The Disappearance of Winter's Daughter (Riyria Chronicles #4)(116)

“I need to know. Do you really love me?” she insisted, grabbing him by the arms and holding him fast.

“How can you ask such a thing?”

“Because everyone says you married me for my money or the crown.”

“That’s not true.” His voice was stern, his eyes growing dark and stormy.

“Then why? Why do we sleep in separate rooms? Why on our wedding night didn’t you come to me . . . that night or any other. Why have you been so distant?”

The storm faded and Leo looked down. The expression on his face shifted to pain and embarrassment.

It is true. He doesn’t—

“I’m an old man, Genny. Set in my ways. I don’t like too many people; even fewer like me. Living here, surviving in this place, it teaches you not to trust anyone. You learn early that people only take—they never give. Loyalty is a word that means ‘What can I get from you, and for how long?’ I’ve had to guard myself, and I have, but it makes for a lonely life. But you’re different, knew it the moment I met you. So bright, cheerful, smart, and open. You never asked how many servants I had, or how big my holdings were. That was so odd.”

She smiled.

“You never really asked anything of me, except which whiskey I liked best, and what was my favorite food.”

“Rye for the drink and apple-braised venison to eat,” she confirmed.

He nodded. “I was drowning, Genny, and empty at the same time, and you were a lifeline, one I never thought I’d find. You gave me a reason to live when I didn’t have one. I needed you . . . but you didn’t need me. You were rich, beautiful, smart—what could I offer you?”

Beautiful?

“And what am I? Selfish, that’s what. I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Genny’s eyes widened. “You regret your proposal?”

“I wanted to marry you,” he assured her. “I just thought you would refuse. The question was my way to end our relationship before it went too far. But you said yes.”

“I don’t understand, Leo. What are you talking about?”

“You should be queen and so much more. But I couldn’t provide any of the things you deserve. Many thought I was the front-runner for the crown, but I knew better. Rochelle is such a mess, and if I’m not able to properly administer my own finances, why would the bishop put me in charge of an entire kingdom?”

“Leo, my love, I don’t care about being queen. It’s you I want. Only you.”

“Is it? Is that all? What about children, Genny? And you’d be such a wonderful mother. Your children would grow up to be strong, determined, and honest. I can never give you that. I can’t give you children. I can’t give any woman children. To be honest, I can’t do much of anything. Swords are dangerous things, and in battles men have lost eyes, arms, and legs. I was wounded years ago, in a nameless battle at an insignificant creek. A handful of monks nursed me at a little monastery. I never told anyone, and neither have they, for which I was grateful, but I should have told you. It was wrong for me to accept your hand in marriage knowing I couldn’t be a real husband.” His beard wriggled as his lips folded, his mouth quivering. “It’s just that I fell so deeply in love with you, Genny. And I was going to tell you. Even if it meant you’d leave me. I lied, but at least I didn’t tether you to me forever. The bishop will grant an annulment since the marriage was never consummated.”

“You do love me,” Genny said as tears fell.

“With all my heart, dear girl. That’s why I want you to have your freedom.”

“I don’t want freedom.”

“You don’t? What do you want?”

“I want a goddamn double bed!” She grabbed hold of that bristly face and kissed him hard. His arms closed around her again.





Chapter Twenty-Nine

Winter’s Daughter





“I suppose you two were involved,” were the first words out of Evelyn’s mouth as she poured her obligatory morning tea.

“Indirectly,” Hadrian replied.

The lids came off the food. That morning’s thank-you to Novron had been a mere communal bowing of heads. As usual, the breakfast table was impeccable and laden with a feast fit for kings, emperors, and at least one pair of very quiet thieves.

Evelyn didn’t look at either of them, focusing instead on the amber stream spilling into her porcelain cup.

“The Seret will be coming soon. Such a thing happening in their own backyard must be addressed. They’re not known for being prudent. It’s likely they’ll seek justice, and it won’t matter who they choose to hold responsible.” She looked up. “A pair of no-account foreigners would be tops on their list. I think it best if the two of you returned from whence you came.”

“You’re kicking us out?” Hadrian asked.

“Yes,” she said simply and with an ever-so-curt nod. “I am.” Evelyn set her spoon down sharply and frowned. “Truth is, I’ve already rented your room to someone else. So, please pack your things and be out by midday, thank you.”

Hadrian stared at her and smiled. “You’re concerned about us, aren’t you?”

Evelyn glared back. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re abominable people, and I’ll not have you spoiling my house with your unsavory ways any longer. There, you wanted the truth, you have it. Stop smiling. I’m not doing this for you. I’m not. Stop it.”