The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1)(71)

I wished so badly he could answer, that he could just give me one of those quick whispers of truth that he always seemed to have on hand. But he couldn’t. He never would.

I couldn’t feel him.

“I just needed you to know that, even though I don’t feel you, I’m going to remember you. And if I one day find the will to love again, I will only know if it’s love . . . because you taught me what that was. Before you, every glimpse I’d seen of it was a lie. And I didn’t know that until you came into that room, holding a golden sword, silent and proud.

“You took me without a single word. I don’t know if I ever told you. I was yours from the very start. From the second our eyes met, I was lost for you. And you promised to love me without condition, and you did. Thank you so much, Silas. Thank you.”

I looked around. I would have to lock this season into a corner of my heart, and it would have to keep beating.

“I love you. Thank you.” I kissed the tips of my fingers and touched them to the stone. Madge lifted her head as I climbed up into the saddle, and this time when I rode away, I didn’t look back.





Thirty-Six




I WAS STRUGGLING TO FIND enthusiasm for most things these days, including things I enjoyed. Eating was hard; dressing was hard. Everything was hard. So it was impossible to will myself to be cheery for the likes of Etan Northcott to visit my house, especially considering he was only coming to take away what remained of my family

Still, willing or not, he rode up the drive on a horse alongside a stately carriage that was a shade or two darker than the blue I typically associated with Isolte. I stood at the front steps, waiting to greet him as propriety dictated. His face was as somber as it was when I first met him, which left me wondering how anyone ever knew his true mood. He dismounted and walked up to me, and I extended my right hand in greeting.

“Sir Northcott. Welcome to Varinger Hall.”

He reached out to take my hand in greeting, but froze in his movements.

“What’s the matter?”

He kept his eyes on my hand. “You’re wearing the ring. That doesn’t belong to you.”

I showed him my left hand. “According to this ring, it does. Please come in. Your aunt and cousin are expecting you.”

I moved into the house, the click of his boots echoing behind me. This house needed people in it to dampen the noise. I kept my voice low, hating that I needed to tell him anything, but knowing I must.

“I feel I should warn you. Lady Eastoffe is holding up well, all things considered. She’s thrown herself into planning and caregiving. I don’t know if her grief will come to the surface soon, but be on the watch for that.”

“I will.”

“And Scarlet . . . she’s not herself at all. I don’t know if you were told, but she was in the room. She saw everything and was thrown outside. We’re not sure why.”

His mask slipped a little, and he looked genuinely pained for her sake. “Has she told you about it?”

“No. She’s hardly said anything. I hope she comes back to us, because I love her so much. But you might have to brace yourself for her to stay this way. I haven’t known what to do for her, and I don’t think Lady Eastoffe does, either. I think the best we can hope for is that time will erase her pain.”

He nodded. “And how—” He stopped quickly and cleared his throat. “How are you?”

I was sure I failed at hiding my shock that he would care. Or, if not care, ask.

“The only person I felt comfortable sharing my true heart with is gone. All of my family and most of his have left with him. . . . It’s too much to feel at once, so I’m taking it in pieces. And I think that’s all I could tell you about it.”

I didn’t trust Etan with the fact that I covered my face with my pillow at night so no one could hear me cry. I couldn’t tell him how much guilt I carried for living when so many didn’t. Though I didn’t consider Isoltens my enemies anymore—well, maybe just their king—I also didn’t consider Etan anything close to a friend.

“I am sorry,” he said.

And I wished so badly that I could have believed him.

“They’re in here,” I answered, showing him into the parlor where Lady Eastoffe and Scarlet waited.

Lady Eastoffe’s face perked up, and she stood to greet her nephew. “Oh, Etan, you darling boy. Thank you so much for coming. I’ll feel much better on the road now.”

Scarlet looked up at him, but then let her eyes fall away.

Etan turned to meet my gaze, and I gave him a shrug that said, “See what I mean?”

“I am always prepared to serve you, Aunt Whitley. We can leave as soon as you’re ready,” he offered.

“Let’s spare no time,” she replied. “The sooner we’re back in Isolte, the better.”

And my crushed heart found new ways to break.

Etan helped Scarlet down the front steps. Her silence seemed to frighten Etan, who kept looking back to me for assurance. I didn’t know what else to say; she was who she was for now.

The three of us were a study in how grief changed people. Lady Eastoffe moved on with impressive perseverance, Scarlet folded in on herself, and I . . . well, I was taking each day as it came, afraid to make any plans that took me any farther down the road than that.