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With love.
As we part, I allow myself to think of Aedre, something I refused to do after Aldwine snatched away my right to see her one last time.
You do not demand marriage from a woman like Aedre.
The last time I drank enough ale to fill the Bay of Sindridge was after Albertus died. Even then, I didn’t wake with a sword clutched to my chest the next morn. Still, I can remember pieces of my discussion with Thomas.
“Well?” As if I conjured him, Thomas appears behind me.
“’Tis done.” There are too many witnesses around for us to discuss the meeting.
“The innkeeper has offered to serve us a meal as the horses are prepared.”
“Go,” I tell him. “Take as many provisions as you’re able. I will be back by the sixth hour.”
Thomas looks at our shadows cast by the sun. “We will be ready.”
He looks as if he wishes to say something else, but he simply clasps my shoulder, nods, and turns back to the entrance of the inn.
I’d not planned to leave the inn before our departure. The need for some space, some quiet, some reflection steals over me. My feet move before I can consider where they take me. Away from the village, certainly. Though I know she is still at Nord Manor, I squint at the buildings as I pass them, looking for her.
You do not demand marriage from a woman like Aedre.
And how does Thomas know anything about women like Aedre? There are none like her in Meria. Mayhap none like her here in Murwood End. Climbing these rocks for the last time, I sit on the one we shared, watching as boats come and go. Watching the waves, so predictable yet unpredictable.
For the first time, instead of pushing away thoughts of Matteo and the others clinging to pieces of wood, I let them come. They must have been terrified in those final moments. Although they’d sailed into battle, the warriors among them prepared for what that might mean, falling in battle is a different matter from drowning. They had no chance. No ability to fight for themselves.
Death never used to scare me before. I’d seen from my parents how quickly life could be taken away—and accepted I’d probably lose mine in service to the king. Nay, death never used to scare me, but life . . . that is a different matter entirely.
I do not like you.
Indeed, she did not. With good reason, given her lineage. I wish the Meria her grandmother told her of no longer existed. Many would welcome her, and those who did not . . . could they not learn, as I have?
If a nobleman—a king’s man, as she so often said with accusation—could fall in love with a woman who rejects the very king he would give his life to serve, could not others do the same?
Aye, they could—easily—but they will never get the chance.
Just as I will never get the chance to feel her pressed against me again. To touch her, to love her . . . to tell her I am sorry.
Looking up at the sun, I know it is time to leave. Scrambling down from the rocks, I glance one last time at the Cliffs of Murh, trying not to remember the cave Aedre brought me to . . . all while knowing I will never forget. Aedre will never forgive me. But just in case I’m wrong, there’s just one more place I need to go before leaving Murwood End for good.
