Near the end, Dagren rose and all eyes lifted to him. He raised his goblet. “To the new Baron of Landale. May he bring honor to the gods and put a permanent end to the rebellion that has poisoned this community.”
Murmurs of assent trickled along the table as everyone raised their goblets, but Anne had to choke down her swallow of wine and pray for the strength to hide her true feelings. How much sniveling must Goler have done to gain this position? She couldn’t think of anyone less deserving or more ill-suited.
Once everyone had finished, they rose from the table, and Anne hoped to find a quiet corner somewhere to spend the rest of the evening. Yet, once again, Goler offered his arm. She had no choice but to let him escort her out of the dining room and into the ballroom, where everyone mingled.
Goler led her along with him from group to group as if he were showing off a prize. Anne’s anger simmered. She wasn’t his to claim. She sent several looks to her father, who watched closely from nearby. Anne searched for a good excuse to extricate herself from Goler’s presence, but without Charles there to help, she came up empty.
Then the music started. Goler leaned close enough that his hot breath warmed Anne’s ear and neck and made her want to squirm away. “Let’s dance.”
A refusal sprang to her tongue, but she kept her lips tightly sealed. He took her silence as acceptance and led her to the dance floor. When he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, she almost gagged on his scent—too much fragrant oils mixed with sweat. She could barely focus past his presence and the exhaustion dragging at her feet.
After the fourth dance, Anne numbed to it all. However, adrenaline surged through her when Goler swept her past a couple of the onlookers at the far side of the room and through a doorway into one of the darkened halls. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she jerked against his hold on her arm.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“I just wanted to talk privately.”
Every instinct screamed for Anne to break away from him and call for her father, but if he did confront Goler, how would it end? Goler held all the power now. She’d seen the way he had looked at her father in the past for coming between them. She wouldn’t put it past the former captain to have her father arrested and executed just to get him out of the way. Fear for him outweighed the fear for herself.
“I wanted to discuss the future . . . and us,” Goler said softly.
Anne stiffened her back. She didn’t buy his attempt at tenderness. She’d witnessed too much of his cruelty to believe it didn’t lurk just under the surface, waiting to be provoked.
“What about us?”
Goler straightened a little, inflated by pride. “I have a place of standing and power now. I know you need time to accept the circumstances, but . . . I want you as my wife. You know I’ve long admired you, and you’re more than suited for such a position. Marry me and help me rule and bring peace to Landale.”
Anne just stared at him for a moment before a solid answer formed in her mouth. “No.”
His hopeful expression fell, and hardness crept in. “Why not?”
Her voice cold, Anne answered, “For one, you don’t have my father’s blessing. And I will not accept any offers while I am still mourning the death of a friend and am in no frame of mind to give it any consideration.”
Goler’s brows sunk in a dark frown. “It isn’t as if you haven’t had time to consider this. I’ve made my intentions clear in the past.”
“And I have in no way invited those intentions.”
Anne turned away from him and tugged against his grasp, but then he grabbed her with both hands and pulled her into him, subjecting her to a ravaging kiss. Panic and fury burst through Anne. She struggled mightily and ripped from his hold, slapping him as she backed away.
“How dare you!” She fisted her shaking hands at her side. “I will not be pressured into marriage. Not by you or any man. I don’t care how much power he commands.”
Goler stared at her, his eyes wide with surprise from either his own actions, her slap, or both. He almost looked sorry as he took a step toward her and murmured her name.
“Stop!” Anne put her hand up and backed another couple of steps toward the door. She wouldn’t let him get near her this time. Even so, the fear of how helpless she was to fend him off from this point forward seized her. She grasped at the only thing that might buy her time. “Unless you want Viscount Ilvaran to go to the emperor and remove you from this position, you will not touch me again.”
With these words, she spun around and fled back into the ballroom. However, his unwelcome presence clung to her in the phantom feel of his possessive hold and his damp lips pressed to hers. Trask had been the only man she’d ever kissed before tonight. Goler had robbed her of that. Tears seared her eyes. She fought them at first but then gave in. Let the other guests see her cry and know what a beast the new baron was. He’d stolen something precious from her, and she hated him for it.
Her father broke through the guests in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. “Annie! What happened?”
By now, the room had gone quiet and everyone stared at them. Anne bit her lip and shook her head, unable to voice what she’d just experienced. “Please, can we go home?”
Her father nodded and put his arm around her. Her mother and Elanor met them, and they all left the ballroom. The butler brought them their cloaks at the front door, his face solemn, and they stepped out into the drizzle to wait for Elian and the carriage. Here, Anne’s father took her by the shoulders again and looked her in the eyes.
“Did he hurt you?”
“He kissed me.” She shuddered. She knew she should thank Elôm that Goler had done no worse, but she couldn’t stop her tears or her shaking.
A moment later, Elian rushed up to them, his hand grasped around the scabbard of his sword. “What happened?”
“Goler,” Anne’s father ground out.
They both looked toward the door of the castle. A spark of anger had kindled in her father’s eyes that Anne didn’t witness often. She grabbed his arms, finally working her tears under control. “Don’t go back in. Please. We just need to go.”
He hesitated but then nodded with grim acceptance. There wasn’t anything they could do about this.
Over the remainder of the afternoon and during a hearty meal that evening, Jace and Kyrin recounted their tale of captivity. They also learned from the others how Halvar had tracked them to the spot where the ryriks had first camped for the night and then got a good start on Jace’s trail before Ross found them. It was a lot to take in, and they had much to discuss as to what the ryriks were doing here and what other force Daican was sending. They wouldn’t know more until Saul’s men returned with information and they had a chance to talk to Balen. Leetra and Halvar had left shortly after arriving in the village to take the news back to Jorvik’s farm.
Though crowded in the cabin, Jace welcomed the companionship of their group and Saul’s family. Everyone was curious about the ryriks’ way of life. Jace’s satisfaction grew deeper the more he learned and experienced the true kindness of Saul and those in this village. Though it had come about through a terrible trial, he thanked Elôm for the opportunity to witness this half of his blood in a completely different light. It somehow made him feel more complete than he had his entire life.
Sometime after dark, Saul rose to answer a knock at the door. A ryrik man stood on the other side.
“The lights are out if anyone wants to see them.”
Jace glanced around the cabin, but like him, most didn’t seem to understand.
“The northern lights,” Talas told them, pushing up from the floor. “You’ll want to see this.”
Curiously, they all got up to follow Saul and Talas outside. Jace took Kyrin’s hand and helped her up, guiding her to the door. Outside, they stepped carefully down the steps. Several yards from the cabin, Saul motioned to the sky and everyone tipped their heads back. Overhead, ribbons of green, pink, and p
ale blue light weaved through the starry sky. Jace heard Kyrin’s breath catch. It was indeed a breathtaking sight. The soft shafts of light slowly bent and flowed, almost like sheer curtains of light in a breeze. Jace had heard stories of people who had seen them in the more northern parts of Arcacia and in Samara, but he had never witnessed them himself.
“It’s so beautiful,” Kyrin murmured in awe.
Jace glanced down at her wonderstruck face and smiled. He squeezed her hand. She leaned closer into his side, and he breathed out contentedly. He never wanted her to leave that place at his side. Ever. His heart did an odd flip and then pounded as he looked down at her again. What better time or place would come along to make that a reality? He could do it, right here, under these lights. He only had to ask.
His intent staring caught her attention, and she looked up at him. She studied his face for a moment, a smile on her soft lips. “What are you thinking?”
Jace drew a shallow breath. “I . . . wanted to ask you something.” He swallowed, his throat suddenly drying out. She watched him expectantly. Don’t back out now. He tried, but the words just wouldn’t come. Defeat set in, and he hung his head. “Never mind. Just forget I said anything.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her until a bit of the sting wore off. He’d failed her. What a coward he was. When his gaze did stray back, she was still watching him.
“I know what you wanted to ask.”
His heart socked his ribs. “You do?”
She nodded, and though he couldn’t fight off his first instinct to fear the worst, her face held understanding. Her voice soft and caring, she said quietly, “You’ve wanted to ask before. What always stops you?”
Jace sighed and rubbed his neck. He should have had an honest conversation with her long before this. He glanced at the others, but they were all spread out and paying too much attention to the sky and their own conversations to notice him and Kyrin.
He refocused on her and winced. “Fear. I thought after what happened with Elon I could leave my old fears and insecurities behind. Some I have, but others I still have to fight.” He paused before admitting, “I’m afraid I can’t be the husband you deserve.”
“Jace,” she said, her smile returning full-force, “you don’t have to be afraid of that. I believe in you completely.”
If only that were all and his fears would leave him. “Thank you . . . but that is not my only fear. I think, maybe, a bigger one is . . . my fear of being a father. Growing up the way I did, I don’t have any experience in what parents even do.”
Kyrin tipped her head thoughtfully. “I don’t have much experience either. I’m not even sure I’d be a good mother but, if it came to that, I think we could figure it out together . . . just like everything else we’ve been through.”
Jace couldn’t imagine Kyrin being anything but a wonderful mother, considering her relationship with Meredith and her interaction with Saul’s children. He let her words sink in before another thought took over.
“They would be part ryrik . . . our children.” He swallowed hard. “I couldn’t bear for them to face the same hatred I did.”
Kyrin drew Jace around so they stood facing each other. “You were alone, but they would have loving parents, and uncles, and grandparents, and friends who would all show them how much they are loved. We would raise them to see their mixed blood as a blessing, not a curse. Especially now with what we’ve learned here in this village.”
Slowly, her words soothed the fears he’d been carrying. Though he would still have to conquer them completely, she’d helped him gain ground.
“I don’t want you to make this decision right here or any time just because you think you should,” Kyrin told him. “I will wait. You don’t ever have to worry about me leaving.”
All the tension drained from Jace’s body. “Thank you.”
She smiled and turned to look at the lights again, but Jace stopped her. Drawing her a little closer, he bent his head close to hers and looked her in the eyes. “I do want to marry you, Kyrin.”
Her smile widened. “I want to marry you too.”
They shared a grin, and Jace had to work mightily to resist kissing her. No doubt it would bring everyone’s attention straight to them. So he pressed his lips to her forehead instead, and then lifted his gaze to the sky, though she consumed his mind for the rest of the time they stood there.
Despite having to sleep in the loft in the barn—the only place Saul had room for all the men—Jace awoke refreshed and well-rested. Once sleep cleared completely, the first thought on his mind was Kyrin and their conversation last night. Talking it out together left him significantly lighter. Now that she knew he wasn’t just balking at the idea of marriage, a burden had lifted. He just wasn’t quite ready for that step yet, but he was confident it would come. Thank Elôm that Kyrin was so patient with him.
The barn door squeaked open below, and Saul and Kal’s quiet voices drifted up to Jace. He listened as they went about their morning chores. Kal giggled when Saul teased him, and Jace smiled wistfully. What would it have been like to grow up with a father like that? Elian would have made a good father. Jace hoped someday he would be too, if that was the future Elôm had planned for him.
Pushing aside his blanket, he sat up and glanced at the others. They appeared fast asleep still, though Talas’s hammock in the rafters was empty. Jace left his bedroll in the hay and climbed down from the loft. Saul and Kal had left the barn, so Jace wandered out to the corral where the two of them were milking the cows. Jace walked up to Saul and laid a gentle hand on the cow’s hip so as not to startle it. “Good morning.”
Saul glanced up with a smile. “Morning.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You’re a guest here. There’s no need for that.”
“Actually, I’d enjoy helping out.”
Saul cast him another glance, this one in interest. “Are you a farmer back home?”
Jace shook his head. “I’m not sure if only three years of experience before joining the Resistance makes me a farmer, but I would like to go back to it if I could.”
“Well then, Tula over there still needs milking.” Saul gestured to the third cow. “There’s another bucket just inside, and you should find another stool in the corner.”
Jace headed back to the barn and gathered the items. Though he hadn’t milked a cow in some time, the motions still felt familiar and satisfying. Being around farms and farm animals the last few days stirred his deep yearning for this life. In fact, it was surprisingly easy to picture—the little valley, a new cabin, sitting down to supper with Kyrin every night. He prayed it would work out someday despite the struggles they faced now with the emperor.
“What kind of animals did you have on your farm?” Kal asked from over at his cow.
“Actually, the farm belonged to a couple that Rayad and I lived with,” Jace told him, “but we had a few milk cows, some horses, chickens, and sheep.” He could still clearly see Kalli spinning wool during winter months. “Once in a while we had some pigs, but there were enough pickerins in the area that it wasn’t always necessary.”
“Papa hunts pickerins sometimes. He brought back a real big one last fall.”
“There are some big ones in Arcacia too.”
Jace’s mind flashed back to the last pickerin he’d ever hunted—the biggest one he’d ever come across. It was the day just before Kalli and Aldor had died and everything in his life had changed again. He fell silent for a moment at the pain that rose up and then slowly faded.
When the three of them finished milking, Saul carried the pails to the cabin and Jace helped Kal feed the rest of the animals. Saul returned a couple of minutes later to say that breakfast would soon be ready and sent Kal to the cabin to wash up. While the man closed the gate to the corral, Jace stood at the fence. He watched the animals and then glanced around to the small neighboring farms where other families finished their morning chores.
“You
have an amazing community here.” If Jace had grown up in a place like this, he never would have developed such a cynical view of people.
Saul joined him at the fence. “We work hard to keep it that way. It’s not always easy. People are bound to butt heads, but we always come together when the need arises.” He looked at Jace. “If you were ever looking for a change of scenery, you’d be more than welcome here.”
Jace took a long moment to consider the offer. It was an appealing invitation. After all, no community of humans had ever accepted him so readily. The seclusion of this place and the acceptance did tug at him, but he shook his head. “It’s tempting, but I could never live so far away from everyone I love.” And, as surprising as it would have been to him a couple of years ago, he did have a good number of people he loved.
Saul smiled. “It never really matters where you are as long as you have your family and friends with you.”
Jace agreed.
After breakfast, Saul showed most of them around the village. Jace offered to stay with Kyrin, since she couldn’t join them, but she insisted he go. She did seem perfectly content to sit and visit with Jayna.
Just before noon, Leetra returned to the village with Michael, Balen, and the others from their group. Jace smiled at the reunion between Kyrin and Michael. After the flurry of greetings, Saul led everyone inside where it was almost twice as crowded now, though no one seemed to mind. Jace and Kyrin gave them a brief retelling of their capture and rescues, and then Darq asked, “What can you tell us about this traitor crete?”
He had that intensity in his eyes like he was ready to fight someone.
“I don’t know who he is, but I know I saw him in the group backing Cray in Arvael,” Kyrin said. “He’s the only one who could have informed the ryriks where we were and who we are.”
“I wonder if he’s still with them.” Darq glanced at Talas. “Maybe after dark we can fly over the area.”
Knowing him, he was thinking about grabbing the crete.
“Leetra mentioned you heard something about Daican having a force on the way,” Balen said.
Exiles (Ilyon Chronicles Book 4) Page 28
