It left Gwyn still standing behind her table, and blinking at Kalfr, who was still hovering near the front door — and she could see his exhale, his hand rubbing at his mouth. “Silfast likely will not say thank you,” he told her, quiet. “So, thank you.”
Gwyn tried for a shrug, a dismissive wave of her hand — but then something occurred to her, and she felt her eyes studying Kalfr’s face. “It was kind of you, too,” she said. “Without Silfast, maybe —”
Maybe Stella would have turned to you, she was about to say, but instead she grimaced, her eyes angling toward the closed bedroom door. But Kalfr had clearly followed her meaning, and he shook his head, twitched a wry little smile.
“I could not give herthat, the way she wishes,” he said, as the sound of a loud slap — and Stella’s answering squeal — filtered from beyond the door. “But her soft, ripe sweetness —ach. Mayhap I find this some day, in my own mate.”
Right. Gwyn nodded, and attempted a smile of her own. “I’m sure you will, Kalfr,” she said. “And she’ll surely adore you.”
Kalfr’s smile twitched higher, and that was an unmistakable flush, darkening his cheeks. “Thank you, woman,” he said, with a slight duck of his head. “Now, I shall wait close by, with your mate. Only speak if you need us, ach?”
Her mate.Close by.And Gwyn’s heart had skipped a beat, her breath catching, her eyes pinned to Kalfr’s face. To his wry, knowing smile tugging even higher before he turned away and strode out the door, shutting it tight behind him.
And then Gwyn was alone — or mostly alone, barring the rising sounds of gasps and growls coming from her bedroom. And her thoughts were swimming again, her eyes oddly fixed to the closed front door, her breaths dragging in, out, in again.
Joarr was truly… still here? Still waiting? Intending tohelpher? Her…mate?
It still didn’t feel possible, it couldn’t be possible. He’d lied to her, he hadn’t told her, that pledge,You break my sight, kindred witch, stay…
And it was as Gwyn was considering it, perhaps even accepting it, that she heard a sudden clamouring commotion, thundering up the road. Surging toward her house, towardher, rising hoofbeats and voices andchaos.
No. No. Her body froze all over, her heart hammering, her eyes darting around the room — but oh goddess, it was already too late. And that was surely a familiar voice, and then firm footsteps coming closer, and then…
The rap on the door was sharp, sure of itself, enough to make her flinch. But she didn’t move, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t make herself take a single step forward, toward whatever was behind it, herdoom…
And when the door banged open, slammed against the wall, it was like the rest of the world slammed shut. Flattening Gwyn with its devastating strength, crushing the breath from her lungs, driving the hope from her heart.
It was Roy.
35
For a long, curdling moment, Gwyn stared at Roy, while her heartbeat fought to pound out of her ribs.
He was here. He was armed. And he was…angry. His handsome face staring back at her like that, like she’d both repulsed and astonished him, like he wanted to rush across the room and throttle her.
“Where,” he growled, “have youbeen, Gwynevere.”
Gwyn’s stomach lurched, her thoughts scrambling — how did he know she’d been gone? — and her eyes darted down to the table before her. The table where, just as Joarr had promised, there was a small collection of notes, written in script that looked astonishingly like hers. And she could still read the first one she’d written, still innocuously sitting there, from so many days past.
Gone to care for a client, she’d written.May be complications.
She blinked at it for an instant, at its odd, unnerving truth — and then snapped her eyes back to Roy’s furious face. “I was working,” she said, as coolly as she could, with a wave toward the note. “As a midwife. As I told you I was coming here to do. Remember?”
Roy loudly scoffed, and came a swift, angry step closer. “You were gone forweeks,” he hissed. “My men searched for you everywhere. You weren’t anywhere in Varrahan, or Ashford, or any of the smaller villages. People had heard of you, sure, but no one could ever remember actuallyseeingyou!”
Wait. Roy’s men had been here? Searching for her?Spyingon her? After he’dtoldher he was leaving, and giving her the month her father had promised?
Gwyn’s mouth had dropped open, her eyes wide on Roy’s angry face — and yes, yes, clearly he’d done that. He’d kept his men here. He’d told them who she really was. He’d lied to her,again.
“Really, Roy?” she demanded, her arms folding tightly over her chest. “Even after you promised me that day that you wereleaving, and going back to Dunburg? And, that you wouldn’t betray my identity to your men?!”
Roy barked a harsh, bitter laugh, his smile not even touching his furious eyes. “I was worried about you,” he snapped. “I washelpingyou. And if you really thought I was going to leave my betrothed alone here to get kidnapped and knocked up by orcs, you’re even stupider than I thought!”
His voice had risen to a shout, that awful wordstupidscraping up Gwyn’s spine, and she swallowed hard, lifted her chin. “My father promised me a month of freedom here,” she replied, as smoothly as she could. “You hadno rightto secretly spy on me, let alone barging into my house like this, and demanding detailed reports of my whereabouts.Especiallybefore my month is even finished!”
Roy laughed again, even harder this time, and gave a slow, deliberate shake of his head. “I have every right, Gwynevere,” he countered. “You’re mybetrothed. And now that you’ve had your chance to live out your stupid little commoner fantasy, you’re going to grow the hell up, and come home with me, andmarryme. Like you’re damn well supposed to!”
Marry him.Marryhim?! It felt like a slap, like being struck straight across the face, and Gwyn gaped blankly at Roy, at his enraged, glittering eyes. After a fulldecadeof his nonsense — of him constantly putting off their wedding, brushing her away, giving careless laughing excuses — now he wanted to get married?Now?
