Broken (The Captive #5.5)(75)

Now that he was alone, he slipped the gold band from the pocket inside his tunic and slid it onto his finger where it belonged. His uncle could never know about it though, or anyone else outside of himself, Merle, and Camille, but he would keep the ring with him whenever he could. Rising to his feet, he walked over to the small table in the corner and placed the writing materials on top of it. Settling into the chair, he stared at the blank parchment before him for a few minutes before leaning forward and beginning to write…

September 1, 1050

My dearest Genny,

I said goodbye to Camille today. I suspect you would have preferred for us to stay together, to heal together, but there is no healing for me and it would be best for her if she wasn't around me. You see, I'm not me anymore…





CHAPTER 25


"Atticus." He didn't turn to look at Merle. He'd known his cousin was there before he had spoken, he'd just been hoping that he would go away. They'd been back in Italy for nearly a week now, the meetings with The Council were well underway. It had been an endless day of pretending to be sane, pretending to be something that he wasn't and he was exhausted.

"What is it?" he inquired without turning away from the night.

He could hear the ocean crashing against the rocks of the cliff just below his villa but he didn't bother to look down at the water. The night appeared as bleak as he felt as he lifted the goblet to his mouth. He didn't bother with wine anymore, the alcohol may have helped to ease him the last time that he'd been separated from Genny, but she'd still been alive then. Now he needed a clear head. Though he had tried to lose himself to the alcohol while onboard the ship one night, he'd discovered that no matter how much of it he consumed, the wine did nothing for him anymore and he was unable to taste it.

Now the viscous liquid that pooled down his throat was blood from the human servant he had bled for it earlier. A part of him knew that Genny wouldn't approve of what he was becoming even if he had managed to refrain from killing the woman, but he had no control over the part of himself that needed the blood anymore.

Time was supposed to heal, he found himself being sucked deeper into the dreary abyss of nothing that had become his soul. The gaping hole within him was growing; the madness ate at his mind as relentlessly as the waves battered the rocks on shore. Blood was the only thing that helped to ease it even a little; vengeance was the only thing that he craved.

"Silas has sent a messenger," Merle replied.

He lifted the goblet and took another long swallow. Blood was the only thing he could taste anymore and though it wasn't sweet or even spicy like he remembered it tasting before, the acrid taste of it was at least something. Just being able to taste anything made him feel a little more like the man he'd once been.

"What does he say?" Atticus inquired.

"He'd like to know if you wish to postpone the wedding, given the death of your father."

"No."

He listened as Merle stepped into the room and closed the door. "This may be your chance to get out of this marriage now."

"Why would I want to do that?"

Before Merle could approach his chair, Atticus finally turned to look at him. His cousin's blue eyes were filled with concern as he held his hands helplessly before him. "It's clear to me that you're still grieving Genny. I know this marriage was never what you wanted."

"It is now," Atticus said flatly.

Merle frowned in confusion. "Why?"

"It is a good match."

His cousin stared at him before shaking his head. He dropped it down to run his hand through his disheveled hair. "Are you sure about this?"

"The alliance is a strong one." And one he would need in the future. "I'd be a fool to turn it down."

Merle hesitated before shaking his head. "Put it off Atticus; give yourself time to move on…"

"I will never move on, Merle." It was the first time he'd admitted that to his cousin, and he immediately regretted the words but annoyance festered inside of him at Merle's insistent words. "I will fulfill my duties and be done with it." It was a lie but that was best kept to himself.

He turned in the chair and drank down the rest of the blood within the goblet. Merle stood behind him for a minute more before finally leaving the room again. By not postponing the wedding, he would be wed again at the end of next week. Only, to him, this one wouldn't count.

***

October 1, 1050

My dearest Genny,

Yesterday I married a woman that I want nothing to do with, but I forced myself through the ceremony. I didn't cringe or walk away when I kissed her and though my stomach turned when I inhaled her lilac scent, I kept my hand on her arm when we turned to face the small crowd. She's nothing like you Genny, that is a good thing though. If she reminded me of you in any way I'm not sure I could do what must be done.

Atticus put the quill down and stared around the room he had shared with Anna last night. She was still in the bed, buried beneath the mound of blankets. The most beautiful woman in the world was lying in his bed and yet it did nothing to arouse him. He simply sat and stared at her, wishing that she was someone else entirely, and that he had rethought his decision to walk out of the fire that had killed his father.

His thoughts drifted back to last night, when they had finally retreated from the celebration to this room. Anna's apprehension and shyness had been evident and though she was only a stepping-stone in his plans, he wasn't about to force himself on her, mainly because the idea of having sex with her was entirely repulsive to him. There had been no other women since Genny and if he'd been able to, he would have preferred to keep it that way for the rest of his life. That wasn't going to be possible though, not if he was going to have children, not if he was going to rise in power.