“In most ways, he is different. There is much of our mother in him, though he denies it. She lived long enough to show him what kindness was, what it felt like to be held and protected. If you can stand by his side and show him love doesn’t have to hurt, that there can be happiness without pain, you will have a husband who will never stray from your side, milady.”
A quiver of doubt went through her. Could she show love to a man so hurt?
“I promise you, he is worth it.”
“But how, Simon? I don’t know how.”
He sighed. “Nor do I. Draven closed himself off so long ago that even I cannot reach him. I’ve tried so many times, but he won’t have it. I never knew a man could be too strong, but in my brother’s case I would say he is.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Emily pressed her knuckles to her lips as she thought the matter over. Her mind sifted through thoughts until a verse from her favorite chanson leapt forward.
“Of course! Accusain and Laurette.”
Simon scowled. “I don’t understand.”
“‘Twas my mother’s favorite tale. It is of a Saracen warrior and a Norman princess. They were from two entirely different worlds and yet love allowed them to reach out to each other. It healed his wounded heart and allowed him to love her.”
Simon shook his head. “But that is just a story, and this is reality.”
“Perhaps, but I am nothing if not a dreamer and as a dreamer I would be remiss if I didn’t do what Laurette would do in my place.”
Simon cocked a brow. “And that is?”
“Seek out my prince where he lives.” She patted Simon on the arm. “Wish me luck.”
Simon waited until she was gone before he whispered. “I wish you much more than that, Emily. I wish you success.”
Draven stared out into the dark night around him. Rushlights had been lit to illuminate the gate and portcullis, but beyond that he could see nothing. Just an empty blankness.
He’d always found comfort in the dark. Like a mother’s arms, it gave him solace to be the only one about. It reminded him of death and if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that the world had ended. That there was nothing. No pain, no past, no loneliness. No future.
Nothing.
But when he opened his eyes, the reality of it all would come rushing back.
When would it all just end?
“Milord?”
He jumped at the soft voice coming from behind him. Never once in a score-and-five years had anyone ever come upon him without his knowing it.
“Milady,” he said gruffly. “What is it you do here?”
She pulled her cloak tighter about her shoulders. “I came to find you.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Are you being flippant?” he asked.
“Aye.”
What was it about her that she would dare what no other had ever dared before with him? “I’m in no mood for games, milady. You should return inside before you become chilled.”
“Are you going inside?”
He shook his head.
