“I know.” He smiled to himself. “And, in truth, you are a little bigger around your hips and thighs now, but it really suits you, Ara,” he added as I began my protest. “You filled out, left that teen figure behind and you’re lovely pregnant. And I should have told you that.”
I bit my lip to hide the smile. Drake was wrong; he wasn’t hexed. He was angry, yeah, and that made him shut me out. But my David was still in there, and he still loved me. I was sure of it. If he was hexed to hate me, there’s no way he could show love like that.
“On another note,” he added, “I was also blood starved.”
“Oh, blaming your moods on hunger, huh?”
“Taking a leaf out of your book, you mean?” He laughed, jabbing me in the ribs until I giggled. “In all honesty though, the moods didn’t help. But when all is said and done, Ara, I am sorry for the things I said to you, and I want you to know that I wanted to mean them. Doesn’t mean I did. Well, not all of them anyway.”
“So you meant some of them?”
“Some.” He nodded. “Yes.”
“Like the fact that you hate me—can never forgive me?” I asked, hoping he’d just say I was wrong; that he would, one day, forgive me.
His throat shifted as he swallowed, looking out over the darkening gardens. “Nothing between us can ever… I won’t go back. You know that. But I don’t want you to think that I don’t still see the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known every time I look at you. And I don’t want you to think that I can’t let the past be the past—at least enough to, hopefully, be friends one day.”
My heart left my chest and died in a tight box. “Friends, huh?”
“I want you to be happy. I truly do. I always have.” He turned and gently scooped my hand up in his, not really holding it but more… touching it. “Which is why I think you should go with my brother when he leaves.”
“Leaves?”
“He hasn’t told you?”
“No. I mean, he mentioned something about working at the asylum, but—”
“Jason’s been offered a position in New York. At the IVRS.”
I studied his face for a moment, but he wouldn’t look at me. “And you want me to leave with him?”
“You… if you’re ever to be happy, the relationship with my brother needs time to flourish. And that can’t happen here with me looking over your shoulder.”
“Or is it that you want time to move on—without me walking in on you?” I stood up, dying a thousand deaths in one breath. I searched for a reason, within the farthest reaches of sanity, why David would ever tell me to go away with Jason. My possessive, controlling David, who wouldn’t even let me be friends with Jase two months ago, now wanted me to run away with him. There had to be more to it. And I could only think of one thing: “This is about Pepper, isn’t it?”
“Ara. No.” He stood up too.
“You only left her because she was arrested.” I brushed away his reaching hand. “You only met me because of that! But she’s back now, and—”
“Ara, please.” He swept in and grabbed my arm. “It’s not like that. She’s sixteen years old, for God’s sake.”
“Her human age made no difference before.”
“Yes, but I’m a different man, now. I see no appeal in her youth or her innocence.”
“Then why do you want me gone?”
“I don’t want you gone. I want you to move on and, for whatever reason you’re doing it, stop holding on to the past.”
I jerked out of his grasp. “What are you talking about?”
“I will never be able to take you back, Ara—you have to realize that.” His eyes flicked across my face in search of understanding. “I may have given you the impression lately that there’s a hope for us. I’m sorry. But even if I still loved you, I don’t want you anymore. Ever.”
I tried to hold onto some self-respect, but I could feel the hurt paralyzing all my limbs.
“Frankly,” he continued, “I’m not sure why you’re even wasting your life waiting for me to have a change of heart.”
“Who says I’m waiting for it?”
“I can read your mind, Ara,” he said gently, tilting his head to one side.
I felt stupid and pathetic under that pitiful gaze.
“Look, in a way, it’s kinda sweet.” He touched his chest. “Believe me, it warms my heart to think you could possibly ever forgive me for the way I’ve treated you, but I just don’t understand why you’d need to. You have Jason now, and—”
“So that’s it,” I said, looking at my feet. “I made one mistake and now, no matter what I want or don’t want, you don’t care? You’re just walking away from me forever?”
“Don’t pretend this isn’t what you want, Ara! You’ve been pining for him since he abducted you and brutalized you!”
“That’s not true!”
“Yes, it is. You can’t lie to me anymore.” The strength and volume in his voice made mine disappear. “The fact is, you’re holding on to me because one man is not enough for you—never was. You have some twisted need to be loved by everything with a penis.”
I stepped back, so overcome by that cruel statement that I just didn’t know what to say. He had so much reasoning. He had so much conviction. If this was a hex, he wouldn’t be so clear, so decided.
How could I have been so stupid to think his kindness meant he wanted me? I wanted to scream right now and say there must be a hex; there must be something wrong with him. But, in truth, it just seemed like… plain old-fashioned hatred. I’d done wrong by him. What did I expect?
I couldn’t mask the atrocities of my betrayal, downplay them by labeling his hatred for me a hex. It wasn’t that easy. And as the truth sunk through me, all hope died again, expanding before me in a lonely eternity.
I looked down at my mood-ring. Lilith was right.
And yet, I wouldn’t go with Jason, because I would always hold out for things to change. But I wouldn’t accept his conversation, friendship, or kindness anymore. I just couldn’t take the pendulum. I felt like a neck at the mercy of a guillotine with a frayed rope.
“If that’s what you really believe about me,” I said, “then I guess there’s no need for you to stop and talk with me again, is there?”
He drew a long gulp of air into the back of his throat, closing his eyes so slowly it looked like his gut was on fire, beads of sweat collecting across his brow.
And with his fists balled, he turned away stiffly and disappeared, leaving me alone in the coming night.
* * *
The bacon at the base of my plate made a smiley face with egg eyes—the only smile I could stand to see today. I couldn’t bring myself to face a dawn walk to the Stone this morning, in case I saw Lilith and had to endure an I-told-you-so speech.
Everyone had made me so convinced that David still loved me. All those little things people had been saying—all those little moments he’d been nice. To wake up and realize how wrong they all were was so crushing I couldn’t breathe when I first opened my eyes. And sitting at the table now, I couldn’t find my appetite either, despite my tummy growling.
Everything else in the world was normal today; the people, the staff, the clank of spoons and glasses under quiet chatter, except that something had shattered apart while I slept, and I was the only one that noticed the giant hole showing through my chest. Quaid and Blade didn’t even notice I was upset. They sat there discussing the shopping trip that Emily, Mike, Jason and Pepper had returned from late last night and were still sleeping off, and Arthur just sat there with a pair of narrowed eyes, focusing intently on the silver dish in front of him, his fingers in a steeple by his mouth. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him that deep in thought.
I tried to get his attention, but a quiet voice came through my own thoughts.
Ara?
My eyes darted up to meet David’s, but I stopped them before they got past Falcon, and smiled at him instead, pretending I didn’t hear.
Ara. Please,
talk to me, David tried again.
“You at the clinic today, Falcon?” I asked pleasantly.
“For half the day. Then I’m back here for a few hours’ study with Arthur.” He whacked Arthur on the back, waking him with a jolt.
“Yes,” Arthur coughed, wiping his mouth on his napkin. “Though it seems I have very little left to teach you.”
“I’m a fast learner.” Falcon winked at me, sipping his juice.
“Good. Because if this baby gets stuck,” I said suggestively, laying my hands out flat over my bump. “We’re screwed.”
“Stuck?” David looked up, cutting off the conversation he was having with the man beside him.
“Yeah,” Blade said. “Didn’t Ara tell you? Her skin is completely solid around the baby. We can’t just cut it out.”
A few people cringed, including me. This really wasn’t breakfast conversation.
“No,” he said. “She didn’t mention that.”
“It’ll be fine,” Falcon assured. “If it gets stuck, we can just knock her unconscious and cut it out the end it normally comes from.”
I shut that image out of my mind along with the horrified gasps around me.
“She’s penetrable there?” David asked, although it really sounded like more of an accusation. “You’ve tested this?”
“Of course not,” Arthur cut in, no pun intended. “We’re not a pair of brutes, son.”
“But her bones break,” Falcon added lightly, clearly finding this amusing. “I can just snap her hips apart and reach up to drag the kid out.”
I put my fork down. No breakfast would enter the gob of eternal hunger now. Any traces of my appetite had been squashed along with my pride, and was finished off with seeing Falcon mime the action of his arm going elbow-deep into my most sensitive cavity.
Everyone watched Falcon, but David’s concerned gaze stayed on my face, I could feel it. I, however, maintained a steady interest elsewhere.
“Ara?” he said aloud.
This time I was forced to acknowledge him. “Mm?”
“Are you okay, sweetheart? You’re very pale.”
All heads turned, eyes finding me and my pasty complexion.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and somehow managed to say the stupidest thing I could think of. I blame the ogre. But it may simply be that I wanted to stab him, open his wounds and make them as raw as mine were. “Just thinking about New York.”
“New York?” Nate asked. “Why New York?”
David sat back heavily in his seat, one elbow propped on the arm, a fist supporting his turned head. I watched him watching the day outside, then smiled down at Nate, rearranging my napkin in my lap.
“I’m thinking about visiting the IVRS soon, that’s all.”
That sparked a few conversations around the table about science, the topic coming slowly back to Drake and what he might do once the IVRS swore allegiance to me.
Falcon and Blade debated with Ryder and Quaid about the kind of protection we should be offering the children and the village now, and David just kept his eyes on the terrace outside. Meanwhile, my teeth berated my tongue for stirring him up that way when I knew, and my mouth knew, I had no intentions of going with Jason. Not in a million years. But the hurt and desperately sad woman inside me wanted to see what David would say if he really did get his own way.
“Isn’t Jason heading to New York soon?” Margret asked. “I heard he was offered a position there.”
David sat up in his chair, grabbing the very end of his fork to poke at his breakfast.
“He is, in fact, yes,” Walt said. “I’m not sure he means to accept, but he’s made plans to at least see what is on offer. Did you intend to travel with him, Queen Amara?”
I tried not to look at David as I said it, but I couldn’t help myself. “Yes. And I might stay for a while.”
The king showed no signs of either caring or not caring. Falcon did, though, frowning at me then at David and back again. When he realized what was really going on, he sat back with a grin and nodded. He knew me better than anyone at this table, and he knew damn well I wasn’t going with Jason—not even for a visit. So did Blade, who shook his head, rolling his eyes as he went back to his conversation with Emily.
“Will you be making your intentions toward the king’s brother official then?” Walt asked, and the entire table hushed.
David grew slightly taller in his chair.
“Uh, um.” Oh crap. Not the direction I planned for this to go.
“I would say it’s about time,” Margret added, placing her blood goblet down. “The queen is allowed more than one husband and we’ve all seen the attraction between the two.”
“Yes, but our queen is not a bigamist,” Arthur growled defensively. “She has no ‘intentions’ toward the king’s brother.”
“Yet, it’s no secret she’s been spending time with him—that the king and queen have slept apart for months now,” Margret said in that snooty tone. “It’s not healthy for a girl to be alone so long.”
“How does the king feel about it?” Roger asked David directly. “Surely you must have some say.”
“Yes,” an old Rune Reader added. “In these modern times it’s just not heard of for a wife to marry another.”
“And is it not against the laws for her to marry her own brother, though he be that only by law?”
A few heads nodded and voices hummed in united agreement.
It was David’s time to shine—to finally have his say, in public, on the matter.
He stilled himself, composed and kingly as ever, and lightly drummed his fingers once on the table, bringing them up to rest by the corner of his mouth after.
The whole room waited, barely anyone breathing.
“The queen is aware of my wishes on the matter.” He stood up calmly, flicking his napkin down onto his plate. “She is free to do as she pleases. No matter what the law dictates.”
No one expected that. I could tell from the open mouths all up and down the table. But they went back to eating quietly, beginning light conversations again on matters that nowhere near related to royalty or bigamy, as David’s shadow receded from the Great Hall.
* * *
The last page fluttered in the light wind, sitting restfully on top of the ‘finished’ pile. I sat back in the chair and crossed my hands on the desk, propping my feet up on the small wedge under it to enjoy the bright morning light—the way it made the shelves look almost yellow and the books kind-of white. An old portrait of either Eve or Lilith as a child kept me company in these long hours of queenly duties, and I’d looked at it many times, seen it from many angles, but found myself staring a little harder today.
The child stood facing the viewer, with hair of gold in long waves over her shoulders, a pair of black boots over black-and-white striped stockings, only just visible from under the folds of her deep blue dress. Her eyes shone out unnaturally like gemstones, as it seems all the eyes in this bloodline do, and it was those eyes that always distracted me. A strange feeling came over me every time I searched this painting, and that same sense of déjà vu lingered again today, except that it seemed like her eyes had changed—as if she was trying to tell me something. Warn me of something.
“My Queen.”
I jumped out of my skin and sat up straight, composing myself as I politely acknowledged the man at my desk. “Roger. Hello. What brings you here? I thought we were done for today.”
“We are, Majesty.” He slid a cluster of papers toward me. “But this adoption contract needed your signature.”
“Contract?” I picked it up and turned it the right way. “But Walt usually handles these. Why has it come to my desk?”
“The Master of the House thought it best if you oversaw this one.” He bowed again and walked away, leaving me with the sour taste of confusion and a mild sting of concern in my mouth.
With unsteady hands I opened the contract to the first page, and when the words Max, Josh and Michael Christopher Wh
ite jumped out at me, I jumped straight out of my seat. The ever-dutiful Mike was up early this morning for work, despite having a rather tiresome day with Pepper yesterday, and I knew exactly where to find him.
A thick storm cloud whirled overhead as I marched down to the Training Hall, contract in hand. What was he thinking? He’d submitted this application weeks ago, and his closest most bestest friend was only just finding out now! From a third party. A third party that was a piece of paper, nonetheless.
As I burst through the doors of the Training Hall and held the contract up, a room full of stunned faces turned on me.
“Ara?” Mike looked up, a marker poised by an unfinished word on the whiteboard in front of him. “I mean, Queen Amara. What brings you here?”
The room of men rose then from their classroom seats, and dropped down simultaneously to one knee, rapping a fist to their chests.
“Um—” I put a hand up as a proverbial white flag. “At ease. I uh… I just came to sit in.”
As the men sat down at their desks again, Mike frowned at me, miming “What?”
I showed him the contract and his eyes widened, his head moving in a very obvious nod.
“See me after,” I mouthed, aiming a finger at the third party, then I sat my butt down on the bench by the mirror and listened in.
“As I was saying.” He finished writing the word on the board, his hand shaking slightly. “There are a few different types of swords, but our soldiers only use one type. Which is?”
A man in the back put his hand up and said, “The short sword.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s effective in close combat, can be used with one hand and can cut as well as stab.”
“And?”
“And it can be hung from a sword belt,” another man added.
“Correct.” Mike capped the marker and reached behind the whiteboard where he’d stored a number of different types of swords on the table. He presented a fat silver blade to the class that shimmered as he angled it down his arm, comparing the length. “Our aim is quite simply to cut the flesh as fast and effectively as we can, or to perhaps perforate a vital organ. Vampires have tough skin, impenetrable to the human hand, but not to the bullet, and not, also, to a blade wielded by a vampire. We have the strength to cut them with a butter knife if we choose, so why do we use Lilithian steel?”
Echoes & Silence Part 1 Page 33
