And then, swirling stronger still, were all the truths that had gone unsaid. Why Natt hadn’t told her about Alfred’s coming, why he hadn’t even wanted her tospeakabout Alfred. Why he hadn’t said he loved her. Why he hadn’t asked her to be his mate.
Why he hadn’t asked her to stay.
But this was Natt’s first Revel, this was his moment, so Ella waited, and smiled, and greeted the orcs, and waited. While she could feel the weariness creeping into Natt’s form, the slowly rising tension — but instead of touching him, or seeking to set him at ease, or make him smile, she only sat there, pretending, waiting, lying.
And when the final orc finally walked away, and the party all around had risen into an almost-deafening hubbub of carousing orcs, Ella made herself turn, and smile up into Natt’s tired eyes.
“Could I have one more question?” she asked, her breath only slightly hitching. “Please?”
Natt’s eyes had gone suddenly wary, but he gave a slow, careful nod. And Ella nodded too, and this time climbed up into his lap, straddling him, stroking her shaky hands against the soft fur covering his arms. Looking into his beautiful eyes, into the orc she loved, her oldest, best, dearest friend. As she dragged for courage, bravery, she had to face her truth, before it rose to devour her, unawares…
“I beg you to speak truth, Nattfarr of Clan Grisk,” she said, very quiet. “Of how you have betrayed me.”
29
Even now, Ella hoped she was wrong. Prayed she was wrong, begged all the gods for it, silently desperately pleading, while she held Natt’s staring, blinking eyes.
But he wasn’t denying it. He wasn’t denying it, he wasn’t saying anything, and his face, his face looked suddenly ashen, deathlike, wrong.
“Why,” he said finally, his voice a croak, “do you ask this.”
The hurt and the misery swirled up with sickening force, and Ella fought her way through them, fought for air, for words. “You said,” she whispered, “if we hid the truth, it will rise up, and — anddevourus, Natt.”
Her breath was gulping, her eyes searching his face, and all he had to do was say no, I would never harm you, like he had before, that time —
Or had he? I should neverwishto harm you, he’d said. Foolish lass. You know not what you ask for. You know not what I shall want from you. What vengeance we shall take.
Ella’s head was shaking, her hands fluttering up to cover her open mouth, because dear gods, he’d already told her. He’d already said it, again and again. She was foolish. He’d only been in this for vengeance, all along.
It was afarce, Dammarr had said.
The room seemed to be slowly spinning around them, the voices and drums far too loud in Ella’s ringing ears, and her body was badly trembling, her stomach churning. And she should get up, she should run, but where was there to go, why couldn’t she move —
“Lass,” said Natt’s voice, hoarse and deep, and she realized that she was still staring at him, still caught on his lap, still ensnared in his truth-spell. “Listen to this. These days with you have been a great joy. A bright gift to me. You have shown yourself kind and loyal and hungry and sweet and true. You have honoured me again and again. But —“
His chest was heaving, his eyes squeezing shut, but Ella was still held, still lost, waiting. “But this is not enough,” he said, every word a choking, dizzying thud. “I do not” — his chest heaved again — “I do not wish you to stay.”
What? Ella felt herself flinch all over, the partying room juddering sharply, wildly sideways. “You don’t?” she heard her wavering voice ask. “Butwhy, Natt?”
His eyes were still closed, and she could see his jaw clenching, his entire body gone rigid beneath her. “I do not,” he said, “believe that you are the right match for the Speaker of the Grisk. You are a good woman, but you are not the woman who ought to carry on our gift to our sons.”
The disbelief was shouting, suddenly, warring with the hurt and the misery. And somehow Ella was clinging to him, gripping her hands in his furs, fighting and failing to shake his huge, unmoving body.
“Why,” she heard her voice say. “Why aren’t I, Natt. I learned to speak truth to you, I’ve eagerly welcomed you and learned from you, I shared your bed, I gave you mymaidenhead, I’m wearing yourclothes, I let you — I even let youpierceme, I told you I’d give up everything. Ikeptmypledge, Natt!”
Her shrill, rising voice was drowned out by the party all around, but Natt had to have heard, even with his face gone so still, his eyes now intently blinking past her. “I am sorry, lass,” he said, his voice choked. “It is not yet enough. I wish you to leave here, and go back to your home, with your betrothed, come morning.”
He wanted her to go? Tomorrow? With — withAlfred? It was like Ella was falling, sinking into an ever-deepening hole, a curse, a nightmare, and she felt the fear wildly lurching, her head shaking, her hands shaking, everything shaking, why couldn’t she wake up, why —
“You are yet dear to me, lass,” Natt’s hitching voice said. “I shall never forget the joy you have brought me. Mayhap we shall yet be — friends, after this.”
Friends. And it was that one word, suddenly, that set the nightmare stark against the truth, and Ella’s trembly hands grasped for his face, and fought to turn it toward her. “No,” she choked at him. “You’re — you’relyingto me, Natt. Look me in the eye, and say all that again.”
But his face was a mask, his eyes so wrong, he was lying,whywas he lying. “I am weary,” he said, his voice thick. “My Speaking is worn, from all this use. I can do no more tonight.”
Lying, lying, and Ella’s head was frantically shaking, her twitchy hands coming to press over Natt’s mouth. The mouth that had kissed her, tasted her, drunk her, demanded her truth, the rightful Speaker of the Grisk, her oldest dearest friend,lying—
“Stop,” she choked, and dear gods she was weeping now, the wetness streaking down her cheeks. “Stop, Natt. Don’t do this to me. Please.”
