Ana shot him a grateful look. “Yes, Dex, please! I went to so much trouble—I only want to become acquainted with my new sister- and brother-in-law. And I thought... I thought you might—”
“Rupert.” Dex cut through the chatter with the broadsword of his voice. “You were banned from Drakefell. I haven’t changed my mind since. You will do me the service of leaving at once.”
Rupert’s face blanched.
Ana realized she was clenching her fists so tightly that her nails were carving little crescents into her palms. “Dex, no! You can’t. For me.”
“For you,” Dex said through a clenched jaw, “I will not throw him out bodily. Just for you. Is that enough, Ana? Am I reformed enough for your taste?”
Ana’s heart sank. The wounds were too deep. His heart clenched as fiercely as his fists. What had she been thinking? She should have talked to him first. Eased him into the idea. Chippedaway at his resistance until he allowed her to invite his brother to dinner if only to silence her. But no, she’d forged ahead, straight into the maw of danger, as she always did.
And now both she and her newly found family would pay the price.
“Deckard.” Celestia rose. There was a ring of authority in her usually mellow voice. The queen was speaking. She walked slowly toward the duke, the dark blue of her skirt like a column of night sky. Ana held her breath; she sensed Rupert doing the same. Dex appeared to be frozen to the spot, a wince of pain etched on his face.
“Deckard, enough. You are justified in your anger. We made a mistake by coming here. We hoped, as we will always continue to hope, that the hurt and betrayal you feel might lessen over time, enough for you to allow us back into your life. In whatever capacity you are comfortable with, to whatever degree you are able. But you are still living in the past. You became stuck in time on that battlefield, and have never managed to become unstuck, and I grieve for you.”
“Enough. Celestia, stop.” Dex’s eyes were hollow pits.
“Yes. I grieve for the lack of you, in my life and in the life of your brother. Look at me. I am not the person you thought I was. I was not the right woman for you. You’ve always been wrong about me. It wasn’t your physical scars that daunted me, it was your mental ones. Scars that possibly, if I were a better person, stronger and more patient, I could have helped to heal. But I am not that person. And now I can see that you have that person in your life—Ana. She is a treasure. So strong, so caring and capable. She is fighting for you. She was brave enough to seek usout, to invite us to your home, to risk your good will toward her on a chance for healing, for all of us. Isn’t that a beautiful thing, Deckard? Can’t you at least acknowledge that?”
“She does whatever she wants. She’s incorrigible.” The hint of a tortured smile, quirking one corner of his mouth.
“And that’s what you want. What you need. A fighter. We’ll leave Drakefell, Dex. We won’t push any further. But we want to know Ana, if she wants to know us. And we will always be waiting, just down the hill, ready to welcome our brother back to us. When you are ready. Which I think may be sooner than any one of us imagine, if my intuition is correct.” And with that enigmatic pronunciation, Celestia glided to Rupert’s side, linked her arm through his, and led him out of the room.
Ana watched them go, tears filling her eyes so that the whole room swam. “Dex.” Her voice sounded tiny and vulnerable to her own ears. “I only wanted to help.”
“And I have told you so many times there’s no helping me. Some things are broken forever.”
Even as he spoke the words, his heart yearned to take them back. He watched shadows stripe her face, obscuring the green fire that usually lit her eyes.
“You’re still angry with them for betraying you,” she whispered. “After all this time.”
“I’m not angry, Ana. I don’t...” he continued, dragging the words out, as if feeling them out for accuracy. “...hate or... blame them anymore, in any way. I see that what Celestia did was right. I was an arrogant, entitled, cold duke. I was raised to be that way. My brother was the kind and humble one. I always saw it as a weakness in him. She made the right choice.”
“How difficult that must have been—to have lost so much in the war, and then to lose your betrothed as well.” Compassion covered her face.
“I’m still alive, aren’t I? Others aren’t, and all because of my arrogance.”
“Oh, Dex. That’s...” She rushed toward him and folded her arms around him, laying her head on his chest. He bent down to touch his cheek to her cheek.
For the briefest of moments he felt safe, loved, warm, understood... forgiven.
Never forgiven. He pulled himself upright and gently removed her arms. “I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t deserve it.”
“I don’t care if you want or deserve it. You have it. Nobody can change the past, Dex! That’s an accepted truth of life, one you seem to ignore. You attack the world with that chip on your shoulders. As if swinging away wildly at it will make the past disappear.”
“I’m not stupid. How can I make it disappear? I’m forever scarred by it physically.”
“Iforget about your scars, Dex. I don’t even see them anymore.”
“Please don’t.” He winced. “Don’t insult me with lies. Next you’ll say it’s the character of a man that makes him worthy of love. Platitudes don’t remove scars, Ana.”
“And scars don’t obscure or prevent love! They are evidence in themselves of new life, of the body protecting itself. Your scars are proof that your body wants you to be whole, to live. Your mind yearns for love, it must.”
Love. Warmth. Her warmth, her love.
“You’ve gone silent, Dex. Do I have to stand here and watch you retreat back into your cave, time after time? What is it like in there? Why do you stay?”