"Lord Torgan." His voice is both wrecked and level at the same time. “You didn’t need to come here. I’m waiting for Mirelle."
Fuck, this is awful. I steady myself with a breath. "Did she come when you called?"
He averts his eyes. "No."
"Then that’s why I’m here."
His eyes flash. Good. There's something alive in him, then.
"I walked here," he says. “When I received the letter. My father wouldn’t give me a horse or a cart. My brother didn’t help. They said that they never approved of our union. That we were a blasphemy to humankind everywhere. That I deserve this heartbreak. I came here, hoping it wasn’t true, and she won’t even come down to see me.”
He laughs once. There's no humor in it.
"So I'm standing in the road like a madman. I know how it looks. But….But…" He holds up the letter. His hand shakes. Cold, anger, grief. Probably all three. "I've read this forty times. It isn't her."
"Caden—"
"I don't mean I dislike what it says. If she genuinely wanted to break off our engagement, I would respect that." His voicesharpens. "I mean a stranger wrote it. Three sentences. ‘The families won’t approve?’ ‘I return the ring with my thanks?’ That’s not her."
He crushes the page tighter.
"She cried when I gave her the box to announce my pursuit of her. She kept the thing in her belt pouch at all times and always made sure to remind me about it."
I know.
"And now she ends what was between us in just three sentences. With herthanks." He steps closer. "So either I never knew her, or something has been done to her. I've walked eleven miles to find out which."
He deserves the truth.
So I tell him, standing in the road outside my own gate, baring my ugly truths to him.
I tell him about the spell shop. The vial. The outrageous twenty gold piece price tag that I paid without question, because I was afraid of talking myself out of my half-laid plan. And then carrying it for months in my coat pocket. The wedding. The coat rack.
The theft.
And now, this with Mirelle ruining her life.
I tell it in order and leave nothing out. Caden doesn’t move the entire time. He takes my words in silence. The letter slowly disappears inside his fist. It is the only indication that he’s upset.
When I finish, the silence stretches until I can hear the creek behind the east wall.
"You bought it to use on her," he says softly.
"Yes."
"Against me."
"Yes."
He looks at me sharply, anger flashing in his eyes. "Stop saying yes like honesty makes it better."
"It doesn't."
His face twists. "You decided she was too foolish to choose for herself. You didn't know me. Or her. Or trust that she knew what she was doing."
I shake my head.
His free hand closes.
