potentially hurtful topics. Together, we puzzled over Heldwyn’s tale of the first Artan and our matching necklaces, but she knew no more than I did, so it remained a mystery we couldn’t solve.
After she left, I dressed in a gown with long, flowing sleeves beneath a beautiful surcoat of blue velvet, trimmed with silver piping. Rosean arranged my hair with matching ribbons and sprigs of flowers collected from the courtyard’s central garden. I let her fuss over me, because after my recent trek through the Underworld, wearing nothing more than a nightshift and a tight braid, it felt good to be clean and well-dressed.
Besides, there was something I needed to do, something I needed to tell Ilgard, and I couldn’t deny I wanted to look my best when seeing him today. Yesterday, with everything else going on, I hadn’t gotten the chance to mention it, but my talk with Braisley had reminded me. In fact, it was the one thing I hadn’t told the fairy about my time in the Underworld. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her, but I also remembered Ilgard’s advice the night of the Instating ceremony that I should be on my guard against everybody except himself. The Interpreter’s explanation of my dream rather seemed to back up his warnings. I needed to talk to him, to tell him what the Interpreter had said, and get his feedback.
Not to mention, seeking him out on this mission sort of gave me an excuse to see him again, anyway. Which, after yesterday’s admission, I wanted nothing more than to do. I’d never been in love before. I’d no idea how it meant wanting to spend practically every waking moment with another person, to be close to them, to touch them, to enjoy their presence. However, I was also fully aware of being in a unique position. The Simathe High-Chief knew I loved him, but whether he felt the same towards me, I had no idea. Yes, I wanted to be near him, but I didn’t dare push or smother. So I tried to play it cool as I sought him out, finding him in the Great War Room, in a meeting with the Ranetron High-Chief, Lady Tey, his own Chief Captain, the High Elder, and several others.
I wasn’t planning to interrupt, but as soon as I was noticed in the doorway Lord Ri insisted I join them. I obeyed, seating myself between the High Elder and Lord Garett, determining to wait them out. I was half-afraid some mention of yesterday’s unpleasantness would be made, but Lord Ri only inquired briefly about my health and the success of my journey and told me everyone was pleased I’d returned safely. Then they went on with their meeting, debating supply lines and troop movements, and a whole host of other matters about which I could give little input.
When I caught myself tapping my toe impatiently under the table, I had to consciously force myself to relax. My stomach felt tied up in knots, and I felt anxious, although whether it was more because of wanting to be alone with Ilgard or to give him my news, I couldn’t say. I told myself it was the latter: it wasn’t like I was a love-struck teen who couldn’t think of anything except her latest crush. All the same, the meeting seemed to drag on for an eternity. I was about ready to jump up and start pacing when Lord Ri finally called a halt to the proceedings, saying it was time to break for the noon meal.
As the meeting adjourned and everyone began shuffling out of the Great War Room, I caught up with Ilgard at the doorway, tugging on his sleeve and asking quietly, “May I have a word with you? It’s important.”
He nodded in agreement and even placed his hand briefly on the small of my back as he stood aside to let me lead the way out into the corridor. The contact was brief but unprecedented, which told me I wasn’t the only one whose view of our relationship yesterday had altered. Still, I felt rather awkward once we were actually alone and out of the sight of the group. I couldn’t stop thinking about the day before: how it had felt to be in his arms, how I had told him I loved him, and how much I wanted to kiss him again. Knowing he could probably deduce most of my thoughts only increased my discomfort, so I led him outside, into the palace’s courtyard, where I knew there’d be plenty of people around and we could talk without the pressure of being alone in an intimate setting.
Pressure for me, anyway. If he was feeling any, I’d never be able to tell.
The afternoon was cool and sweet with the promise of spring. Today, pale sunshine filtered through filmy grey clouds, teasing with the hint of a fuller radiance that couldn’t decide if it wanted to burst forth. As I’d predicted, several guardsmen and servants were bustling about on different errands, and nobody paid us much mind as we drew to a halt beside a stone bench nestled against the soaring outer walls. In fact, I’d been in Laytrii long enough with a Simathe escorting me practically everywhere I went that few people even spared us a second glance, despite our respective positions as the Artan and the Simathe High-Chief.
I took a seat on the low bench. Next to me, Ilgard did the same. Leaning forward, he braced his forearms on his thighs and loosely clasped his strong hands. My heart skipped a beat at his proximity, but, telling myself to quit being an idiot, I took a breath and prepared to dive right in. He surprised me by turning to look at me and speaking first.
“This is a curious situation.”
“Uh, what do you mean? You mean you and me and all… this?”
When he nodded soberly, I gulped. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I probably wouldn’t have, but everything was so crazy yesterday that I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just blurted it out.”
“I am glad you did,” he replied, straightening.
“You-you are?”
Lifting my gaze, I dared to search his face, his eyes, and was rewarded by the flicker of a smile.
“It has given me much to consider, but aye, I am.”
Staring up at him, reassured by this admission, which had fully suppressed all of the awkwardness and the doubts, I stated boldly, “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”
His dark brows lifted. “Well. I would not prevent you, but it might offer the palace gossips a new scandal.”
“I’m a pretty scandalous person,” I shrugged.
“Particularly for an Artan.”
His dryness made me laugh. “You know one thing I like about you?” I said. “You have a sense of humor, and you’re funny. You really are. You just hide it so well nobody would ever guess. I sure didn’t when we first met.”
“A Simathe cannot betray a weakness.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
He allowed a little smile. “I trust you.”
“I trust you, too,” I said softly, seriously, then chuckled as a new thought struck.
“Ilgard
, is this the craziest thing that’s ever happened to you?”
“Crazy?”
“You know—um, wild, bewildering, unprecedented, unusual…”
“Outlandish,” he supplied.
Again, I laughed. “Is that what you think I am?”
He shrugged. “I fear the day lacks sufficient hours to list all the terms you, my lady, would require.”
“I may require something else: protection and somebody to watch my back,” I said, sobering as I recalled the reason I’d sought him out in the first place.
“What do you mean?”
So I told him everything, starting with my dream of the faceless Simathe and ending with the Interpreter’s revelations that seemed to indicate a traitor or false friend. His expression changed as I spoke, any softer traces of levity hardening into an almost deadly sobriety.
“Ilgard? What are we going to do?” I asked after I’d finished and we’d sat in silence for a while. I couldn’t read him well enough to tell where his mind was, but I could discern his thoughts weren’t pleasant.
Finally he turned to me, his eyes so deep, so unreadable, probing mine as if searching for something.
“Can you be brave, lass?”
Kan
Several days went by, and battle preparations continued. Reports trickled in daily of more raiding by dark forces, vicious attacks upon farms and villages, townships and cities. Some were quelled by local resistance or our own forces. Others were not. Aerisia’s armies, gathering for the push towards Shayle, were stretched too thin to put down every insurrection. Furthermore, there were desertions among our own forces by those more interested in the looting, plunder, and power promised by the The Evil than defending their homeland.
Within the past few days, several authority figures, not only in the city of Laytrii but all across the land, had fallen victim to assassins or kidnappers. Only those with the power and influence to continue the fight, should Shayle fall, were being assaulted. Clearly, the Dark Powers were preparing for more than this single battle: they were preparing for a war. Their formerly scattered servants were pulling together, amassing into an army that grew swiftly in strength and size. An army carrying out a horrendous campaign while headed towards a single goal: Shayle.
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