by Peak, Renna
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know.”
“Right.” She grins. “Because you’ve never had a hangover.”
I lift a brow, frowning at her. “I asked you what my cousin said to you before he left.”
She takes a sip of her juice and makes a face. “Barely tolerable. But if it works—”
“It works. I’m not certain of the exact contents, but if memory serves, it contains an herb only found in the mountains of Montovia that’s a known antiemetic and pain reliever.” I release a long breath. “Why won’t you tell me what Caspar said to you?”
She shrugs, taking another sip from her glass. “It’s not important.”
“If it isn’t important, then you shouldn’t have a problem telling me.”
She grins before taking a bite of her croissant. “You should have some breakfast, too—”
“Clara.”
“He said…” She shakes her head as she swallows. “He just said that he hoped we’d stay long enough to be at the ball.”
I search her eyes for some sign that she’s lying to me, but I see none. I’m not certain why I’m so mistrusting of her or my cousin—he certainly could have taken advantage of her last night if he’d wanted to.
“Sit down and eat with me.” She pats the cushion beside her. “Please?”
I sit beside her, taking a pastry from one of the dishes on the table. There are many things I should say, not the least of which is reminding her of our conversation last night, at least the part where I told her I loved her.
But before I can say anything, Clara has grabbed a fistful of bacon and turns to me, grinning. “I could get used to this kind of breakfast.”
“The hangover cure must be working, then.” I muster a half-smile. “Clara, I—”
“What’s a masked ball like?” She asks while chewing her food. “I’ve been to some pretty fancy galas in New York, but never a masked ball.”
“I’m certain it’s no different than any of your ‘fancy galas,’ I tell her. “Though some of the people who make masks in this country get a bit carried away. My sister, for example. Sophia has made some of the most intricate masks I’ve ever seen.”
“That sounds amazing.” Clara grins, still eating her food. “So, are the masks themed? I want to know everything—”
“Clara,” I interrupt. “How much do you remember of our conversation last night?”
“I already told you.” She shrugs, taking another bite of her bacon. “Not much. But enough,” she says as she chews. “I don’t remember you telling me why you left. Or why you came back.”
“I told you I’d made a mistake,” I say carefully. “And that I returned as soon as I realized it.”
“Mm.” She chews at her food for a long moment, apparently lost in thought. She takes another long drink of her pink juice before turning to me. “You’re pretty hard to figure out, you know?”
“I’d say I’m an open book.” I rise to pour myself some coffee, sitting in the armchair across from her this time. “I’m a simple man, Clara.”
She snorts, almost choking on her food. “Simple. Right.” She laughs as she wipes her chin with her napkin. “I wish I could look you up online. I bet I’d find all kinds of things that aren’t simple.”
“Why would you need to do such a thing?” My brow furrows. “If you’ve a question about me, you only need ask.”
“I’ve asked you lots of things you don’t tell me the answer to.” She shrugs.
“Because my life is the business of no one but myself. I can assure you, no one is curious about me, Clara. It hasn’t been difficult to maintain my privacy—I managed to move to Montana without the world knowing about it. You should be thankful that the media pay me little attention.”
“Thankful, huh?” She takes another bite of her breakfast. “I think—”
“I think that before we began this inane conversation, I was attempting to assess how much you remembered of what we spoke about last night.”
She sighs. “Not much, okay? I was really drunk. I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk before.”
I merely nod, taking my own bite of my breakfast. It isn’t as though I can just come out and tell her the things I told her last night—not out of context, anyway.
We sit in silence for a few moments before she speaks again. “Was there something? Something I need to know?”
There are so many things she needs to know, but there’s no way for me to just say them out loud. Not now. Part of me knows I did this to myself—even though I was only gone for a short time, it was long enough to damage the already fragile foundation we’ve built our relationship upon. I’m not certain how I can fix that, but I know I can’t just tell her what I told her last night. She wouldn’t believe it anyway.
I shake my head. “No, Clara. There’s nothing you need to know.”
Clara
Nick is acting weird. Which isn’t surprising, given everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours.
The rest of breakfast is awkward. I’m torn between wanting to give Nick the silent treatment for leaving and wanting to throw myself at him and never let him go.
And I can’t stop thinking about what Caspar told me. Nick’s ex, whoever she is, will be at this masked ball. I want to meet her. I want to see the woman who broke his heart, who made him the person he is now. Was he always so closed off, so afraid of emotion? Or did that woman do this to him?
Nick is going to kill me if he ever finds out that I knew she’d be there all along. But I don’t care. I need to see her. And even if he refuses to admit it, he needs to see her, too.
That’s why I’m doing this—because Nick needs to let her go. For his own sake. And for us. I know a thing or two about exes. And I know that if you can’t even bring yourself to say your ex’s name, then there are still feelings there. Those feelings might look like anger or hatred, but any emotions that strong mean he hasn’t let go yet. Some part of him is still emotionally invested in this other woman, still tangled up in what she did to him, and as long as that’s the case, he can never love someone else. Not really.
I look across the coffee table at him as I finish the last of my hangover cure, and my throat constricts. He has no idea how much he means to me. How much it broke my heart to watch him drive away. I want to go back to the days on the ranch, when we could ride across the fields together and kiss in the rain and when neither one of us wanted to be anywhere else.
Abruptly, I stand.
“Didn’t Caspar mention there were some ruins or something on the other side of the lake?” I say. “Where you used to play as a boy?”
He sets his napkin gingerly on the table. “Yes. Why?”
“I think that’s what we should do today,” I tell him. “Let’s go exploring.” We might not be able to go back to how things were, but we can escape from other people for a little while. “Will you take me there? Please?”
He eyes me suspiciously, as if he thinks I have some wicked ulterior motive for even suggesting such a thing. But I’m already walking back to the bedroom.
“Get dressed,” I tell him. “I’d like to leave before the sun gets too high.”
Half an hour later, we’re heading out of the manor across the gardens. We’ve decided to walk to the ruins. Neither of us is particularly interested in taking a rowboat again, and I’m not ready to get back on a horse. Besides, the exercise will probably be good for me. That hangover drink helped with my headache, but I’m still a little dizzy, and hopefully the fresh air will do me some good.
We’re nearly to the edge of the gardens when someone calls to us. When we turn, Caspar and Benedict are striding toward us down the gravel path.
Nick grumbles something under his breath, but he goes silent when I place a hand on his arm.
“Off for a stroll, Cousin?” Benedict says when they reach us. “A fine day for it. The morning is full of beauty, isn’t it?” He flashes a smile at me, then reaches out and takes my hand, bowing over it. “
A pleasure as always, Clara. I trust you slept well?”
“No thanks to all that alcohol you gave her,” Nick says.
“It wasn’t their fault,” I tell him. “I’m a grown woman. I make my own choices.”
Nick doesn’t look the least bit convinced by that, and Benedict shrugs as he releases my hand.
“We’d never let anything happen to her, Cousin,” he tells Nick. “Surely you must realize that by now.”
“In the meantime,” Caspar cuts in, “we simply wanted to invite you to come into town with us. We thought we’d ride into Wintervale this morning. I think you’d find it interesting, Clara. And Cousin, surely the people here are overdue for a royal visit.”
“We were going on a walk to the ruins,” I say, glancing uncertainly up at Nick. It probably would be a good idea to go into town, especially if Nick wants to restore relations with the people on this side of the country. But I was looking forward to our walk.
Fortunately, before Nick is forced to decide one way or the other, Benedict speaks up again.
“The ruins sound like a splendid idea. We can go into town this afternoon instead. What do you say, Caspar?”
His brother is already smiling and nodding, and I realize that they must have planned this all along.
“A walk sounds like just the thing,” Caspar says. “I’d love some exercise.”
Nick shakes his head. “No one invited you. And the two of you have spent enough time with Clara.”
“Is that how you feel, Clara?” Caspar asks.
Once again, I find myself in the middle of a family dispute. And there’s no easy way to make everyone happy.
“I enjoy your company,” I tell Caspar and Benedict. “But Nick and I would like—”
“Then it’s settled,” Benedict says. “How could we resist the chance to spend more time in your presence?”
They don’t even give me the chance to respond. They march down the path in the direction we were heading, and it’s up to us to catch up. Yeah, they were definitely going to find a way to join us, no matter what.
I glance up at Nick. To say he’s displeased would be the understatement of the century.
“It’ll be fine,” I murmur to him, hooking my arm through his. “You need to learn to get along with your cousins sooner or later. Just think of it as part of your job.”
“I’m well aware of my responsibilities,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy them.”
“Do you think they’re up to something?” I ask as we follow Caspar and Benedict toward the edge of the lake.
He sighs. “They’re always up to something. That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
Nicholas
I’m beginning to regret coming to Wintervale at all. Not that my family gave me much choice in the matter, but my cousins are making things infinitely more difficult for me at the moment.
My cousins are walking quickly, and I can see it’s difficult for Clara to keep up with them. Much as she might want to tell me she’s well, I was witness to how inebriated she was last night. I’ve only been as drunk a handful of times, but I remember all too well the lasting aftereffects of a night of binge drinking.
She’s almost running to keep up with the two, and I finally grasp her forearm, slowing her to walk beside me.
“Let them go.” I motion with my head in my cousins’ direction. “I’m not certain why they’re in such a rush, but whatever it is can’t be so important that we’re running to keep up with them.”
She twists her arm from my grasp before looping it around my elbow. “I’m glad you think so. A nice, slow stroll sounds a lot better anyway.”
We walk arm in arm for several hundred meters before my cousins realize we aren’t at their heels. They finally slow, turning back to meet us on the path.
Caspar lifts a brow. “I thought you were joining us, Cousin?”
“Is there some hurry to see the ruins? They’ve been there for centuries. I doubt they’re going anywhere today.” I lead Clara around them, ignoring how Caspar’s mouth has fallen open. “But do feel free to follow us.”
The two quickly catch up and follow for a few minutes at our heels.
“Cousin,” Benedict says as he strides up beside me. “We thought we’d show you the shortcut.”
“Ah.” I nod. “Because you thought I’d fall for such tricks?”
“It’s not a trick…” Caspar begins to walk beside Clara, the two now flanking us on either side. “It’s just that it’s quite a distance if you take the marked trail.”
Clara turns to me, tilting her head in such a way as to ask me if I believe him.
I give her a shake of my head. “It hasn’t been so long that I came to Wintervale each summer, has it?”
“No, I suppose it hasn’t,” Caspar says, though he’s not looking at me. He smiles down at Clara. “Which is why Nick should know there’s a shortcut just ahead.”
The trail ahead does fork, and I know the ruins are off to the right, though Caspar is motioning for everyone to join him on the trail to the left.
“Trust me, Clara,” he says. “Have I given you any reason not to trust me?”
“Well, there was the little incident with the boat yesterday…” She looks between the two of us, clearly unsure of whom to trust more. “But I guess you probably know your land better. I mean, maybe Nick spent every summer here, but you’ve been here your whole life, right?”
“Precisely.” Caspar grins. “And the sun will do us some good, won’t it, Cousin?” He motions with his arm to the fork on the left, which admittedly is much better lit than the side that goes deeper into the forest. “It’s just this way.”
“I swear, if this is some sort of trick…” I grumble under my breath.
“It’s not a trick, Nicholas. Just a shortcut.” Benedict seems even more pleased than Caspar that we’ve all decided to take this “shortcut.”
We walk on the open path for some time, and I could swear we’re headed in the wrong direction. In fact, I’d swear we were headed toward the town after all.
Clara takes my hand and smiles up at me, and I suddenly don’t care much where we’re headed. I just wish I could tell her that—it doesn’t matter where we are, as long as we’re together.
The path takes a turn back into the forest, and for a moment, I think perhaps my cousins weren’t lying after all. Maybe there really is a shortcut to the ruins that I was unaware of—I suppose it isn’t impossible. Though I spent many weeks each summer here during my childhood, even I didn’t explore every bit of the grounds.
Though I always was quite taken with the ruins… A small voice inside me knows that this is a trick—and that it isn’t going to end well.
My cousins quicken their pace again, and we’re moving quickly through the wooded area once more. I’m not sure what the hurry is, or why we need to move so quickly, but Clara seems to be enjoying herself, at least, and I can’t ask for more than that.
We climb to the top of our current path, and there is a clearing off to our left.
My cousins walk over to it, motioning for us to join them.
Clara pulls me with her, and we climb over to the area where the trees part.
It’s an amazing view of the entire Wintervale Valley below, with patches of farms dotted across the land for as far as the eye can see.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Caspar smiles down at Clara.
“It’s…amazing.” She seems to be quite taken with the beauty of the land—and why shouldn’t she be? It is quite stunning, and part of me is proud that this is my country. I should appreciate its beauty more often than I do.
“And over there… Do you see it?” Benedict points to a large manor off in the distance.
“That must be a pretty big house for how far away it is from here.” Clara looks up at me with a smile.
I look in the direction my cousin is pointing, and my chest begins to burn. This? This is why he dragged us up here? Not to enjoy the beautiful view
?
Caspar grins at me for a moment longer than he should, and I know in that moment exactly why he did this.
“That fine house is the home of one of our distant cousins,” Benedict says from behind me.
My hands curl into fists at my sides, and though my anger shouldn’t be directed at them, it somehow is right now.
“They’ve just had a child. Did you know, Nicholas?”
I say nothing. My eyes have glazed over and I feel as though I might vomit.
“That is the home of the Baron of Valemoor. And his wife, Sara.”
Clara
Nick doesn’t look well. And I’m beginning to put some of the pieces together. “Is that…?”
“It’s no one,” he snaps. “Come on, Clara. We’re going to the ruins.”
He strides off toward the trees again, and I hurry after him.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I beg him.
But he looks like he’d rather throw himself off a cliff. I glance back toward his cousins, who are still standing in the clearing. Caspar is shaking his head, while Benedict just shrugs at me.
They knew this wouldn’t go over well, I think to myself. But they also know that this is the only way for Nick to move forward. If this baroness really is the one who broke his heart, of course. They did this for Nick. And for me.
I finally manage to catch up with Nick and grab his arm. “Can’t we talk about this, Nick?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he insists. “They’re just trying to get a rise out of me. I’m tired of playing their childish games.”
“You’re going to have to face her sooner or later, you know,” I tell him.
He stops so quickly I nearly trip. “What?”
“This baroness. You’re going to have to face her eventually.”
If there was any remaining doubt in my mind that she was the one who broke his heart, the look on his face puts that to rest.
“I had to face Adam,” I remind him. “It sucked, but I knew it had to be done. It was the only way to let him go.” Whether Adam has let me go is still up for debate—I haven’t forgotten that drunken message he left me the day we left—but that’s out of my hands now.
