Chapter 42
Lucien forced himself to keep walking. Ignoring the tug of the bond, telling him to turn around, to go back to her, he grit his teeth and took one step after another. He knew that Elain was crying, he could feel it, and everything in him was screaming at him to go and fix it, make it better, but he knew that this was the right thing to do. After what she had told him on the blanket out in the garden, Lucien had thought long and hard about her words. Even though it had hurt him to hear that she hadn't acted out of some realised desire for him the previous night, he had still considered what she had told him. Eventually, he had realised that she was trying to give him the same time and space that he had given her. She was trying to ensure that he had chosen her of his own free will, that he had fallen in love with her the way he had fallen in love with Jesminda. He had loved Jesminda because she had seen inside him and wanted him for who he was, not what he was, not because he was the High Lord's son. Elain wanted the same, he realised. She wanted him to love her because of who she was, not just because she was his mate. Lucien wanted that too and, while he was fairly sure that he did feel that way about her, Elain deserved to know that. He also desperately hoped that she would realise she felt something more for him.
It had taken him some time to work up the courage to make the decision to leave. It wouldn't be for long, he decided. A few days should give them all the time they needed. He would, he knew, have to get far enough away that the distance would let them think clearly, and the moment he winnowed, he had felt Elain's reaction to the distance. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't really have anywhere he could go…
Instead, Lucien found himself wandering. He had spent a lot of time moving around Prythian on his own over the years, and he knew that he would have no problem continuing to do so for several days, but he wanted somewhere he could sit and think. He didn't want to wander aimlessly. Not trusting himself to stop walking to think, he forced himself to keep going. Briefly, he considered going back to Tamlin. That, he decided, would prove too much of a distraction. He didn't want to be focused on his old friend while trying to sort his head out. He could, he thought, go back to Vassa and Jurian. Almost as soon as he considered that thought, he had dismissed it. Jurian had begun to get on his nerves. Vassa, too, had begun acting strangely toward him in a way that got under his skin. Also, Lucien figured, if Graysen happened to be present at the Manor, he didn't know that he would be able to let the prick live. Certainly not after what Elain had just told him that morning.
He really had nowhere to go. No real friends, despite the fact that he knew just about everyone. Lucien considered the fact that he could, he supposed, walk into nearly any court as Rhysand's Emissary, and he knew that he would be given shelter. He didn't want to do that, though. He didn't want to be surrounded by people who didn't care about him. Nobody did, though. Bitterness rose in him at the thought. For centuries, he had done whatever he could for whoever had needed him, only to be cast aside again and again. He'd been made an exile twice now, and still had no home or family to show for it. He figured he could disappear right now and nobody would even notice.
Shaking that thought off, Lucien tried to remind himself that that wasn't true. His mother would definitely care. He knew that Elain would, too. Even if she never accepted the bond, he knew that she would be upset if he vanished without a trace. He wouldn't do that to her. He had no desire to cause her more pain than he already had. His mother and Elain, the only two who truly cared for him, and he couldn't go to either of them. Running his hand over his face, Lucien forced himself to think.
Turning then, he remembered a cabin he had stayed in for a few days while he had been searching for Feyre under Tamlin's orders. It had been long abandoned then and, he hoped, nobody would disturb him there. If he pushed himself, he could probably be there by dark.
By the time he'd winnowed close enough to the cabin to walk the rest of the way, Lucien was exhausted. He just about fell against the door, pushing it open. Staggering inside, he noticed that it was the same as the last time he had stayed here, and he gave a sigh of relief. He groaned a moment later when he realised that he hadn't thought to grab himself any food before leaving and he was going to have to hunt for his dinner if he wanted to eat for the night. He was already hungry not having eaten anything since that sweet pastry that morning during his conversation with Elain.
At the thought of Elain, guilt and pain washed over him and he grit his teeth against his instinct to go straight back. She had stopped crying, he knew, but he could still feel her misery. She would be fine, he told himself. She had Feyre and Nesta to take care of her, and Nesta was probably already telling her how much better off she would be without him. He felt guilty at that thought, knowing that if Nesta did say something like that to Elain, it would only upset Elain more.
Setting his pack on the scrappy mattress on the floor, Lucien forced himself back to his feet and turned toward the cabin door. He would need to catch something soon if he hoped to cook it in time to eat before he passed out for the night. It wouldn't take him long, he promised himself. He had spent more nights than he could count fending for himself when he hadn't wanted return home, both back in The Forest House, and later at in the Spring Court. As he stepped outside, he turned left, remembering the small stream nearby. When he came to the edge of the stream, Lucien shrugged out of his jacket and set it under a nearby tree before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and removing his boots. He paused for a second more to roll his pants up, before wading out into the water.
He let his thoughts return to Elain as he watched and waited. An image flashed before his eyes of Elain's bedroom. She had wrapped herself in her bedspread as she lay curled against the pillows, her book sitting nearby as she stared at her knees. She was alone.
Snatching the fish that moved past his ankle, Lucien straightened and climbed out of the stream. The fact that Elain was alone suggested that she wanted to be. He had no doubt that if she had desired company, she would have had it. Nobody in Rhysand's Town House would have denied her that, even under normal circumstances. She could have been down in the living room listening to Nesta and Cassian snap at one another, or in the dining room watching Mor and Amren drink, or even up in the library with whoever she chose to speak with. She had any number of options and those who cared for her. If she was sitting alone in her room, it was because that was what she had chosen.
As he dressed and walked back to the cabin, Lucien tried to reach for the bond. He couldn't tell exactly how Elain was feeling, and the bond was giving him nothing further. Perhaps she had figured out how to shut it off, or perhaps he was just too far away. That had been the idea, he reminded himself when he had a moment of panic at the thought. As he collected some firewood and piled it carefully, Lucien tried to send a reassuring thought to her, letting her know that he was alright, but he wasn't sure he managed that. If the distance was too great, it wouldn't even matter that she hadn't actually accepted the bond and he wasn't sure it would have worked even if he had been closer. Flicking a thought at his pile of firewood, Lucien watched as flames erupted and the fire quickly began to burn happily as if it had been going for hours. She had been able to hear his heartbeat even when he'd been in the Mortal Lands, he reminded himself. Even that far she had been able to hear that he was alive. He hoped that would comfort her now.
Quickly preparing his dinner to cook, Lucien settled down to wait. Three to four days, he supposed. After that, he would go back to her and they would see what would happen then. That would be plenty of time or, he supposed, about as long as he suspected his willpower would last.
After he had eaten, Lucien let the fire burn low before he headed back inside the cabin and settled down on the scrappy mattress. He wished that he was able to hear Elain's heartbeat the way she could hear his. It would have done wonders to soothe him and make up for not being able to feel her now. Closing his eyes, he promised himself that the time he had already spent away from her practically counted for one day. Three more, he told himself. Three more days and he would go back.