Page 38 of Knightfall
Ryan barked a laugh. “Yes, I snuck down to play tea-party with her often. Of course not. Didn’t she tell you?”
“Who? What? Who’s supposed to tell me what?” I asked. I tried to search his deep brown eyes for answers, but I could hardly make them out in the darkness of the tunnel. Only the occasional stream of light from a spy hole lit our way.
“Darling wife, that mother of yours is quite the strategist.”
“If by strategist, you mean controlling, conniving battleax, I’ll agree,” I spat back out of habit, more than anything. It was true. She was a conniving wench. But with mother’s recent gift, I didn’t put sting into those words. Not the way I used to.
Ryan laughed again, and this time my lady parts did react. “That’s exactly what I mean. From the moment we signed our engagement contracts, we’ve all been unable to ‘find release’ with any other woman. The spell was woven into the paper, and the binder placed in the ink. Or so Declan seems to think.” Ryan’s tone was reflective.
I went into shock. Utter shock. My stomach was gone. It dropped out somewhere on the floor and was left behind as Ryan began to climb the circular staircase leading to my tower room.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
“But, we … you signed that contract when I was sixteen.” That was six years ago. Sixyears.
“Yes,” Ryan’s voice is soft.
“No wonder you hate me so much.”
“You think that’s the only reason we hate you?”
“Of course not. But it’s got to multiply the hatred. Two, three times? More?” He didn’t answer. I didn’t really expect an answer. “No wonder you were angry when I said I’d been at a whorehouse—”
He chuckled. “Livid. I don’t think angry covers half of it. I thought your mother had only made the spell one-sided. To think, you’d run off for four years, that you’d been with other men. I wanted to rip you in half.”
“I thought you’d break my bones into matchsticks.”
“I might have tried.” He pulled me closer. “But it wasn’t one-sided, was it?” his voice hitched, revealing how much my answer mattered.
I thought back to Marcus and Abel. We’d kissed. They’d groped. There had been nothing even close to release. And, looking back on it, I’d been so drunk at the time, but there had been a strange compulsion to leave. I’d thought I was simply going to puke. But maybe the stomach churning, gut-wrenching feeling had been the spell. I’d certainly never wanted to repeat the experience. No matter how they’d begged.
I tightened my arms around Ryan and whispered, “No. It wasn’t one-sided. I had no idea about that spell, though. If I had—”
“Don’t lie.”
I took a deep breath. He was right. He was being honest. Vulnerable. I had to be, too. It was only fair. “I still would have left. But I would have tried to break that spell before I went. I would have tried to set you all free. I never meant to make such a mess of things. I honestly thought it would help.”
“Why?”
I leaned into Ryan, resting my cheek on his chest. Though his body was hard, it was strangely comfortable. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek. It was steady. He wasn’t angry right now. He was curious. Anyone would be, if their fiancé ran away. He deserved some form of explanation. Especially now that I knew exactly how much he’d suffered.
But how could I answer him? What could I say with the geas blocking me? I spoke slowly and carefully, testing the words as I said them. “You have the power to heal gently, without pain. But it makes you rage. Quinn can speak to others’ minds but loses his voice. Declan can multiply something but must decrease something else for balance. Connor can feel others emotions but then loses his head to depressing thoughts. What about—” But the geas wouldn’t let me finish the sentence. Somehow the spell knew I was too close to revealing my nature.
Sarding hell! I wanted to scream. My insides bunched up in emotion and frustration. “I can’t—I can’t—you need to talk to Declan. I can’t say anymore. It won’t—” The geas cut me off again. This time a tear of frustration did slide down my cheek.
Ryan fell silent.
“More spells?” his question seemed to echo off the stones.
My mouth opened, but words wouldn’t come. I grabbed his hand and held it to my lips so he could feel the movement. I hoped that would show him I couldn’t say. That I was trying, but that I couldn’t talk.
He didn’t question me further. I hoped he’d heard the honesty and the frustration in my voice. I hoped he didn’t just dismiss me as Declan had. I prayed someone would be able to puzzle me out. Because that was the only way my knights and I could have an honest discussion about why I left. And why they needed to prepare for a life that probably wouldn’t involve me.
Ryan finally reached the secret door to my tower room.
He set me down and ran his hand along the magical seam. The handle appeared, and he held open the door like a true gentleman.
