Arlet swallows hard. “I... haven't been sleeping.”
I think of last night in front of her home. Her crying, and a human man yelling. Daniel, I believe.What the fuck was his problem?
Ulla helps Arlet to stand. When Firelocks looks at me, she still seems different. There is no hint of joy in her eyes. No brightness. A part of me wishes to carry her to her house, but she would likely refuse.
“Lord Vann, thank you for helping Arlet,” Estela says, turning her head to me and tipping it forward. “Would you like to?—”
“I can walk,” Arlet says sharply. Her voice is higher than usual.
She doesn’t want my help. She thinks she is fine with Estela and Ulla, even though neither of them is as strong as me.
I grit my teeth, then force a smile. “I am here to help, My Queen. Lady Arlet, I wish a quick recovery, and I hope you all have a less eventful evening."
Without another word, I turn and leave.
Rubbing a hand over my face I groan.
I need to do something. I need to know what the hell is going on with that man, Daniel, and what he did to her.
Chapter 6
ARLET
The morning after…
Darkness clings to me like cobwebs, despite the spell lights bobbing overhead.
I blink. Why are there lights on? There are gaps in my memory. Blotted out with a blackness that swallows small moments whole. I remember going to my bed last night, lying down—then nothing.
A little while ago, I awoke on the floor of the greeting room. Laid out like discarded fabric. A chill took hold of me then, and I haven’t entirely thawed. Not as I went upstairs, drew a blanket around me, and sat in front of my vanity.
Drinking too much mead at my ascension had been a mistake. I hardly ever do it, and now I’m paying the price.
That has to be it.
And yet… after the party, after the drinking, there had been more.
It started with Arion’s missive. The threat between the enduares and the elves is in the waiting for one side to make the first move. That waiting would be over if I’d allowed myself to be shipped to his doorstep. Hinging the salvation of Enduvida on my marriage to him—on me giving him a child—is a cruel cosmic joke.
Lying doesn’t come easily to me. I told one lie and withheld one truth the king had no right to. Now, he wants my body to bear his heir.
And then Daniel arrived. Daniel, who promised to love me, then broke my trust in every way possible. He showed up at my house to… what? What had he wanted?
To see me? To remind me of what happened?
In the darkness of my room, sadness coils tight in my chest, familiar and sharp-edged. I remember the other time I’d been so mad with grief that I couldn’t think straight.
Unshed tears burn my eyes and a memory comes to life.
I press my hand to my stomach, but there’s nothing left to hold. The silence in the room is unbearable, almost as much as the braided fabric strewn across the bed had been. The torchlight flickers against the moldering wooden walls, casting restless shadows that stretch and fade.
Daniel kneels beside me, his hand covering mine, but it doesn’t stop the emptiness. His fingers tremble, his breath uneven.
“What did you do to my son?”
Daughter, I think.It was a daughter.
I can hear the break in his voice, the helplessness he tries to swallow.