Page 89 of The Darkest Oath

She slid her hands into her lap, her shoulders stiff with distrust. A slight, curt nod signaled for him to continue. Her face was carved with indifference, but her quivering fingers betrayed her.

“My father fought in the First Crusade,” Rollant began. His words were slow and deliberate. “He was a knight for the Kingdom of France. He died when I was a boy. My older brothers died in subsequent feudal wars. My sister perished as a child. My mother . . . She lost her life to illness, or as the physician said, a broken heart.” He looked away, his jaw tight. “I was not enough for her to want to live.”

“Knights?” she scoffed, her lips curling with disbelief. She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Rollant, that’s impossible. They’ve been gone for centuries. Whatever story this is—stop. Please.” Her voice trembled, torn between anger and fragility.

But Rollant continued, undeterred. “I grew up training as a knight. I won many awards and favors. I was King Louis the Young’s favorite warrior. In the Second Crusade, in 1148, I was murdered.”

Her scoff was immediate. “Murdered,” she repeated, her tone dripping with disbelief.

“Slain by a brother-in-arms out of greed and jealousy,” Rollant continued. “The King’s sorceress offered me immortality to serve the king. I accepted, Élise.”

He paused, but Élise was still and silent.

“I accepted because I loved Amée and Cateline. I did not want them at the mercy of the man who killed me. And so when I was restored to life immortal, I took my murderer’s life in cold blood. The sorceress cursed me for I had cursed myself—a life of disciplined virtue gone in an instant.”

Élise sighed with a slight shake of her head. “And what was this curse?” she asked.

Rollant paused, hoping the words would make it out. “If I crossed the threshold of my home, Amée and Cateline would perish,” he said, his voice breaking. “And as long as I remain immortal, anyone I embrace in love will draw their last breath.”

Élise froze, her arms tightening across her chest as if shielding herself. Her breath hitched as she stared at him, her disbelief warring with fear. Her gaze turned inward, perhaps remembering when he pulled her close and she’d lost her breath, but she snapped back.

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” she asked, her voice shaking. Anger flickered in her tone, but it couldn’t mask the fear shadowing her gaze. “After everything else you’ve lied about?”

“Believe it or not, it is true.” He tapped a fist on his thigh. “Amée was my wife when I was murdered. After I returned with my curse, I could not cross the threshold of my home nor hold her. She chose to remain my wife, bound by her vows, though it meant forty years of solitude. She raised our child alone and, when illness finally claimed her, she chose to die in my arms. It was the first time I was able to hold her, and no sooner had my arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, she gasped and drew her last breath just as the curse foretold.”

Élise’s eyes watered, though a wavering sneer perched on her lips. “I will give you this, Rollant; you are an excellent storyteller.”

“My daughter, Cateline, wanted nothing to do with me after that.”

Élise squared her shoulders to him. “And this story just keeps getting stranger, doesn’t it?”

Rollant ignored the question. “I watched over my descendants until the Black Plague took them all except my seven-year-old granddaughter, ten generations removed from me. Her parents had died, and I took her in, but she ran to me and jumped into my arms.”

The memory of Ninette’s face, twisted with panic as she gasped for air, haunted his dreams. He scratched his neck, unable to bear the weight of what he’d done.

“I buried her with the rest of my family. I locked myself away in whatever room the King had me in and cut myself off from everyone and everything except the duty I was bound to serve.”

“Then why did you not try to end your service for the king and die?” Élise asked with disdain.

He sighed. “I tried many times to desert or not do my duty, but somehow fate forced me back. It was the sorceress’ deal, and it wasn’t allowed.”

Élise stood up. “Well, that is the most colorful story I’ve ever heard. But may I ask you, what did you hope to gain by spinning these lies to me?”

Rollant looked up at her and met her gaze. “It is the truth.”

“Prove it,” she said in a whisper, though her voice was hard with scorn.

“Have I not already? You stabbed me, Gabin twisted the blade, hung me from a lamppost.”

Her lip and eye twitched. “But you said?—”

“Do you think a mortal man would have been alive by the time you came back after being strung up on his toes?”

Her eyes darted to the items around the room as she took a small step backward. She shook her head and ran her hand over her brow and through her tresses.

“Could have,” she said, her voice shaking.

His heart hurt for her. The reality she lived in unraveled before her. But he asked again, “And survived being stabbed in the chest?”

---