“My beautiful M’Tek,” I said gently. “You have nothing to fear with me. I don’t believe what Kolten said, and Pet hardly knew what she was saying. I love you. I will always love you, and it has nothing to do with magic.”
“You’re wrong about this, Lore. My cousin knew exactly what she was saying,” M’Tek replied. “She knew because I told her.”
“What did you tell her?” I asked.
“The first time I met you, in the apple orchard,” she started. “Do you remember the words I spoke?”
“I remember you spoke strange words in a language similar to Old Noge,” I said. M’Tek nodded, and then she came forward to take my hand.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why are you so frightened?”
“Come, my love, sit with me on the sofa,” she suggested. “It’s time I told you the truth.”
I readily allowed her to lead me over to the sofa. She sat beside me for a moment, but she was clearly agitated, and unable to sit still. I thought her overtired. Very quickly, she stood up again and went over to retrieve a bottle of berrywine and two glasses from the side table. She came back and poured a glass for me, and one for herself. As she raised the glass to her lips I noticed her hand shook slightly. She tilted the glass, quickly consuming the contents, before pouring herself another.
“It won’t work,” I observed quietly.
“What?” she asked, her voice reedy with agitation. “What won’t work?”
“You won’t get drunk on a bottle of berrywine,” I said. “There’s not enough wine in Vilkerdam to get you drunk. So, why don’t you just tell me what you need to tell me? Get it over with,” I suggested.
“You know I came to you with only one goal, keeping you alive to reclaim your throne. I wanted to protect you,” she said.
“Of course I know that,” I replied. “And you did protect me. You’ve always protected me.”
“But then I saw you, and you looked so much like Sarane,” she added. I pressed my lips together to keep from responding to that ugly little admission. “You were so powerful, already. An unarmed girl, alone in an apple orchard, and you faced me as if I were an inconvenience, or a mild annoyance. It was unsettling.”
“That’s not exactly true. I climbed a tree to hide,” I argued. “I thought you were there to kill me.”
“I needed some means of controlling you,” she said. “You must see that it was only protection, against the past.”
“We had no past then, M’Tek,” I said. “We’d only just met.”
“I put a powerful, ancient, love charm on you,” she whispered. “It was the same one Sarane used on me when I was a girl.”
I sank back into the cushions, closing my eyes, as my mind raced over the past few years. I searched my heart, trying to isolate the exact moment my love for her had begun. I could feel M’Tek trying to ease inside of my mind, but I blocked her, as I relived our first meeting. My mind wound through all of the small moments that followed as I thought of her, believing she cared for me, that she only wanted to protect me. I remembered when she appeared out of thin air, with her powerful army, intent on delivering me the crown I was struggling to reclaim. The next time I’d seen her was before we signed the treaty. She had been so kind, and accepting of my inexperience, and generous, with advice and support.
“Lore,” she said softly. “Are you all right?”
I opened my eyes to see her, sitting as far back in the corner of the sofa as she could press herself, watching me with frightened eyes. In spite of my mounting anger, I reached out to touch her thigh, wanting to reassure her.
“I’m fine,” I said gently. “Everything will be all right. I’m glad you were finally honest with me.”
“Then you don’t mind?” she asked, astonished. “How is that possible?”
I swallowed back the retort that sprang to my lips, took a deep breath, and tried to clear my head of all thought. M’Tek was watching me; now appearing more fascinated than frightened. I shook my head as I felt her pressing her way into the corners of my mind. It took a great deal of concentration, but I held her back.
“Of course I mind, M’Tek,” I said calmly. “I mind a great deal.”
“I don’t understand,” she replied. “Are you angry with me then? You don’t look angry.”
“Were you trying to hurt me? Did you want to make me love you so that you could cause me pain?” I asked, my hand moving back and forth across her thigh in a movement meant to soothe. I needed to know her motive for attacking me that morning. If she thought I was angry, she wouldn’t answer.
“I don’t know why I did it,” she confessed. “It was a reflex. I was afraid of you, of the way you were looking at me. You made me feel weak, as if I were a helpless girl, not a Queen with a powerful army. I acted without thinking.”
“Did you love me already?” I asked.
M’Tek shook her head and diverted her gaze, focusing on the berrywine again. She shifted to reach for the bottle, pouring herself another glass. Her gaze returned to me as she sat back on the sofa, clutching the glass with both hands, as if for support.
“At that moment I was simply acting upon instinct, protecting myself. I fell in love with you later, here, at Vilkerdam Palace, while we were working on the treaty together,” she admitted. “Before that, I wanted to seduce you, but it was about power and sex, nothing more. I still thought you were Sarane. Part of me always hated her.”
“You thought I was Sarane?” I said, more pained by her admission than if she had suddenly slapped me. Those were the cruelest words she could have spoken to me. “That doesn’t make sense, M’Tek. You knew she was dead. You watched her die.”
“I knew you weren’t actually her,” she corrected. “I thought you were her exact copy. The witch called you her clone. And you even had that birthmark on your shoulder. I kept waiting for the monster she kept hidden inside of her to show itself in you.”
Finally, I removed my hand from M’Tek’s thigh and reached for the glass of berrywine she’d poured for me. I took a deep sip, and sank back, away from her.
“So you were lying. When you said you saw only me it was a lie,” I observed. “I asked for your motivation, M’Tek, when I accepted your help. You lied to me then as well,” I added.
“I know. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted to tell you, so many times, but I was afraid.”
“Why were you afraid of me?” I asked. “Are you still waiting for that monster you think I keep hidden?”
“I was afraid of losing you?” she admitted. “I need you, Lore. I don’t think I could survive losing you now.”
“How could you lose me if I’m bound to love you by a spell?” I snapped.
“I’m still afraid,” she admitted.
“How do you want me to react to all of this? What should I feel, knowing you think my love for you is only a simulation brought on by deception, and that you believed me a monster?” I asked calmly. “How am I supposed to respond to all of this? How would you respond, in my place?”
“I would forgive you,” she said in a voice so small it was hard to hear. “Not because it’s deserved, but because I would forgive you anything, my love,” she added. “I know what I did was reprehensible. And I don’t have the right to ask anything of you now. Please. Lore, please, will you forgive me? It was done in an instant, without thought, and regretted with my every breath for these past several years.”
She looked more frightened than I’d ever imagined she could appear. As I held her gaze, her eyes began turning red, tears collecting. She bit her lips together and her forehead creased with tension as she focused to keep her composure, and to will me to hear her. Finally she blinked, and her tears spilled over, wetting her black eyelashes and trailing down her cheeks. She took a deep breath that sounded more like a gasp, as her hand rose from the glass she cradled, to cover her face. In the next moment she was shaking. M’Tek, the woman I loved more than my own life, was crying. I’d never seen her truly cry before, eve
n when she was dying.
I couldn’t maintain my detachment. I placed my glass of berrywine on the side table, and moved across the sofa to her. I eased the wineglass from her hand and set it on the table beside her before wrapping my arms around her. When I gathered her close to me she pressed her hot, wet, face against my neck, and continued crying. She shook in my arms as I rubbed her back.
“You don’t need to cry,” I whispered, trying to calm her. “I’ll forgive you.” My words only made her shake more, as I encouraged her into my lap. “I love you,” I said softly. “Even when I’m angry, I always love you. You must know that.”
She continued crying, but the shuddering slowed to trembling. I rubbed my hands across her back, as her arms tightened around me. She was holding onto me with all of her strength, her face still pressed tightly against my neck. I ran my fingers through her dark hair. She’d cut the last of the white out only that morning in preparation of the masquerade, leaving her hair too short, like a boy’s, barely reaching the line of her jaw. It felt strange to my fingers, the texture bristly from the curls still in it. Finally, after maybe thirty minutes, she was completely still in my arms. I tried to ease back from her, but her arms closed around me again.
“Let me get up,” I told her. Her head moved back and forth, telling me no. “Let me get a cloth for your face,” I suggested, prompting her arms to loosen.
I went into our bedchamber and found a bathing cloth. I dampened it with water from the pitcher, and returned to her. She was sitting on the sofa, her wounded gaze trained on me as I approached. I sat beside her again, lifting her chin as I wiped her face and nose. She bore that for only a moment before she took the cloth from me, folded it, and scrubbed at her face. She then wiped my neck and chest before reaching to place the cloth next to her half glass of berrywine. She picked up the glass and drank liberally from it before returning her gaze to me.
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked in a raspy voice.
“That I would forgive you, or that I love you?” I asked.
“Both,” she said.
“You already know I love you,” I replied. “I see your flaws, M’Tek. Sometimes you’re so frustrating I want to shake you, but I always love you.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t intend to force you.”
“I know that,” I said. “Even then, when you thought I was her, I don’t believe you would have intentionally hurt me. Regardless, your love spell didn’t work.”
“Of course it worked,” she whispered. “The fact that you would forgive me proves it worked,” she said.
“You can be so infuriating at times,” I whispered, tempering my voice to hide the frustration. “I chose you, M’Tek. I was intrigued by you that first day in the orchard, but I didn’t fall instantly in love with you,” I explained. “Your beautiful, expressive, pale eyes caught my interest, not your ludicrous spell. I wasn’t in love with you until we were together at Lareem. And even as my feelings deepened from desire to something more, I remained wholly aware of what was happening inside of me. It wasn’t sensible, falling in love with you, but it wasn’t a spell either.”
“But you kissed me when I brought my army to you, and then here, nine months before you came to me at Lareem,” she pointed out.
“You’re beautiful. I wanted you. It was lust, not love,” I said firmly. “You’ve wanted people with whom you weren’t in love.”
“But Lore,” she argued. “I think we’re different in that way.”
“If you won’t believe me, we’re going to have a problem,” I said, my tone a warning. “I don’t lie to you,” I said evenly. “Tell me now. Do you accept what I’ve said? Can we agree that your absurd spell failed?”
“Yes,” she said. “You know your own heart.”
I sighed and sank back in the cushions. “Good, then there was no real harm done. You didn’t mean to attack me,” I said. “It was a momentary error in judgment. You believed I was someone else.”
“You see it as an attack?” she asked.
“What else would you call it?” I replied. “You set out to use my emotions against me, to control me, for whatever motive, power, or revenge against Sarane, possibly even out of simple fear. Regardless, it didn’t work. I will forgive you. It may take some effort, but I will,” I assured her. “Let’s not speak of it again.”
“Lore, I don’t think…”
“No,” I snapped, interrupting her. “There has been one person in my life I could rely on, one person I felt safe with, and I will not lose you over a reckless mistake you made before you knew me.” I stood up and reached my hand out to her. “Now, come to bed.”
She stood and took my hand, allowing me to lead her back into our bedchamber. I allowed her to assist me out of my ridiculous Vilken dress, because it was the only way I could get the damn thing off. I noticed either my blood, or Kolten’s, had stained the skirt as I stepped out of it. I collected the dress in a ball and carried it back into the hearth room. I threw it in the empty fireplace and turned away.
When I returned to our bedchamber, M’Tek was in bed, the covers smooth around her. I stripped off my underclothes and climbed into bed beside her, not bothering with a sleeping gown. She moved over close to me, wanting to hold me. I shoved away from her, and then changed my mind and shifted on top of her. She tried to embrace me, but I caught her hands, pressing them down on either side of her. Sarane’s monster, the one M’Tek was waiting for, felt dangerously near the surface, but I pushed back from my anger, and leaned forward to kiss her gently. She strained to return my kiss as I held her back, her energy contained. I took my time, trailing my lips down her neck, nibbling her ear. I felt her press against my thigh, the need growing inside of her. I shifted my leg away, denying her, as I slowly ran my lips over her throat. She wanted her hands free so that she could touch me, and struggled against my grip. I held firmly, unwilling to allow her any control.
I licked her nipples and teased her with my tongue, as she strained under me. I eased down, nibbling at her tight belly. She bucked up underneath me, craving my attention lower. She moaned softly as I pressed a light kiss between her legs. She moved to my lips, her wetness coating my mouth as she sought release. I lifted back, looking up the line of her to find her head pushed back in the pillows, her arms straining to free her hands from where I still held them. Again I kissed her lower belly, her wiry dark hair tickling my chin. I eased lower and pressed my tongue between the folds of her, as she strained to open further to me. My tongue danced over her as her body strained, ripples of orgasm coursing through her quickly, building and then releasing, only to build again in the next moment.
Her entire body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, when I finally released her hands. They remained on the bed on either side of her for a moment, motionless, as I rested my head on her thigh. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, when her fingertips reached into my hair. She raised her head to gaze down at me, running her fingers through the sweat-dampened hair at my temple.
“Lore,” she said softly. “Please, let me hold you.”
I crawled up her body, relaxing my head down to share her pillow, as her arms encircled my shoulders. I noticed the sheets were damp with her sweat where I rested. I wanted that dampness against my skin. I didn’t move. She kissed my forehead and my eyelids, and then tried to lift my chin so she could reach my mouth, but I resisted her. She cradled the side of my face in the palm of her hand.
“Won’t you let me show you how much I love you?” she asked.
“No. Not tonight,” I said. “I’m tired.”
“Lore, please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You said you forgave me.”
“Let me sleep,” I replied.
She sighed, her arms tightening around me. I listened to the rhythm of her breath for the following hour, and was aware she was still awake. I turned over finally, and she curved her body to mine, her arms encircling my waist. It relaxed me, having her wrapped around me
, feeling her heartbeat against my back, her warm breath on my shoulder. After maybe an hour passed, sleep came.
-CH 18-
We remained in Vilkerdam for several more months. I hosted countless intimate dinners, and another large party, this one, to my relief, without masks. I kept M’Tek out of sight for all of them, deciding that if the Vilken people preferred to pretend she didn’t exist, I’d indulge them in their delusion. Eventually the issue would have to be addressed, but I was too disheartened to face it just then.
M’Tek remained cautious with me, deferring to me in everything, biting her tongue if she disagreed with my judgment. I could feel the war playing out in her mind as she struggled to let me make a mistake, but I never tried to press into her head, afraid the intrusion might grant her entry into my own mind. Occasionally, I’d rethink whatever I was doing and see the error, but mostly I ignored her tacit concern. She never mentioned Kolten, or her desire to interrogate him. Meanwhile, Kolten remained in a cell, receiving treatment for, and slowly healing from, the nearly mortal wound I’d dealt him. Otherwise he was neglected. I never even bothered with questioning him.
When we left Vilkerdam to head back to Lareem, the ground was covered in an unseasonably early snowfall. Sabea wore a heavy blanket, as she was unused to the cold outside of the barn. The rest of the horses had shaggy coats already, Twyneth included.
Kolten’s family had written seeking information on his whereabouts. Apparently, they knew he attended the masquerade. For obvious reasons, no one had heard from him in months, so they were rightly concerned for his well-being. After careful consideration I decided that the rest of Kolten’s family was likely as traitorous as he and his sister, so I simply ignored the matter.
Shiroane was personally responsible for watching over our prisoner during our trip back to Lareem. Still angry over Kolten’s attempt on my life during her watch, she was keen to inflict punishment. I’d given her permission to kill him if he tried to escape, and a free hand to keep him in line throughout our journey. As a result, his hands were tied behind his back, and he wore a hood over his head. A rope tied around his neck was attached to Shiroane’s saddle, as she led his horse alongside Ballick. Shiroane was ready to execute Kolten at the least provocation. By that point I honestly couldn’t have cared less if she had.
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