by Lisa Rector
CHASTISED AND BROKEN
Soft and silky sheets caressed her. Rhianu smoothed her fingers over the fabrics and drew them up to her neck. She woke, feeling encumbered and smothered under the heavy layers. Her bed was a lot more luxurious than she remembered and the blankets not usually so thick.
She pried open her eyelids. The sunlight did not yet peek around the edges of the curtains. Rhianu curled her toes and flexed her feet. She didn’t feel well rested at all. It must still be too early. As she rolled over, intending to sleep, Rhianu’s arm crossed her chest.
Her cold chest.
Her bare, naked, cold chest.
That wasn’t normal.
Rhianu glanced around, taking in her surroundings. Oh no.
Not her room. Not her bed. She turned her head when she heard breathing next to her. Einion. His smooth chest was exposed and his right leg stuck out from the coverlet. His curls framed his face and spread out ridiculously on his pillow.
Rhianu’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling the cry rising in her throat. A memory of suffocation and honey and incapacitation. The room stank—reeking of overbearing sweetness. What happened? Her stomach rolled violently as bile burned her throat and a sick feeling curdled through her. Rhianu slid from the sheets and fell silently to the carpeted floor. She crouched in a ball with her hands cupping her mouth, willing the waves of nausea to pass while her abdominal muscles clenched in restraint. Her shoulders convulsed over and over again. As she calmed, Rhianu became aware of tender areas. Her arms, her legs, between her legs.
She touched her skin gingerly, running her fingers over her thighs, over spent biceps, musing how the feathered strokes were reminiscent of a lover’s caress. Had Einion’s hands touched her in exactly the same way?
No. He couldn’t have. She would have never let him.
But the evidence was undeniable.
After Caedryn, after his betrayal, Rhianu had foresworn love. A heart polluted and softened by his romance almost led to her downfall. All these years since his vile hands had defiled her body, Rhianu held faithfully to her promise, knowing that her self-denial made her stronger, made her an indispensable vessel. And now to wake up like this, like some common harlot!
Rhianu’s rage spilled over. She had not been the cause of this travesty of love.
You did this to me, she yelled. You did this! Rhianu screamed in her mind as loud as she could. How could you? Was I not yours? I was yours! I renewed my vow!
You needed to be chastised for your weakness. You will not disappoint me again.
I loathe you!
Do not fail me, Rhianu.
A pain split the back of her skull, clamping her muscles down in agony. Rhianu dug her fingers into the rug. I will not, my lord.
The pain abated, and Rhianu resisted the urge to collapse on the rug.
Desperate to make an escape, she looked around the room. She spied her nightdress on the floor and crawled to it, too defeated to stand. Tears streaked her face, and she let them fall. Was my word nothing? Bunching the gown up, Rhianu pulled it over her head. Were my deeds for naught? She spotted the wretched flower on the floor where it lay withered and dead. Was my undying faithfulness meaningless? Rhianu crushed the blossom in her hand. She would destroy all the proof and hope Einion didn’t remember anything. She hoped Einion regularly slept naked to explain his appearance.
An inkling of regret scratched through her, and Rhianu’s stomach turned again. Poor Einion. What have I done to him? I stole his innocence.
She bristled. It’s no matter. I don’t care. At least that’s what she was telling herself. I do not love Einion.
Rhianu threw on her dressing gown after finding it discarded over a chair. One last detail—the vase—and she stumbled out of the room and down the hall. Please let the palace still be asleep. She didn’t want to find anyone on the way to her room.
Falling through her doorway, Rhianu was relieved to see the tub filled with the leftover water from her night bath. She didn’t care that it was dirty. She reached her hand into the water and warmed it. When it felt right, Rhianu slipped into its cradling embrace.
She had been betrayed, and this betrayal was worse than the broken promises of a conniving mortal. She didn’t deserve this. Her memory loss was by her master’s hand. Her love a result of her forgotten vow. This would have never happened had she retained full control of her senses. How dare the Dark Master punish her for this? Was this a game to him? He had no need for such a prominent exhibition, though one point was made perfectly clear.
Her master had absolute power over her.
I am myself, and I chose to follow you with my own free will. Do you hear me? I will not be forced into submission or ever be violated in such a way again!
Her master’s lack of reply sullied her rebellion. He didn’t even acknowledge her indignation. And with that she knew—there would be no escape from her master’s malice.
She wasn’t shocked when more tears fell, but this time not tears for betrayal, but tears for the assault on her body. Rhianu had pride in her physique. She was a trained warrior. Others might have used their bodies for such fleeting pleasures, but this was wrong. This wasn’t love. This wasn’t even seduction. This was a devious trick, and Rhianu felt filthy.
When her tears dried, she made a plan. She would go with Ellena just as she had told Einion. Ellena was leaving after breakfast. Rhianu could take breakfast in her room, slip out, and join her right before the carriage left. Hopefully she could avoid Einion altogether. Aerona could find her later. Rhianu was too ashamed to talk to her, but given Aerona, Rhianu suspected her dragon sister already knew.
Rhianu dressed in traveling clothes and packed her belongings. She rang the attendants and told them to bring breakfast and to inform Lady Ellena she’d be coming with her and to please alert Rhianu when the time arrived. Her body felt restored, the light having performed its healing. The night was as though it never happened, except, Rhianu felt a jagged scar inside, as if being struck by lightning for a second time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DARK MOMENTS
Einion sat in his study, staring blankly at Catrin’s letter, having already read it several times. Catrin missed him. Cerys had several more months until her egg hatched, and Catrin wouldn’t leave her until the young dragon was responsible enough to fly and not burn down a forest. She wasn’t sure when she could see him. Same drivel as the letter before. Einion crushed it up and flung it across the room.
He flipped open his father’s journal to an early entry.
My heart is broken. I’ve never felt such agony. My soul’s reason for living is dead. My mother has finally passed into the beyond after suffering for days with some unknown malady. I watched helplessly as she mumbled in her dreams and cried for my long-deceased father. I couldn’t bring her solace. The doctors couldn’t help. Her body burned, and sweat rolled off her brow. Her hair clung to her pallid flesh. I cannot escape the image in my mind.
The final night my mother cried out, “Govannon,” and reached into the air as though he took her into his arms, and she became silent. Her arms fell slack, and I knew—my father had taken her home with himself.
Now I am alone. I don’t know what to do. I am disconcerted. I sent word to my uncle and await his reply. The burden of the kingdom is solely on me, but I don’t want it. How can I do this without my mother?
His father had once been in the same dark place. Alone. So very alone. Not helpful. Einion slammed the journal shut.
He missed Catrin. He ached for Catrin. He needed a friend. He decided he would see her—after the wedding. Ellena was getting married the following day, and Einion was a guest of honor. It was his duty to attend his lords’ weddings. This trip had been planned for weeks, but Einion waited until the last possible moment to fly in.
Because Rhianu was there.
She had left Hyledd a month ago.
Groggy and naked, Einion woke that day, stumbling stupidly out of bed, feeling as though
he had a hangover. The last particular he remembered was he told Rhianu to go. He was an idiot. He didn’t think she’d do it, but she did. Einion remembered nothing else following his hastily said words. Prior to Rhianu’s slipping into his room, he’d drunk too much ale. His overindulgence would explain his lack of composure the morning after and his pounding headache. The room stank with a syrupy sweet, nauseating perfume. Allowing no pride to hinder him, Einion threw up in his chamber pot.
He recovered himself and cursed when he realized the hour. Well past noon. Ellena had left, and Rhianu had gone with her.
Did he and Rhianu part on civil terms, and if so, why the covert disappearance?
And here he was. Alone. Running the kingdom for the past month on his own. As he was supposed to. Did he find himself in this accursed month? Not even remotely.
He had not a single word from Rhianu. Many words from Catrin. At first, he clung desperately to her letters and news from Gorlassar. His mother paid him a visit for one short week, cheering his outlook only briefly.
Ahnalyn swept in two days after Rhianu left, meeting him in the garden before he could sneak out the wall’s door.
“Einion!” Ahnalyn called.
Einion spun around. “Mother, what a pleasant surprise.”
“My heart told me you needed comfort. I came as soon as I could. I’m sorry I didn’t come after the spring festivals. How’re you recovering?”
Einion pressed his forehead to his mother’s and breathed in her vanilla scent. “I’m much better now that you’re here.”
“But your heart is heavy. Where’s Rhianu? I thought I would find her with you.”
“She left for Ellena’s wedding preparations.”
“Ah, I see. And this troubles you?”
“Yes.”
“You care for her. I always thought you and Catrin would end up together, but now I’m not sure. You should go after Rhianu.”
Einion curled his fingertips around his mother’s hand. “Something happened. I don’t think we separated on happy terms. The whole affair unsettles me.”
“What will set you at ease?”
“I’ll see her at the wedding, and we’ll talk. That will set reservations aside.”
His mother squeezed his shoulder. “Einion, I came to discuss an important matter. I should have told you before. I hope you won’t resent me because I withheld this from you.”
Einion gestured to a bench. “Please, Mother, sit. Nothing you say could upset me.”
Ahnalyn nodded, thoughtful. “When you were an infant, I received a visit from a soothsayer—a tegyd.”
Einion grinned. “I know of them. The half men, half deer who live in the Great Forest in an enchanted underground realm.”
“That’s right. Taliesin told me you’d subdue the hold of the Dark Master. You’d thwart his servant, and Cysgod would crawl back into his eternal prison.”
Einion lifted his head slowly, considering what this could mean. A battle? A confrontation? Facing his fears head-on?
Ahnalyn continued. “We know that Cysgod is imprisoned beyond the wilderness, where Rhianu’s from. I didn’t see the need to tell you until Rhianu came into your life. I had hoped that part of the world would remain unconnected from ours, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
“Did this tegyd tell you anything else?” Who was Cysgod’s servant? Meuric? What hold did Cysgod hold over Meuric and the people in Morvith? With everything else Einion had been through, the reality only partially sank in. This prophecy foretold a battle.
“That you would be safe and treasured. That I need not fear for you. I almost thought the prophecy didn’t matter, but I wanted you to know because you struggle with your darkness. If you’re to face such a task, you must strengthen your light.”
“A daunting charge.”
“I know.” She patted his hand. “Don’t forget, I once carried the same foreboding energy inside.”
“I haven’t forgotten, though it frustrates me that Rhianu and I are the only other ones now. You can see why I find a common bond between us.”
“Yes, my son. I do.”
“So what do I need to do about the prophecy?”
“If you’re to fight against this servant of the Shadow, know that we—your family—are with you. The prophecy sounds positive—as if you will defeat him. I’ve never feared for you, but remember, Einion, the darkness is only one part of you. Your light is strong. I could not be more proud of you, my son. You don’t have to vanquish your darkness to live your life. You can hold both powers. Just don’t let your doubts squash your faith as well as your hope.”
But Einion slid back into despair after his mother left. What’s wrong with me?
You can overcome this depression. You need time for soul searching without Rhianu’s distractions. What’s one lonely month in the eternal scheme? Trahaearn asked.
What was a month? Trahaearn might have been right, but Einion had frittered it away. A month was not enough time to find one’s self. A month was just enough time to realize his miserable inadequacies. Why did emptiness consume him? What was missing from his life? A month had not bolstered his light.
Everyone has dark moments, Trahaearn said.
Everyone wasn’t a half-emrys with a tangible darkness inside them. Einion felt it. As cold as hard steel. Heavy. Black. When he closed his eyes at night, the weight of it pressed him into his mattress.
Building his light felt impossible.
He confessed to Rhianu that he could not love her with his darkness inside. What if he was completely wrong? What if he was better off with Catrin? What if he didn’t love either of them? By seeing them, he could figure out his true feelings. Einion was anxious to find closure between the two women he thought he loved. Once his confusion subsided, he could rebuild his light.
***
Trahaearn and Einion flew with his guard to the coastal town of Heulog. At sunset, a traditional folk ceremony would commence. Lord Aeron was a provincial lord, and his modest village was an important part of the trade route. Realizing the good match between Lord Aeron and Ellena, the chancellor readily gave up his daughter to be wed.
Trahaearn made it to the village just in time. Einion joined the gathering of guests outside in the dusk, taking his seat of honor in the front. He looked around for Rhianu and picked out her distinct light among the other emryn guests. She beamed with a glowing pinkish hue.
So, she was happy. Einion was glad. He couldn’t take his eyes off her during the whole ceremony. Dressed in a silken gown of navy blue, Rhianu gleamed innocently in the candlelight. Her red hair had been set in waves around her face, and she wore a circlet of flowers on her head. Rhianu glanced several times in his direction, but each time, she looked away when Einion smiled back.
Clapping and cheering broke out around him. He had completely missed the entire ceremony! Einion followed the happy couple out, after their families, into a banquet hall. The great throng of people prevented him from reaching Rhianu. He would have to wait. Guests demanded his attention. Einion gave a toast to the newlyweds, and the feast began. Drunken and jovial couples migrated to the dance floor. Rhianu talked with other young maidens, and Einion caught their stolen glances. Of course a single king would be a topic of conversation for the ladies.
Men, dressed in their best provincial garb, approached the ladies and asked them to dance. With the lively, bouncing steps, guests swapped partners frequently. Soon they were all swirling around the room, including Rhianu. Einion watched her laugh while she twirled her dress.
Einion set his goblet down, and the wine sloshed out. He pushed through to the dance floor, not wanting to wait any longer. He had not realized how his anticipation for seeing Rhianu had peaked until her slender fingers slipped into the firm, hairy-knuckled grasp of another man. Am I jealous?
When the crowd noticed the king, they parted, allowing him entrance to the dance. Einion stepped right up as Rhianu turned for a partner exchange and landed right into his arms.
<
br /> Her face showed her surprise.
Their hands touched, and they turned in a circle.
Hot fingers. Full, crimson lips. Lashes as black as coal. A long time had passed since Einion gazed upon Rhianu’s rousing features and touched her rich skin.
“Your Majesty,” Rhianu said. “How are you?”
Rhianu masked her voice with the polite courtesy any subject would give their king. Einion hated it. Why this awkwardness between us? Rhianu had never hidden her feelings from him before. Where had she learned the control? Why did she push this wall up now? He wanted to pull her away from the dance floor so he could talk to her.
“Rhianu…” He didn’t know how to start. “You look beautiful.” At least that was the truth.
Her olive skin took on a faint, rosy tint. “Einion, you don’t have to…”
The song finished, and a new one began. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the door. He wanted escape into the summer air away from the stifling room. “There’s much we left unsaid.”
Rhianu brushed him off. “Your Majesty—”
“It’s Einion. When have you ever addressed me as Your Majesty?” He groaned inside. That came out too harsh. He wasn’t angry. He was clueless and wanted an explanation. Impatience creeping into his mood ruled his voice—dangerous impatience.
“Einion…” She pushed him away.
“Don’t, Rhianu. I’m not mucking around. You left me without a word, without a goodbye.”
“I recall you told me to leave. What other words do I owe you? It felt final to me. We said our goodbyes that night.” Rhianu’s jaw was taut.
“Why don’t I remember?” Einion looked into her face, pleading for answers. Help me to understand.
“I don’t want to dwell on the past. I’m happy here,” Rhianu said.
“Have you got your memories back? Are you happy?” Give me some inkling. Drop a part of your wall. Let me in.
“Please, Einion. Leave me alone.” She turned and moved through the dark, heading away from the banquet hall.
