Traitor, page 24
“You must understand, princess, no human love could be strong enough or pure enough to save you from such an onslaught of evil magic. Only the Luminate has that kind of power.”
The pendant fell back to my chest. A mix of incredulity and awe warred within. “The Luminate’s love saved me?” Doubts swarmed my mind at the very thought. “Why would He bother when it was my fault the stele was opened? When I’ve . . .”
I couldn’t finish the statement. I’d done so much to repel His good opinion, to reject His influence.
Surely He’d given up on me ages ago.
Her probing gaze gave me the uncanny feeling my deepest secrets were being laid bare. “Was it your fault? Was that the outcome you intended?”
“That wasn’t my intention, no. But—”
“Even if it was, the Luminate’s kindness and forgiveness are far beyond anything we mortals can fathom.” Sister Rochelle brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Nothing you’ve done or could do would ever cause Him to forsake you. His love will remain constant, regardless of the number or degree of your faults or mistakes.”
I leaned my head back, my throat raw and sore from the short conversation. The Luminate loved me, had forgiven me. Saved my life.
Thank you?
The prayer felt so pathetic, so inadequate. I’d accused Him of abandoning me, had stopped seeking His guidance long ago. But the softest radiance broke through the blackness clouding my mind, bringing warmth and hope.
Yes, even when I’d ignored or rejected it, that presence had never wavered. Never would waver.
Peace washed over me, unlike anything I’d experienced since meeting Nicholas. Since losing Mama. I breathed more deeply, letting my eyelids drift closed.
Thank you. I’ll try not to turn away again.
The sound of poured water brought my awareness back to my surroundings. Sister Rochelle was transferring water from a kettle to a washbasin, humming to herself.
She set the kettle aside and glanced to me. “Now, my dear, you were asking about Prince Vander. I thought perhaps you might like to get freshened up before your fiancé visits?”
Her bright smile held a knowing quirk.
“Yes, please.”
It’d be challenging to face him no matter what, but it couldn’t hurt to smell less smoky and look less disheveled.
My incompatible longing and dread surrounding Vander’s return pulled me in opposite directions like a torture device.
Would he be disappointed? Angry? Sad? Likely all three. But Sister Rochelle said he’d hardly left my bedside. Even if the Luminate was responsible for saving me through the amulet, was it possible Vander might—?
“Here we are.” Sister Rochelle’s cheerful proclamation interrupted my jumbled thoughts.
She helped me slide to the edge of the bed, then dipped a cloth into water and pressed it to my face. How odd to be cared for so tenderly by a woman I’d only ever pushed away. Yet she acted as though we’d been the closest of friends all along. As though she truly had come to Delunia for me, not to scrutinize and judge but to guide and safeguard.
But even Sister Rochelle’s soothing ministrations couldn’t keep my patience at bay for long. “Did Vander say when he might come back?”
She paused, rolling up a sleeve of my nightdress. “I hope he’s allowing himself a nice long rest. I’m certain he needs it.” Her free hand squeezed my shoulder. “But don’t worry. He won’t be able to stay away for long.”
“Did he say anything while he was here? About me?”
My face flared warmer than the water in the basin. I sounded more juvenile than Sophia.
“He said very little. He’s been quite distraught.”
“Of course.” I almost wished another coughing fit would consume me.
“But you have nothing to fear, princess. Your journey together will not end here.”
I jerked, nearly dislodging the washcloth from her grip. “How do you know? Have you seen something?”
She smiled and resumed scrubbing my arm. “Our visions are sometimes specific, but often merely a glimpse, or even a sense or feeling. Some are meant to be shared in full, others are meant to be kept within our hearts.”
My posture deflated. She wasn’t going to tell me. Yet, vague as they were, I found her references to her time spent in communion with the Luminate oddly comforting.
“The project that brought you to Delunia—was it successful? Do you plan to go back?”
“We made a promising start, yes. But now that I’m at the palace, I’d like to see what good I can do here before I venture out again.”
I grasped her wrist, leaving a wet mark on her black sleeve. “Would you stay and advise me? For a time, at least? There’s so much I don’t understand about the Luminate, and I’d appreciate your counsel.”
She squeezed excess water from the cloth, and my stomach gave a corresponding twist.
I couldn’t meet her eyes. “I apologize that I haven’t always appreciated it in the past.”
“Some guidance takes time to appreciate.” She hung the cloth on the edge of the basin. “I should very much like to aid you in your goal of growing closer to the Luminate in any way I can.”
“Thank you.” My fingers locked together in my lap. “That is, of course, if I end up staying in Delunia.”
Her exhale carried the faintest hint of a laugh. “Although he said little, the prince’s vigil spoke volumes. He even asked me to pray with him.” She brushed my hair back from my face, resting her palms on my cheeks. “Vander cares for you very much, princess.”
Could he? After I’d betrayed the secret he’d so reluctantly shared with me?
Surges of heat and cold passed through me as Sister Rochelle settled me back into the bed.
How could I now dare to hope for—long for, even—Vander’s love when I’d been pushing him away ever since I’d stepped foot in Delunia?
Chapter 28
Despite Sister Rochelle’s strict instructions to sleep while she sought additional herbs, my rest was interrupted by every creak, every imagined footstep. When would Vander return? Would he return when he heard I’d awoken? Or would he avoid me, feeling his duty fulfilled?
The chance to scrub off some of the grime had been wonderfully refreshing, but nothing could fully soothe my anxious heart, the restlessness of my conscience.
A knock sounded at the door. Strong yet hesitant.
I sat up, attempting to straighten the robe covering my nightdress and spreading the blankets about my legs.
“Come in.” I couldn’t keep the quiver out of my voice.
The door inched open, first allowing Vander’s face to peek in, then widening to accommodate his stocky frame. “You are awake! I hardly dared hope the sister could be correct. My great apologies I wasn’t here upon your waking.”
He hurried to my bedside and dropped to his knees.
Hope soared through my ribcage at his relieved, earnest expression. Surely if he’d lost all regard for me—if he was determined never to forgive me—he’d show more indifference about my return to health.
I fiddled with the sheets. “Yes. I’m still quite tired. A great deal of smoke or something like it seems to have taken up residence in my lungs. But I believe I will be well.”
“I cannot express how happy it makes me to hear this.” He lifted his hands as though wanting to take mine, then let them fall back. “When your Sir Colin opened the stele and such evil magic struck you, it made me fear . . .”
His voice turned husky as it trailed off. He looked down, a vein throbbing in his neck.
My coarse laugh sounded aged and gravely. “He’s not my Sir Colin. Lying and underhanded, nothing like the gentleman I thought he was.” I never could’ve dreamed my scholarly friend would have so much in common with Nicholas. “But how did you know to find me there?”
He rose to sit in the chair nearest my bedside, his lips pressed into a firm line. “After we confirmed the stele was missing, I suspected Sir Colin and feared for you. We could not locate you, even when Egan took us to Sir Colin’s home. Leipon was the only additional place of which I could think.”
He massaged his forehead. “But our arrival came too late to stop this monster. We could not prevent you from making your sacrifice—the most we could do was return your body to the palace.”
His shoulders shook, whether from sorrow or anger or both, I couldn’t tell. With a fortifying breath, I clasped one of his hands.
“I am so very, very sorry. For causing you such distress. For betraying your trust. Please believe I was not aware of Sir Colin’s true intentions. If only I’d heeded your warnings.” I swallowed a rising cough. “But he promised to destroy the stele and eradicate the dark magic. I was trying to help. He seemed to care so much for the people of Leipon, I never thought . . . I—I’m so sorry.”
I made myself stop before tears could escape.
Vander stared at our intertwined fingers, his eyes unreadable. “I was most disappointed in your choice. I believed after I confided in you, we would . . .” He traced a thumb across my knuckles. “My parents were more angry still.”
I winced but remained silent. I deserved every bit of their anger and disappointment.
He shook his head. “However, your reasons were not all bad, this I can see. Sir Colin’s plan for the spread and use of dark magic was the worst possible outcome. But to hide it away, to hope it will never be found, never cause harm—this too is a problem. It was our responsibility to rid Delunia of such magic, and we failed.”
“But I should’ve been honest with you and worked with you to find a solution.” My chest compressed as though I’d been overrun by a carriage. “I feared you’d never forgive me for trusting Sir Colin instead of you. That perhaps it was better if the dark magic consumed me.” I swiped my free hand beneath my eyes. “I can never seem to—”
His grasp around my fingers tightened. “No.” He lowered his head until I met his gaze. “Even in poor judgment or betrayal, for you to perish could never be a good outcome. And your sacrifice made clear your intentions were noble. We have known each other only a short time. I hope perhaps in future we can have more trust, more communication between us.”
“Then you . . . you still want to marry me?” A poorly timed cough ripped through my chest, forcing me to turn away.
“Of course.” Vander rubbed my back in a slow circle until my coughs subsided.
Delicious tingles danced up my spine.
“That is, I—” Drawing back and relinquishing his touch, he set his jaw. “I have made a commitment to my country and yours, and I intend it to be fulfilled.”
I leaned against my pillow, releasing my ragged breath slowly to forestall a sigh.
No one could blame the poor man for being scared to touch me, scared to betray any affection after all my coldness and rebuffs. After I’d used his attraction against him in the worst possible way.
How could I convince him I’d now welcome such overtures? Not to manipulate him, but because . . . My mind wasn’t quite ready to put the sentiment into words.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Reaching beneath my hair, I unclasped the amulet from my neck. “Did Sister Rochelle tell you how I survived the dark magic?”
He tipped his chair on its back legs, his brow furrowing. “She said something of her Luminate. Of special protection?”
I nodded and extended the amulet to him. “Yes. Do you remember this?”
He accepted it, squinting at the pendant. “This is the necklace from the Sister—Sister Rochelle, who has cared for you?”
“She’s the same Sister who gave it to me, yes. She told me it has a special blessing from her and the other mystics she used to live with. The inscription says ‘Love surrounds you. My love will protect you.’”
My heartbeat thudded in my ears. Could I really say it? I tucked my hands beneath the sheets, curling my knees to my chest.
“When I first awoke, I thought perhaps you had saved me. Your . . . love.”
His eyes locked on mine, wide and uncertain. “I understand your wishes for our engagement and marriage, and I seek to respect—”
“I know.”
Lightheadedness clouded my thoughts. I should’ve waited until I was better recovered to have this conversation. Perhaps never broached the subject at all.
“Sister Rochelle explained it was the Luminate who saved me through the amulet, and I’m so grateful. But my despair at the prospect of losing your respect and friendship followed by the hope that, in spite of everything, you might love me enough to trigger the blessing—it made me realize I’ve been wrong.”
His mouth opened and closed in silent question. “I fear these few days have been a blur. So much worry, very little sleep. I don’t believe I understand.”
Heat scorched my cheeks. What a mess I’d created between us. But this was finally a mess I might be able to fix.
Laying my blankets aside, I pivoted until my legs dangled off the side of the bed.
“What I’m trying to say is that I’ve valued your friendship for some time, but lately . . . every time we’ve . . .” No attempt at serenity could keep me from gnawing at my lip. “I no longer think I would be satisfied with a marriage that is simply an alliance. Though I’ve been denying it—to myself most of all—I do care for you.”
My heart hardly dared to beat in the silence. I couldn’t meet his gaze.
“That is . . . but only if you think you could eventually trust or care for me. If not, I understand entirely—” My words came faster and faster, a dam threatening to burst.
“Penelope.”
The whisper cut through the jumble of thoughts raging through my mind, directing my attention to him alone.
“Your error in passing information of the stele on to Sir Colin, it was grave. This I cannot deny. But if my admiration for you can be undone by one mistake, what kind of true feeling would this be? How could I be a man you can place your reliance on? I make many mistakes and shall make many more.”
He grasped his knees, shifting his weight on the chair.
“I do care for you, and such feelings are much deeper than an unreasonable expectation of perfect conduct. You think so much about a people so new to you. You try so hard to adjust and show respect for my culture, when I know this is a challenge. Your treatment of me is gentle and kind, not full of scorn.”
The huskiness in his voice constricted my stomach in an oddly pleasant sensation.
“Your beauty and grace affected me the moment we met. But since then I have seen you are passionate and vulnerable and spirited, and this makes you all the more lovely.”
I slowly raised my head to meet his earnest gaze. Grasping his shoulder with one hand, I raised the other to touch his face.
“You are the sweetest, most generous man I could’ve asked for as a future husband. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to see it.”
My thumb brushed the dark stubble shadowing his cheek.
A tremor ran through Vander’s frame as his eyes focused on my mouth. I crept closer to the edge of the bed until mere inches separated us.
Then, without knowing whether one or both of us closed the distance, our lips met with the gentlest touch. The first rays of sunlight gracing early morning dew. But soon we drew nearer still, fervor etching cracks into our hesitance.
Kiss after kiss, learning the curve of each other’s lips as we made up for months spent at arms’ length.
When we finally parted, I leaned my forehead against his, struggling to slow my racing pulse. “I have a feeling we’ll give our guests a much better show at the next ball.”
His chuckle warmed my neck. “Indeed. Though it is best if we continue to practice, just in case.”
Chapter 29
“M’lady!” Victoria rushed to my bedside in a swirl of chestnut hair and emerald fabric. She reached me and bowed her head, sniffling.
I pressed her hand, my chest rising as though another missing piece were clicked into place. “It’s so good to see you, Victoria. I’m relieved you’re well.”
“Me?” Her eyes snapped up to meet mine. “Ye’re the one who . . . and I . . .” A sob escaped her lips.
I edged closer to her. “I’m sorry I’ve given you such a scare. But I’m recovering, and all will be well now.”
“But when I think of how I’ve been treatin’ ye . . .” She took a long, gasping breath. “I’ve been so horrible the past few weeks, glarin’ and angry, hardly speakin’ a word. When I heard what happened and that ye wouldn’t wake up, and they wouldn’t let me see ye—”
She wiped the back of her hand beneath her nose. “I was so afraid that was how it’d end between us. That I’d never get to say goodbye, never apologize for actin’ like such a childish, petty . . .” A new stream of tears assaulted her cheeks.
“Oh, Victoria. Please, sit down.” I patted the bed beside me.
She blinked and took a step back. “Ye’re very kind, m’lady, but I’m all right.” She rubbed her fingers beneath her eyes and stood a little straighter. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m actin’ too familiar, not respectin’ my rank.”
“Too familiar? You help me get dressed every day.”
A smile twitched her lips, but she kept her distance.
“I’m requesting not as your princess, but as your friend.” I tried to make my expression entreating.
She hesitated, then perched on the edge of the mattress. I pulled her into a hug. She melted into my arms, crying harder than before. I held her tight as my own eyes dampened.
I’d missed her even more than I’d realized.
After her tears subsided, she sat back, sniffling. “I don’t deserve such kindness, m’lady.”
A sentiment I understood all too well. “I’ve received many kindnesses I haven’t deserved. It’s refreshing to be the provider instead of the recipient.” I blew out a breath and readjusted my bedcovers. “Besides, you had a right to be angry with me.”
“Ye said yerself, ye were just tryin’ to protect me.”
For once, my sigh didn’t turn into a cough. “That may be true, but I sought your protection for all the wrong reasons. I didn’t want to see you get hurt, but it wasn’t fair to burden you with my own fears and presumptions. I’m sorry.”
