“Isolde…” He bit into his lip. “You do not have to go to nearly so much effort.”
“I do,” she said. “And I want to.”
“No, you do not,” he said through a clenched jaw as if he was angry at her. “I appreciate what you have done, just as I appreciate that you are trying. But you are wasting your time here.”
“It is not a waste.”
“It is,” he said sharply, and she jumped in surprise. “It is not… I am not worth the effort.”
That comment caught her by surprise and when Isolde looked closer at Cassian, noting his anger, she realized that it was not directed at her. He stood back, he was turned away, and there was a battle raging behind his dark eyes that she had not expected, just as she did not understand the cause.
“I…” He took a deep breath. “I understand why you did as you did. And while I do not condone it, nor do I forgive it, I accept the reason. You did what you thought was right, to a man who you knew deserved it. It is that simple.”
“Cassian…” She sat up and he flinched away. “What… that is not true. You did not deserve what I did to you. I am in the wrong, and I accept that.”
“No…” He shook his head. “I would not punish a knight for slaying a dragon, just as I would not punish you for taking revenge on someone who deserved it.”
“What are you…” She did not know what to say.
He turned half away from her, his head bowed, his voice low as if he spoke to himself. The storm outside raged so that she heard the wind and the rain lashing the manor. But that was nothing compared to the storm that played havoc with Cassian.
“I remember what I did to you,” he said in a whisper, as if each word hurt to repeat. “The night you came to me… how you begged me for help… and how I…” He winced. “How I laughed at you before having you dragged from my home. I forced your action, Isolde. And what you did, I cannot help but think that I deserved it.”
“What? No.” She put the tome down and rose to her feet. Then, she went to Cassian, wanting to put her hands on his shoulders, to bring him in close and hold him. He needed it! But as she moved for him, he backed away… “Cassian, how can you say that?”
“It is true,” he said. “Tell me I am wrong about how I treated you.”
“That is not…” She swallowed. “Perhaps what you did was wrong, but I know you, Cassian. You might not think so, but I do. And because I do, I have to believe that you did what you did for a good reason. A reason that if you had your memories, you would know was right.”
He scoffed. “That is not true, Isolde. If anything, all my memories would do was prove how rotten a person I am.”
Isolde could not believe what she was hearing. Stranger still, she could not believe how much she disagreed with Cassian’s words. Regardless of who he was and what he had done, he did not deserve to be treated as he had been. Nothing made what Isolde did right.
“The man who kicked me out that night, Cassian, that is not you…” She edged toward him, but he took another step away. “The man who I took advantage of is kind and caring. He is… he is loving and giving and?—”
“That is not me,” he hissed and turned on her in fury. “I know you think it is, Isolde. I know that you are desperate to believe it so. But it is not who I am!” He was shaking with anger, his hands clenched into fists by his side. “Every day, new memories return, and every single one— every one!” he snarled. “They all prove the opposite. I am who I am and hoping otherwise, living in a fantasy world where it might change isn’t going to make a difference.” He sneered as he looked at the books strewn around the library. “And all of this, trying to appease me, is a waste.”
“No,” she said as she brought herself up. “I do not believe that. Not for a second.”
He chuckled bitterly. “There is an irony here, you know. If I was that man, then maybe I would find it in my heart to forgive you and move on. Isn’t that who you think I am? The type to do such a thing?”
“You—”
“You chose the wrong man to take advantage of, Isolde,” he said coldly, his eyes empty, his words like a slap across the face. “Next time, choose a kinder man to deceive. It might end better for both of you.”
With that, Cassian turned and stormed from the room.
Isolde remained where she was, staring after him, her body shaking. But not from fear. Not from worry. Rather, it was sadness, utter despair as she watched the man whom she knew forcing himself to be someone he was not.
And try as she might, Isolde could not imagine how she might convince him of the truth. Worse still, she sensed that if she did not manage it soon, then he would be lost completely. As would she.
Twenty-Four
Cassian sat alone in his office, a glass of brandy in one hand, a cigar balanced between his lips. The strange thing was that he didn’t even like the taste of cigars. He simply smoked them because he thought he should.
Is this not who I am? Why fight it any longer?
He had retired to his office for a reason; it was the one place that he could be alone with his thoughts. Moments ago, as he readied for supper, he’d be struck by another memory that had come from nowhere, just as it had broken him resoundingly.
