Page 64 of The Curse and the Silver Rose

He frowned. “You keep repeating what I say. Reylene said you didn’t have a head injury, but perhaps she was wrong.”

“You . . . you—” She cast around for the right word. “You oaf! I do not know where to begin. Do you only care about my physical condition? So that you might throw me on a horse at the first available moment?”

He held up his hands. “No, I?—”

“I had not finished,” she snapped. “You and my brothers decided my fate behind my back once again. If you’re all so concerned for my well-being, perhaps you should’ve thought of that before making bargains with my life!”

“You are right?—”

“I know I am right!”

Her head spinning, she sat on the edge of the bed. “You said you wanted to marry me. Did you only say that so I would lie with you? Is that it? Have I been a fool?”

Feeling horribly vulnerable, like she was offering her still-beating heart on her palm, she looked up. Davron’s mouth turned down at both corners.

“That’s not it,” he said. “You are not a fool. I am.”

“Then why can’t I stay? If I accept the danger of Levissina, why can’t you honor my decision? Instead, you leave me without one altogether. You didn’t even discuss it with me. I don’t understand.”

“No,” he said, touching the skull tattoo on his forearm. “You do not.”

Amelie went to him and took his hand. “Please explain it to me, then.”

“What is there to say?” He withdrew his hand and stepped back. “You are leaving. There is no discussion.”

Stung, she folded her arms. “Oh. I see.”

“I can live with a lot of things, Amelie. But I can not live with your blood on my hands. I need you walking this earth, and I will not apologize for it. I was a fool for behaving like a man who can make sweet promises and declarations. I am not, nor will I ever be. For leading you down a path with no destination, I am sorry. More sorry than you will ever know. The only way I might save a shred of integrity is to ensure you get safely home among your family. Free to live your life as you choose.”

She swallowed hard. “And if you are the life I choose?”

“I refuse it. I refuse you.”

Amelie put her hand to her chest, breathless with hurt. Her face began to crumple, tears welling. “Please leave. I will collect my things. Tell my brothers I will be down shortly.”

Davron closed his eyes and bowed his head, but he did not move.

“Go,” she said through gritted teeth. “Please.”

He raised his wine-red stare to her, his chest heaving.

“Go!” she yelled.

The word came out as a loud sob, betraying her rage for the despair it was. Mortified, she covered her face with her hands and turned around. Moments later, the door clicked closed.

Amelie sank to her knees and cried, her shoulders shaking with the force of the sobs. She hadn’t known she was capable of feeling a heartache so brutal. It was different from losing her mother or father. Not worse necessarily, but far more cutting. The world seemed to be ending. For her, in a way, it might have been.

He claimed to act for her benefit. How would he feel if he knew that his rejection injured her far worse than a raider or sorceress ever could? Perhaps he did know, and he did not care. He seemed committed to severing their bond utterly.

Amelie cried until her sobs turned to sniffles and her tears began to dry. At least her lungs were still in fine operation, she thought glumly. The exquisite agony of heartbreak was the only pain in her chest now.

Once she’d washed her face in the bathroom, her base-level pride returned. She would not allow Davron, nor her brothers for that matter, to see her in disarray. They could upend her life twice in one month, but they would not see her in pieces.

As she combed her hair and smoothed her dress, she acknowledged that neither Davron nor her brothers wished to hurt her. She even began to feel ashamed for calling Davron an oaf. The man was cursed, for goodness sake.

None of this was easy on him, Amelie, or her siblings. None of them meant harm. No one inside the walls of the castle, anyway. She would conduct herself with grace. If she needed to weep, she would do it quietly while alone in her bed.

In his obstinate, opaque, frustrating way, Davron believed he was doing the right thing. And perhaps he even was. But that didn’t mean Amelie had to like it.

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