Gwyn couldn’t hide her sigh, or her reflexive, bitter wince. “Yes, Roy,” she said wearily. “You and me, and every other woman who happens to wander across your path. I’ve put up with your explanations and justifications and empty promises for far too many years, and I’m sick of it. I’mfinishedwith it, Roy. For good.”
Roy’s head tilted further, and his gloved hand dropped to fiddle with the shining rapier hanging at his side. “Oh, come now, Gwyn,” he said, with a rather forced-feeling cheerfulness. “You know that’s all only harmless fun, right? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s what everyone does. I just don’t hide it from you like most fellows do, that’s all.”
Gwyn felt her shoulders squaring, her chin lifting. “So if I were to do the same,” she said, voice clipped, “and go off and have a littleharmless funof my own, you’d be perfectly fine with that?”
She already knew his answer, because they’d already had this entire infuriating argument multiple times before — and even as Roy opened his mouth, Gwyn snapped her hand up between them, and gave a furious shake of her head. “Or,” she continued loudly, “you’d be perfectly fine with me having my own life here in Varrahan, just as you do back home in Dunburg? You’ll leave me in peace here, to do as I wish?”
Something flared in Roy’s eyes, and he shot a quick, meaningful glance toward the south. “Look, Gwyn,” he said, “Your father and I, we give you a hell of a lot of leeway, all right? You can have your little plant obsession, your playing at being a commoner, your running off at all hours to birth random strangers’children. But parking yourself here, in the shadow of Orc Mountain, where you could be attacked by those vicious brutes at any moment? It’s on the outside of enough. It’s putting your entire damnedlifeat risk.”
The concern was there again on his face, thinning his mouth, flashing like that in his eyes. Hinting that he did really care, that he was truly worried about her — and that had always been the worst part, hadn’t it? Knowing that to Roy, Gwyndidmatter. She’d always been special, his betrothed, hisfavourite. He was one of the most popular, most handsome, most desired men in the realm, and he was here, forher…
Or was he? And Gwyn felt her gaze sharpening on his face, and then flicking down to that rapier at his side. As if he were here in some official capacity, and — Gwyn’s eyes narrowed — yes, that was her father’s muddyregaliaon his back, which had to mean —
“Wait,” she snapped at him, as she rushed toward the nearest window. “Surely you aren’t here withsoldiers,Roy?!”
But yes, good gods, there was an entire group of armed fighting-men, milling about outside Gwyn’s house. Stretching their legs, talking to one another, and brushing down their stamping horses. And there had to be at least a dozen of them, and some of them were even looking toward the house with obvious impatience. Clearly waiting for their captain to finish his morning tryst, so they could get back to doing their damnedjobs.
“You areunbelievable, Roy,” Gwyn breathed, rounding on him again, her hands in stiff fists at her sides. “You were going to leave all those men waiting for you out there, while you pretended as though you’d come here alone, and then spent the rest of the morning in mybed?”
Roy grimaced, his uneasy gaze darting toward the window. “Oh, calm down, love,” he said, in that soothing, patronizing tone Gwyn knew all too well. “We needed to rest the horses for a while anyway, all right? They’re happy to have a break.”
The rage was bright and bristling, flaring behind Gwyn’s eyes, pulsing against her ribs. “And you think I want a band of soldiers camped outside my house for half a day?” she shouted at him, her voice shrill. “I’m trying to get away from you, Roy! I’m trying to start a new life! What the hell do you expect all these townspeople will think, when they see Lord Anton’s household guards parked on my damneddoorstep?!”
Roy’s jaw flexed in his cheek, but he was smiling again, chilly and brittle. “Maybe they’ll think you’re a lord’s daughter, Gwynevere,” he said. “Maybe they’ll realize you’re not, in fact, a commoner, or a midwife, or a barmy plant lady, or whatever the hell you’re pretending to be this week!”
The bastard. Gwyn’s breaths were coming in harsh little pants, her head pounding in her skull. “Iama midwife, you prick,” she hissed. “And I am a barmy plant lady, too. And my father promised me at least a month of freedom here, so you can get the hell out, and get these soldiers off my damnedlawn!”
But she knew it was a waste of breath, even before she’d finished speaking — her father had always been far too willing to revoke his promises, whenever it better suited him — and Roy rolled his eyes, and huffed a heavy sigh. “For gods’ sakes, Gwyn,” he replied testily. “Do you hear me telling you to pack up, and come home with me this minute? No. I’m just stopping by to make sure you’re stillalive, while you live out your ridiculous little commoner fantasy under the shadow of bloodyOrc Mountain!”
“And you think my little commonerfantasy,” Gwyn snarled back, “will last the rest of this morning, with a dozen armed men stationed outside my house? Withyouhere?!”
Her hand flapped furiously toward Roy’s tall, handsome form, which despite the mud, still radiated wealth, standing, command. And even if the soldiers’ presence alone didn’t give it away, it would only take one meal at a tavern before everyone in town knew that Roy was Lord Anton’s much-loved ward, mysteriously appeared from Dunburg to court the mysterious new midwife.
“Look, I’m riding back out today, Gwyn, if that’s such a concern,” Roy replied, voice sharp. “And none of my men even know why we came here, because Iunderstood” — his hand snapped to Gwyn’s chin, giving it a proprietary little shake — “that you wanted to keep this secret. Iunderstoodwhat you wanted, and I wanted to make you happy. All right?”
And curse her, but Gwyn felt her shoulders sagging, her throat swallowing. And of course Roy saw that, and he eased a step closer, his gloved fingers gently drumming on her cheek. “I didn’t even tell them who you are,” he added, his voice dropping. “As far as they know, you’re just another side-piece of mine, all right?”
And gods, Gwyn might have forgiven it. Might have accepted his words as truth, or even leaned into his familiar touch — if not for that damned betraying line, escaping so easy from his mouth. Another side-piece of mine.Another.
Gwyn’s suddenly narrowed eyes darted up and down Roy’s muddy body, not thinking, not even knowing what she was searching for — or did she. Because there, on his stubbled neck, there was a distinctive, fresh red splotch… and what might have even been a set ofteeth-marks.
Gwyn whipped away from him so fast she felt faint, and she furiously shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “You’re notunderstanding, Roy,” she breathed. “I keep telling you, I’m finished with our betrothal,forever. And if you truly want to make me happy” — she dragged in air, made her prickling eyes meet his — “you’ll respect that, and move on with one of your many convenient side-pieces, and leave me alone here inpeace!”
But something new, something unfamiliar, had flashed in Roy’s eyes. Something that curled on his lip, and contorted his handsome face. “No, Gwynevere,” he said, voice hard. “You don’t get to pretend your way out of this. You’re a lord’s daughter. You’re mybetrothed. You need to grow the hell up, and do what’s expected of you, and stop behaving like a spoiled, immature, petty littlebrat!”
And with those words still ringing through the air, he strode for the door, and yanked it open — and then spun back around, fixing Gwyn with the force of his furious eyes.
“You have twenty-two days left, Gwynevere,” he hissed. “And then you’re coming home with me, as per your father’s orders. And if youdaretry this bullshit with me again then, you will fuckingregretit.”
Gwyn’s throat badly convulsed, her blinking eyes fixed to his enraged, distorted face. “Will I?” she replied, her voice curiously hollow. “Whatever will you do, Roy? Judge me and mock my interests? Ignore my wishes? Or perhaps you’ll put off our marriage indefinitely, while you take your pleasure with every other woman in sight? However shall I acclimatize myself?”
But Roy’s answering bark of a laugh was again like nothing she’d ever heard before, curdling beneath her skin. “No, Gwyn,” he purred, cold, vicious, deadly. “I will drag you out of this shithole house, and then I will burn it all to theground.”
8
After Roy left, Gwyn couldn’t stop shaking.
She wandered aimlessly around the house for far too long, stumbling over nothing, her trembly fingers stroking at her plants’ beloved leaves and spines. Her passion. Her livelihood. Hercalling. All held here in this one isolated, unguarded little house, and suddenly feeling impossibly precarious. Vulnerable.Flammable.
