Page 67 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

It was the sound of broken glass grinding beneath his feet that finallywoke her.

When the pair noticed each other from across the room, Aisling rose from the chair defensively, seemingly just as prepared to face Kael’s anger as he had been to feel it. They stood facing each other down nearly for an eternity before Kael stalked towards her. Aisling stumbled in her haste to clear the chair and backed into the stone wall. Her eyes were wide and fearful.

Kael stopped a foot away despite the insistent tugging feeling inside urging him to move even closer. Though his heart raced, his voice came out steady and sure when he asked, “Why are you here?”

Aisling looked away, fixing her gaze on the lowest burning candle on his dresser. Kael waited and waited for her answer while she appeared to be giving each word great consideration as she pulled them together. His own mind filled her silence unbidden with fresh lies she might tell, or excuses. Perhaps Raif had threatened her to return, and it hadn’t been her decision at all.

Finally, she answered: “Because I care about you.” She said it simply and quietly and he could hear—couldfeel—the truth of it.

“That is a curse I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy,” Kael said wryly as he took another cautious step forward.

“You can’t make me leave again.” Aisling was looking up at him now. By the stubborn set of her jaw and the defiant tilt of her chin, Kael knew she wasn’t likely to yield. She reached out as though to brush her hand over his arm but appeared to think better of it and dropped it back to her side. “I’m not going to leave,” she insisted once more.

Something inside of him—that writhing, coiling thing that felt always ready to burst out of his chest, fracturing bones and tearingskin—settled. The vicious heat that seemed to pulse constantly through his veins cooled, just slightly.

“I would not ask you to.” Certainly his assurance was no grand declaration, but it was the best he could manage, and he hoped that for now it would be enough.

Aisling nodded, shifting like she was suddenly uncomfortable with their closeness. Kael took a step back and she swept her eyes over his exposed skin. “You look better.”

“Thanks to you,” Kael supplied. He pulled down the collar of his tunic so she could see that the scarring was almost entirely camouflaged. She once again looked as though she wanted to touch him, and once again pulled herself back. Kael berated himself momentarily for the way his pulse had quickened at the sight of her reaching for him, for the warmth that had crept into his heart uninvited. He had to remind himself to keep his distance.

“Raif told me that it’s from an old injury,” Aisling said. She paused then to let Kael fill in the rest. With a heavy sigh, he gestured towards the table. He pulled out a chair for Aisling to sit, then took a seat across from her. Golden light danced over her face, softening her features and making her eyes sparkle. For just a moment, Kael let himself appreciate the girl seated across from him. He’d never imagined the Red Woman would be beautiful.

“I told you,” he began, “that I was made king because of my magic. I was raised by the Prelates from birth to fulfill this role because of the gift that I was given by the Low One.” He tried to keep his mind on the present while he spoke. He didn’t want to get lost in the memories of that part of his life.

“A vessel,” she recalled.

Kael nodded. “I’ve been revered as a symbol of unmatched power all my life. The Prelates knew what I was capable of long before I did; they pushed me to my limits, again and again, under the guise of instruction. They—and the Low One—were the only family I ever knew. It was by their teachings that I learned greed.”

Aisling leaned in, listening intently. Taking in every word, formulating a clearer image of Kael in her head. He only hoped it wouldn’t be too monstrous.

“They were never satisfied, and so neither was I. I wanted more: to improve my power, to expand my kingdom. To overtake Wyldraíocht and see the end of the Seelie Court. I was young, and hot-headed.”

“And that’s changed?” Aisling teased gently, one eyebrow raised.

“Would you like to know what happened or not?” he chided. He’d missed her quick humor, though. If he had the energy, he may have even laughed.

She held up her hands. “Alright, alright. No more interruptions.”

“I was frustrated, as were the Prelates, by my lack of control. I could manage it, but it was inconsistent. I knew that if I could only harness my magic, gain permanent mastery over it, I could be ten times more powerful than even they anticipated. A hundred times more. That greed drove me down a dangerous path.” Kael began to bounce his leg beneath the table. Aisling slid one foot forward to rest the toe of her shoe against his boot, and he took a breath.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this, Kael. You don’t owe me an explanation.” Her gaze was sympathetic, devoid of judgement. He let it comfort him.

“I communed with the Low One; begged him for an answer. What he gave, I misinterpreted. I attempted to complete a blood rite to strengthen my control. All magic comes with a price, butSangelasmost of all. Its price is costly, and painful. This was how I paid.” He looked away from her then, gesturing briefly to the left side of his body.

“I pushed my magic to the very edge of what I could handle, and then beyond that,” Kael continued. “And what little control I had even then was stripped away. What I have now is a fraction of what I had before, at most. I regret it.” In truth, there were many things Kael regretted. Giving voice to his regret for sending Aisling away only made him realize all of the others that he’d so carefully concealed from himself over the years.

“I’m sorry that you’ve had to bear all of this alone,” Aisling whispered.

He gave only a tight nod. “We do what we must to survive without considering what it will be like to live with those things afterwards.”

When she finally, finally reached out to brush her fingers over the back of his hand, the tension fell from his shoulders. There was a secret part of Kael that had wanted Aisling to see him this way; wanted to know that she would still care for him even when she saw every broken, cruel, twisted fragment. The sharp edges that would, and had, hurt her. The blind fury that he wore as armor. To know that she could see through all of the bitter hatredinto his core where that centuries-old storm raged, and that she wouldn’t fear the tempest that waited there.

And here she sat, undeterred and unafraid. Her empathy was a force of nature.

She smoothed her thumb across his knuckles. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sure it’s not easy to talk about.”

“You are the only one who’s ever known the full story,” Kael admitted. The Prelates knew only that he’d tried and failed; Raif knew only that he’d sacrificed a part of himself to become a stronger king. None but Aisling and himself knew of the blinding, hungry greed that had driven him to the ritual. And none but the two of them would ever know of his regret for attempting it.

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