Page 9 of Fate of Echoes and Embers
Kael reached up, placing his hand on Mevlida’s arm, as if stopping her from saying more.
“Thank you, Issa, for your hospitality. We do not wish to impose on you for more than one eve.”
“You would leave on the morrow?”
“Aye,” he confirmed.
I had little time to decide.
“We will speak again in the morn.”
Kael’s eyes darted to Marek. I nodded, but said to Edric, “I will need more wine, please.”
At that, Marek laughed.
It was a deep sound, one of pure merriment and joy. The sound of a man with few cares, as if he was prepared to be lost in the Maelstrom Depths because of a life well lived. A sound I’d heard in my dreams, willing it away as the sun rose.
Closing the door, I spun toward him.
“You will notice, I am not laughing, Marek.”
Neither was he now, but the bold Navarch’s smile still lingered.
“I notice that, and much more, Issa.”
He dared his tone to be suggestive, and didn’t my traitorous body respond? Willing it to heel, I gave him my most stern and unforgiving expression.
“As do I, Marek. If only I’d done so the first time we met.”
Sitting, I said nothing at first. When Edric returned a moment later, Marek seemed relieved. Unfortunately for him, my steward remained long enough to fill our pewter goblets, replace the now empty wine flagon, and give me a final look of pity before leaving.
“I’m sorry, Issa.”
And there it was. Finally, after so many years. I had naught to say to his empty words. They meant nothing to me. Less than nothing. I took a long sip, wishing for a hot bath but then cursing the memory of Marek telling me what he would do to me the first time we found ourselves in a tub together. One of many promises he never kept.
“I would prefer we discuss the matter at hand.”
“I’m sorry for?—”
“Stop,” I said, unable to bear it. “I have little desire to hear your apologies now, Marek. The reason you left, without a word. The reason you never contacted me, or returned to Hawthorne Manor, later. The reason you said nothing to me at The Moonlit Current. None of it matters. Not anymore.”
“Of course it does.”
“No,” I argued. “It does not. You are here because of Mevlida and Kael. And for your queen. Not me. So I would prefer not to pretend otherwise or this will never work.”
He didn’t reply.
The intensity of his stare, the absence of an ever-present smile, often bordering on a smirk, almost had me shifting in my seat. Instead, I took a sip of my wine, held firm, and tried to forget his many more years of experience. Dealing with immortals was immensely draining at times.
This was one of those times.
I am Lady Isolde Hawthorne, daughter of two nobles who traced their roots to the origins of humans in Elydor. And before that, to kings in the human realm. I cannot control Marek’s thoughts or actions, but I can control my own and will not back down. He will never have my heart again.
“I’ll say nothing more on it than this,” Marek said finally. “I was a coward to leave as I did. If I could have trusted myself to say goodbye and not stay, I’d have done so. Should have done so. I should have said that in The Moonlit Current but was taken aback by your presence. By the time I’d gathered my wits about me, you were gone. And by your reaction, I thought staying away was for the best.”
I could hear the thud of my heart in both ears. How long had I craved for such an explanation? How many questions did I construct in my mind, wishing I could ask? There was a time, not long after he left, I’d have given everything to hear those words. But that time was long past.
If I could have trusted myself to say goodbye and not stay.
