A/N: I'm sorry. It's been a horribly long time since I updated this. It's only that this fanfic has been on the back-burner (and my other story as well) for my fic "The Courting of Aviahnna Rubenne". (*hint* and if you want to check THAT one out ;)) Anyway, I really do feel horrible about the amount of updating. Yes, I'm horrible when it comes down to updating, partly because of my procrastination and partly because of my schedule, but this wait was pretty uncalled for. So, sorry…if you guys are still reading :)
Chapter 5: A Question of Trust
As I returned from Mel's party, a light, airy feeling washed over me, one I couldn't shake even if I had wanted to.
Of course, I wasn't counting on someone doing it for me.
When I arrived at my quarters, Sirkar rushed to meet me before I was able to enter the antechamber. His eyes were wild, and his body tense and eager as he gripped onto my shoulders. I felt some of that bliss that had been there only seconds ago fading steadily away – the blood from my face was draining even more rapidly than that feeling as I looked past him.
Not now.
A spy was reclining on a chair, and as he hastily rose and bowed, my stomach twisted. Of all the times, of all the things…not now.
"Your grace," he smirked eagerly.
I quickly scolded myself. I knew what the spy was going to say – it was easy enough to tell. It was something expected sooner or later, and nothing mortally shocking – yet I did not want to listen. – Not because of fear, or foreboding – because of simple complacency. I wanted to stay here, in that moment of bliss, my flesh still warm from Mel's hands, and my mind filled with her smell, not the glint of swords and deceit. It was shameful to think the way I was – but frankly, I didn't care.
"Would you perhaps like a drink? You have ridden far, and are wearied – I thank you for your honor, but at this moment you comfort his my concern."
He shook his head with determination, and glared at me with dark eyes. "The Merindar's are marching to war- they have only to wait for their last recruits."
I sighed inwardly, and forced a smile onto my lips. I was expecting later – in truth, much later – but it could not be helped. I had a job, and whatever hesitance I had needed to be thrown away.
I nodded to him, asked for my cloak, my helm and my sword, and made haste to ride out to the main roads.
As soon as my horse galloped outside, rain misted through my eyes. The air was both damp and biting, and I realized just how tired I was. My vision swam for a few frightening moments, but I bent my head, gritted my teeth and carried on. It was not long before I reached the hills, as the rain still dripped down from the sky.
I briefly thought of Mel, but for the most part, I tried not to. She was comparatively far away, and more than ever I could not let my mind wander, for fear of uncovering the fatigue of reluctance and the late night.
By the time I had reached the small village, my horse was tiring, my ill-made façade with myself was already chipping at an alarming rate, and I felt I was a second away from falling straight to the ground at every moment. When the inn came within my grasp, I grated out something resembling a request for a fresh horse with an unrecognizable voice. Walking limply to the lobby of the inn, I grated out another request for a private room.
Once shown to it, I sank into the couch, determinedly thinking of nothing. This was simply a rest. I would eat, drink, refresh myself and then I would continue. I had to continue, for Remalna.
But all I wanted was her.
Without warning, there was a shuffle of feet at the door, and I quickly snapped my head up to see a flash of oddly familiar eyes peering from the tapestry. I kept staring at those eyes until I realized with a jerk that felt more like death that it was Mel, right in front me. Then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she flipped back the tapestry and fled.
I could not honestly tell you what I was thinking then; past absolute shock and what seemed to be a gaping hole in my chest. I knew nothing then, but the overwhelming despair that was gripping me coldly. As she retreated, I somehow got a clear thought through the haze – but it was one of duty. I pulled back the tapestry, where she was leaning against the wall, her back facing me.
I reached for and grasped onto her arm firmly, as she looked drearily up at me. There was another terrible lurch from my stomach, but I braced it and drew her into the room silently. Still not trusting my voice, I pointed to a cushion, and she sat down with all the weariness I wasn't showing.
"Azmus…" she croaked, he eyes confused. "How could you – I sent him –"
"Drink." I ordered, interrupting her while pressing a mug to her hands. "Then we can talk."
While she drank, I sat with what I supposed was an inscrutable expression on my face – but my insides felt like they had been cut with a red-hot knife and dropped carelessly on the floor. My heart was still, and my breath was shallow, and my eyes weren't seeing properly. All my focus was on her.
What was she doing here? My mind was shaking with the question, and I was faint with fear for the answer. I was also past furious with myself, and the fool of a Marquis I'd become.
What if she was here to find the Merindars?
What if she was on their side? It certainly seemed like that, I could no longer allow myself to be blinded by my partiality for her. I had brushed off every single account, every single suspicion – her try for the crown, Flauvic - and I was a fool for it. Here it was, slapping me in the face, the apex of all my mistakes, and I was quivering with fear. This had gone on to long – once and for all I needed to know.
But how, in my current state, was I supposed to do it?
"How did you did you get ahead of me so fast?" Mel questioned me, looking straight into my eyes, her own a mix of confusion and weariness. "I don't understand."
I couldn't help my eyes widening in surprise, more at her demeanor than her words. She seemed genuinely bewildered, and her words dripped with conviction of that confusion. It wasn't fake or put-on – at the very least, it didn't seem so. Furthermore, her words didn't make any sense whatsoever to me, while they seemed to be asking me a question.
"How," I started slowly, unsure, "did you know I was here? We told no one when I was leaving, or my route, outside two servants."
"I didn't know you were here," she insisted. "I sent Azmus to you. With news. About the Merindar's. You mean you already knew?"
My vision was now blurring further with confusion, but I let my trained court voice carry me to sure footing. "Let us backtrack a little, if you will bear with my lamentable slowness. I take it, then, that you were riding thus speedily to join me?" I forced irony into my voice, "because if you were, your retreat now is somewhat puzzling, you'll have to admit."
She answered, innocently indignant. "I peeked in because I thought you might be one of the Merindars, and if so, I'd send a warning back to you. I mean, you if you were there. Does that make sense?" She frowned to herself, shook her head, and drained the coffee.
I smiled weakly, but nothing could save from the burning, tearing feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was then that the serving maid came in, carrying a bowl of food and fresh bread. "Will you have some as well?" she turned to Mel.
"Please." I ordered, before she could speak, knowing she would most likely refuse. "and more coffee.'
When the serving maid had gone out, I braced myself yet again for the test upon me. "Now, begin again, please. What is it you're trying to tell me, and where are you going?"
She tore her eyes away from the food at my elbow, and looked at me again. "I'm going to Orbanith," she said, pulling off her soggy gloves. "I guess I am trying to tell you what you already seem to know – that the Merindars are on the attack, with hired mercenaries from Denlieff. But- why do you want me to tell you when you already do know this?" She looked up once again at me, and my heart faltered in to the fiery pit of my stomach.
My mouth was stiff as I answered. "I am trying to ascertain what your place is in the events to transpire, and act accordingly. From whom did you get this information?"
Despite all my suspicions, my mouth went dry and my heart broke in my chest as I saw it dawn on her. Her face turned pale, and her eyes withdrew their focus from me to inside her.
I knew she was replaying all my reservations in her head – Flauvic, the crown, our obvious problems. It was terrible for me to watch as she realized my doubt for her – terrible because after all the time I'd spent gaining her trust, she now had to face a time where my uncertainty for her was a matter of life and death. We had rarely communicated- if ever- on friendly terms, and I cursed myself for not trying harder. Either way, it would have made this painful meeting unable to crush my soul as it was doing now.
But I had to do it.
The maid came in with another tray of food, but Mel barely looked at it, as I had not looked at mine. When she looked at me it was with illness and misery, but I vowed to be impartial – this could all be a grand trick.
"Tell me where you got your information." I said, stones in my throat.
"Azmus. Our old spy." He lips were blue, and she started to shiver. I fought against a feeling of further misery, and the desperate want to put my arms around her. I couldn't risk anything anymore. "My reasons were partly stupid and partly well-meaning, but I sent him to find out what the Marquise was after. She wrote me during the winter – but you knew about that."
I only nodded in response.
"And you even tried to warn me, but at the time I saw it as a threat because – well, because." I was infinitely glad she didn't continue with that thought. Drawing a shaky breath, she continued. "And again. At her party, when she took me into the conservatory. She tried to get me to join her. Said I hadn't kept my vows to Papa. So I summoned Azmus to help me find out what to do. The right thing. I know I can't prove it."
At that moment, the sole thing I was wishing for, and it seemed to be the only thing I had ever wanted, was for this whole thing to disappear. I tugged on the glove of one hand, the hand with the ring, lost in my own thoughts. I looked at it for a moment, wishing I could tear it off and pour my soul out to her, place my heart on a platter – I wish I trusted myself enough to do it. This situation was cruel and cold, to be sitting here, across from the woman I loved, her ring on my finger, trying to decide whether she had betrayed my country.
Suddenly I realized that I was sitting in silence, staring at the glove, and I straightened, lifting my gaze to her. "And now? You're riding to the border?"
"No." She said, "to Orbanith."
I didn't understand, and again showed my surprise.
"It's the other thing Azmus found out," She supplied hastily. "I sent him to tell you as soon as I learned – but there's no way for you to know that's true. I realize it. Still, I did. I have to go because I know how to reach the Hill Folk.
My brow went first up and then down. "The Hill Folk?"
"Yes," she replied, leaning in towards me, "The kinthus. The Merindars have stowed it in wagons, and they're going to burn it up-slope. Carried on the winds, it can kill the Hill-Folk over a full day's ride, all at once. That's how their paying Denlieff, with our woods, not with money at all. They're breaking our Covenant! I have to warn the Hill-Folk."
He conviction mixed with her beautiful made my feel as if I was swaying violently in the wind, unsure which fall would lead me to a net and which one would lead to dark, open air. I needed more, and I couldn't trust myself to think.
"Orbanith? Why there, why this road?"
"Mora and the servants told me this was the fastest way to Orbanith."
"Why did you not go south to Tlanth where you know the Hill-Folk?"
As she shook her head, I had the peculiar sensation of being ignorant, for the first time in a long time. "You don't know them. You can't know them. They don't have names, or if they do, they don't tell them to us. They seem to be aware of each other's concern, for if you see one, then suddenly others will appear, all silent. And if they act, it's at once. Some of the old songs say that they walk in one another's dreams, which I think is a poetic way of saying they can speak mind to mind. I don't know. I must get to the mountains to warn them, and the mountains that source the Piaum River are the closest to Remalna-city.
Once again her conviction hit me like a blow to the chest, and my mind spun. She was my weakness. If I did not trust my instinct, everything would be lost. Yet something in me told me that, even with the partiality, what she was saying was not a lie. Her eyes were too focused, her mouth too still, her discomfort too apparent. Yet my heart was caught in my throat, and all the doubts I'd ever had rose up to meet me.
My voice came out soft; both because of the emotions and the fact I was staring straight at those eyes. "And no one else knows of this?"
She shook her head slowly, still gazing at me. "Azmus discovered it by accident. Rode two days to reach me. I did send him…"
Something flashed in her eyes – regret and remorse, but I only faintly noticed it. Everything she said – her hurt, her pain, it chipped away at my heart, but I couldn't let it reach my gut. Now, more than ever, more than before, I wished I had talked to her, understood her…here I was left with nothing but love and instinct – no knowledge. I took a deep, shaky breath, tried my best to ignore my feelings and focused on the facts in front of me.
I prayed with all my heart that my decision wasn't the end.
I looked at her, a sour taste in my mouth, before forcing a smile to my face. "Brace up. We're not about to embark on a duel to the death over the dishes." I paused, for once at a loss for words. What could I say? Something was good enough. I forced a light tone to my next sentence, to hide how much it meant to me. "Though most of our encounters until very recently have been unenviable exchanges, you have never lied to me. Eat. We'll leave before the next time-change, and part ways at the crossroads.
She only into my eyes without a word, but her gratefulness tore through like a knife into my stomach, making me weak in the knees. She looked down, smoothing her clothes, and I could practically feel the tears prickling at her eyes. They made me feel utterly miserable, to know I had caused her this, and my next words were neither light nor careless, only flat.
"Why don't you set that cloak aside and eat something?"
To take my own mind off of my totally wretched feelings, I picked up my bowl and spoon and began to eat dutifully. This seemed to loosen her up, and she shrugged off her cloak, wiped her eyes, straightened and picked up her bowl.
We sat there for a short time, neither saying anything, my throat tight with tension and discomfort. Finally, I managed to work up the courage and soothe my fears enough to say something in a semi-natural tone. "Don't you have any questions for me?"
She glanced up at me, posed to have another spoonful. "Or course. But I thought – " at that moment, she waved her hand, forgetting about the food. As it went flying and splattered onto the table, I couldn't help a smirk coming to my face. She quickly mopped it up with her cloak and continued. "Well it doesn't matter what I thought. So you knew about the plot all along?"
"Pretty much from the beginning," I replied truthfully, "though the timing is different. I surmised they would make their move in the fall, but something seems to have precipitated action. My first warning was from Elenet, who found out a great from the Duke's servants. That was her real reason for coming to Court, to tell me herself."
"What about Flauvic?"
I almost winced at the name, and answered carefully, unconvinced, "It would appear that he is disassociated with the plan of his mother's."
"Was that the argument he alluded to?"
I did not need to ask when. "Perhaps. Though that might have been for effect. I can believe it only because it is uncharacteristic of him to lend himself to so stupid and clumsy a plan"
"Finesse," she drawled in my trade-mark accent. "He'd want finesse, and to make everyone look foolish."
I smiled slightly, half with the assurance that she did not have any attachment to who I had once assumed as my rival. But I wanted to hear it from her. "I am to understand you were not favorably impressed with Lord Flauvic?"
"As far as I'm concerned, he and Fialma are both thorns," she answered with typical passion, "though admittedly he is very pretty to look at. More so than his sour pickle of a sister. Anyway, I hope you aren't trusting him as far as you can lift a mountain, because I wouldn't."
I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of the statement, for it was one I had been wanting to scream at her since the day I had hear of the kiss – and here she was saying it to me. Instead I answered objectively. "His house is being watched. He can't step outside without half a riding being within earshot."
"And he probably knows it," she said, grinning widely. "Last question, why are you riding alone? Wouldn't things be more effective with your army?"
"I move fastest alone," I replied, shrugging, "and my own people are in place, and have been for quite some time." I reached into my pouch and pulled out the summons-stone. "When I want them, I will summon them with this. Each riding has one. At the appropriate moment, we converge and, ah, convince the Marquise and her allies to accompany us back to Athanarel. It is the best way of avoiding bloodshed."
It was then the time-change rang. "What about the Denlieff warriors?" Mel asked.
"If their leaders are unable to give them orders, they will take orders from me."
She shook her head, recognizing the threat. "I'm glad I have the easy job. –Speaking of which…"
I smiled, simply to see her smile back. "There's a room adjacent. I suggest you change your clothes and ride dry for a time."
Before she could answer I rose, pulling back the tapestry and summoning the maid. When Mel was in the room, I took her sodden cloak and put it on, barely feeling the weight or dampness. In its place I lay my waterproof one, hoping she wouldn't be silly enough to refuse it. With that, I went on my way to 'convince' the Merindars.
I rode fast and determinedly, the only thing on my mind being to get to the Merindars and summon my ridings. I even consciously realized that this focus was partly due to the fact that I did not want to think of the events that had just transpired. The cold, bitter irony was that only a day ago I had wanted nothing more than to see Mel and not worry about the greedy Marquise. Now, though, I was still shaking from my encounter with the very person I wished to see, and thinking of the Marquise to save me from the terrible distaste in the back of my mouth.
The only thing I did concerning Mel was to send nine ridings to follow her on her own quest, for I was sure she couldn't to it alone. After they had aided her (keeping in contact with me) they were to take their time, but come back to meet me in a designated area.
I rode three days like this, through terrible weather, keeping in contact with my ridings and making sure they were a comfortable distance to me – enough to converge at the proper moment. The rain came at random intervals, and the food began tasting just as soggy as the weather.
It wasn't until I spied, down in a half-valley, an assortment of tents and horses, with quite an army to accompany them. The Merindars. They seemed to be ill-educated for battle, for I was practically on top of them, and they couldn't see me. That, or they were too confident in their victory.
I rode west for a few minutes, until I reached a sort of forest. Pulling out the summons-stone, I communicated with all of my ridings within the decided radius, telling them to pull in slowly to my position. Once we had all gathered, I had only to motion for the 'persuasion' to begin.
We took them completely by surprise, and there was no pretense of a resistance, only a folding of troops and commanders. I myself picked Fialma right up over the ground, and onto my horse, and talked to the rest of the camp, 'convincing' them it was probably in their best interest to follow what we said.
We ended up with a gaggle of commanders: Fialma, , the Denlieff wings commander, Barons Chaskar and Hunarev, Baroness Orgaliun, two mercenary captains and the Denlieff wing commander.
Fialma, still slung across my saddle, suddenly forcefully pushed a cup into my hands. I looked at it for a second, first incredulous and then amused. With one slight movement, the liquid inside it spilled had onto the ground, and the cup broken. "Next time," I said lightly, "I would think it best if you drank your own poison."
I then looked around, and realized the most important pieces of the puzzle were missing.
"Where are the Marquise and her dear friend Grumareth, exactly?"
One of my riders supplied half of an answer. "Grumareth is nowhere to be found. Probably scampered home."
I gave a half smile. "Perhaps we should then extend our courtesy to his front door." After dispatching a troop, I was brought back to my original question. "And what of the Marquise?"
At that moment one of the riders came up, carrying the object in question on his horse. His face was darkened and frustrated, and I felt a twinge of that same feeling in my chest. As I rode up to meet him, my eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"She took poison – we were too late to give an antidote."
Probably the rest of Fialma's share. My voice was a controlled sort of sardonic, "She seems to be quite capable of putting innocents in prison, and it's a wonder why she cannot do the same for a guilty soul like herself." I paused, "You know what to do with her, I trust?"
The man first smiled and then nodded.
I then began to rummage through the commanders being held captive; sending the mercenaries home, and giving 'special treatment' to each of the lovely individuals we had rounded up. Almost as soon as I was finished dealing with some of my favorite people, the summons-stone began to glow.
It was the wing commander of my nine ridings, the one I had dispatched to Mel. Despite myself, my heart tightened at the anticipation of the news I was about to hear.
"Report," I said as evenly as I could.
The man was half-smiling in disbelief. "The lady was right. Kinthus in every wagon – and there were twenty of them. She was about to fight all forty of the drivers too, before we arrived," my heart skipped a beat before he continued. "We took the wagons from them, and dealt with the prisoners."
I nodded. "Good. Now, if you would, take Lady Meliara to an inn and have her sleep – at least two candles. Do not let her get up, even if she struggles – which she could if she's insanity strikes her – until that time is up. Then you may ride to meet us – thank you, commander."
He nodded, containing his laugh in a smile, and the summons-stone faded away.
Twenty wagons?!
____________
We arrived at the armed campgrounds before the nine ridings containing Mel did, and set up our own tents. I waited all that day for the ridings to show up, but it was almost sure they wouldn't arrive until the next day. The problem wasn't in the ridings; it was now in my courier, arranged by my parents to send news each day, and she had not arrived yet. She was by now only two candles late, but something was stirring in me, making me tense – even the bets made on how many wagons Mel could have defeated (for word had gotten round) only served to agitate me more.
The next day was busier than the first – and the courier had still not come. I went into the converse tent, dressed in Remalna's green and gold, a commanders plumed helm under my arm. Immediately I was ushered to sit on a cushion, and was attacked by five different people on what to do about the millions of problems they seemed to have. I gently lay the helm on the table beside me, and put on my most diplomatic expression – but anyone who knew me well could see the tense worry at the edges –and not only for the courier.
Scribes and pages were rushing everywhere, picking up swords and shields, taking down supplies, and there was a constant chatter. I listened to the men with half of my brain, but violet eyes kept appearing in the other. As soon as she appeared, I knew what I planned to do. I needed to do it, finally, and after everything it seemed right…but Life…
Mentally straightening my wandering, I swiftly gave the orders the men were looking for, fighting the urge to rub my eyes and bang my fist against the table several times. They bowed and left, and I turned round into a more comfortable position –
To see her standing there.
Involuntarily, my face immediately relaxed as my heart rose up to my throat for about the thousandth time in her presence, my limbs felt like water. The room went quiet at their arrival, and, steadying my emotions, I rose up to meet them. With an eyebrow raised, I asked the question I had been waiting to ask for the entire day. "Twenty wagons, lady Meliara?"
She shrugged and looked away, as embarrassed as I was oddly amused.
"We have a wager going," I continued, "How many, do you think, would have been too many for you to take on single-handed?" I did not bother to tell her I found it somehow terrifying to bet on how many she could have defeated without being killed.
"My thinking was this," she said with forced casualty, and even worse attempt than mine. 'Two of them could trounce me as easy as twenty wagons' worth. The idea was to talk them out of trying. Luckily Nessaren and the rest of the wing arrived when they did, or I suspect I soon would have been part of the road."
My mouth was controlled, by my eyes spilled forth with uncontained joy and love. I almost reddened at my demeanor, for it was easy to see where my affection lay – and had always lay. "That won't do, my lady. I am very much afraid if you're going to continue to attempt heroic measures you will have to make suitably heroic statements afterward – "
"If there is an afterward" she interjected, and I fought against a surge of laughter – someone in the crowd couldn't help themselves as I could and burst out in it.
"-such are written in the finest of our histories."
"Huh," she exhaled. "I guess I'll just have to memorize a few proper heroic bombasts rhymed in three places, for next time. And I'll also remember to take a scribe to get it all down right."
I laughed, attempting to release the tension – in fact, everyone in the tent did, much more than I suspected the joke deserved. We were all tired from our journey, and I suppose everyone knew of the missing courier.
She then unclasped my cloak and handed it over. "I'm sorry," she said, bending her head downwards to avoid my eyes – something I wished she wouldn't do. "Got a bit muddy."
I did my best to sling it over my shoulder casually, and offered her a drink, motioning to a cushion. A young cadet came forward with a tray and steaming coffee. She took a cup and began sipping slowly. As she did, everyone began to file out of the tent, and I almost shamed myself to blushing – for if their miraculous disappearance to leave us alone did not seem contrived, then Mel was blind.
Drawing up all my courage for what I knew was sooner or later going to happen, I turned to face her. "Questions?"
"Of course!" she answered, "What happened?"
I moved to sit across from her, preparing myself further. "Took 'em by surprise," I answered. "That part was easy enough. The worst of it has been the aftermath."
"You captured the commanders, then. The Marquise and – "
I supplied the rest, "her daughter, two mercenary captains, the two sellout garrison commanders, the Denlieff wing commander, Barons Chaskar and Hunarev, and Baroness Orgaliun, to be precise. Grumareth's nowhere to be found, my guess is that he got cold feet and scampered for home. If so, he'll find some of my people waiting for him.
"So the Marquise is a prisoner somewhere?" she asked, looking as if the idea suited her – and after all the woman had done to her, I couldn't blame her. Because of this my grimace was more than just show.
"No, she took poison. A constitutional inability to suffer reverses, apparently. We didn't find out until too late. Fialma," I added dryly, remembering her little show, "tried to give her share to me."
"That must have been a charming scene."
"It took place at approximately the same time you were conversing with your forty wagoneers." I smiled a little, yet again trying to brace myself. "since then I have dispatched the real mercenaries homeward, unpaid, and sent some people to make certain they get over the border. What they do in Denlieff is their rulers problem. Fialma is on her way back – under guard –to Sles Adran, where I suspect she'll become a permanent royal Court pest. The Denlieff soldiers are keeping in garrison until the ambassador can squeeze an appropriate trade agreement from his soon-to-be apologetic king and queen. The two sellouts were executed, and I have trusted people combing through the rest to find out who was coerced and who not."
"Half will be lying of course."
"More," I answered immediately. "It's bad business, and complete justice is probably a dream. But word will get out, and I hope it won't be so easy to raise such a number again."
She sighed, relieved. "Then the Merindar threat is over."
"I sincerely hope so." I said it automatically, and it was the truth, but I did not believe her own statement. Something was stirring in me…
She saw through me. "You don't sound convinced."
"I confess I'll feel more convinced when the courier from Athanarel gets here."
"Courier?"
"Arranged with my parents. Once a day, even if the word was 'no change.' Only she's late."
"How late?" she asked without too much alarm. "The rain was bad yesterday – "
"A day." I interrupted, and she paled slightly.
"Oh, but surely if there was a problem, someone would either send a runner or come in person."
"That's the most rational way to consider it," I answered, but again I was not completely convinced.
"And of course you sent someone to see if something happened to the expected courier? I mean something ordinary, like the horse threw a shoe, or the courier fell and sprained her leg?"
I nodded, but I didn't want to think about it much further. "I'll wait to the end of blue and make a decision then." I looked up at her, a chill going through my spine, my mind whirring. If there was a time, it had to be now. I purposely took the drawl out of my voice and said, "In the meantime, do have any more questions for me?"
I did not need to worry that she would not get my point. She first relaxed and then tensed, drawing a deep breath. "No questions. But I have apologies to make. I think, well, I know that I owe you some explanations. For things I said. And did. Stupid things…"
I held up my hand, because to hear more of her beautiful words from her beautiful mouth only made my stomach flip, and my courage waver high then low. 'Before you proceed any further…" I began, amazed words could come out of my mouth, and I began thinking of all the times her interest – at least in the Unknown – was clear, all of Russav's encouragement, and what she did once I mentioned the goldenwood throne. We belonged – and I had spent too much time hiding it from her.
I gave her an apologetic half-smile and began to pull off my gloves, one finger at a time. Once I had pulled off the left one I said to her in a surprisingly steady voice, "This might be one of the more spectacular or my mistakes –" with a last tug, I pulled off the right glove, revealing at last her ring on my finger – and I suddenly felt naked.
I turned back to face her, doing my best to breathe. Her face was one of utter shock. "That's my ring."
"You had it made," I replied, "but now it's mine."
She stood there, and I swear on everything I know I could read her mind. Realization was in her eyes, and he could not speak. She was both horrified and – life – relieved. My throat was refusing to swallow, and my mind had shut down. I couldn't say anything – and I didn't believe there words that belonged to that moment.
After a time, I forced thought into my brain and pushed words out from my mouth. "It is time" I began, hoping my voice wasn't shaking, "to collect my wager."
I moved slowly, so utterly unsure of what I was about to do that I felt like a child. It was so terrifying, but I was so violently in love with the woman in front of me, and so filled with regrets of lost time that I could not stop, despite the uncertainties. Almost by themselves my fingertips slid around her waist. The contact felt like a dizzying, wonderful blow to my head.
A stray hair brushed my cheek, and the blow hit me harder, my heart beating like death and stomach churning upside down. Hesitantly, I brushed my lips first against her brow, and then along her eyes, and finally to her lips. My lips reached hers lightly once, twice and three times, and I, saturated with pleasure and wonder, was too afraid to go further. I was glowing and her lips felt like fire to mine, but I could not tell…
It was then that she wrapped her fingers around my neck, and, sending a fierce shudder through my body, pulled me into her. The fire exploded into my head, and bliss seeped through my every pore. She was kissing me, kissing me with all the passion I had ever dreamed of, in my arms…her mouth like rain after days in the sun.
Life…life…we belonged.
A/N: Okay…I really loved that chapter. I hope it was worth the wait.
