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Having had enough of the man for one day, I kept his gaze as I spoke to his wife. “Is he always such an overbearing ass of a tyrant with you, my lady, dictating what you may and may not do? Or is this caveman, chest-thumping act purely for my benefit?”
“You’re a fucking schmuck,” Soren sneered.
“Oh?” I said, lifting an eyebrow. “Why don’t we wait until I micromanage every move my wife makes and then threaten to rape your sister before we compare who’s the bigger schmuck, shall we?”
Soren stepped toward me, but Vienne said, “No.” She sighed and rubbed at a spot on her temple, revealing she had a headache. “That’s enough arguing this evening, if you please, gentlemen.”
I bowed to her wishes, instantly contrite. “Of course, my lady. My apologies.”
She sent me a tired, defeated glance before turning to Soren. “Escort me and Anniston to our room, would you?”
He shifted his scowl from me to nod agreeably at Vienne. Then he crooked an elbow, which she took, wrapping the very same fingers she’d used to shake with me to grip his arm. And away they went, married and bound together in ways I would never be to her.
The triumph I’d felt over spending time with her, meeting her gaze across the chess table, and touching her hand came crashing down with the bitter taste of reality. She wasn’t mine. She would never be mine. Why was I torturing myself this way?
But then…then she glanced over her shoulder at me as she and Soren reached the doorway, and my heart thudded hard in my chest when she gifted me with an apologetic smile.
Suddenly, I understood why. Table scraps were better than starving. That’s why I stayed.
Chapter 25
Urban
I might have stretched the truth a bit when I’d told Vienne my back wounds were fine. The fact was they irritated the hell out of me. The skin that had knitted back together stretched and burned every time I overextended my arms, like lifting them to remove my tunic.
Wincing, I discarded the shirt and spent another minute rotating my shoulders to get the scar tissue used to movement.
The first day I’d returned to the back bailey for training, I’d torn one cut open and it had started bleeding like a son of a bitch, so I’d mostly been yelling instructions since then. But I was getting tired of that. I needed action, combat, especially after I’d just watched my one true love depart to her room for the evening with her husband.
Convincing myself they were only tucking Anniston into her crib together before Soren went off to his own room far, far away from Vienne’s, I collapsed onto my back on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, feeling empty, only to wince when the mattress’s contact with my scars started to smart.
What had started as a restless evening had turned into revitalization in so many ways, only to switch to defeat by the end of the night.
Was this honestly how I was going to spend the rest of my life, aching for innocent games of chess in the evenings and yelling the same instructions over and over again to a group of sweaty soldiers during the day?
I wanted more than that. Yet I couldn’t break this hold I felt to stay close to her.
I’d already forgotten about my original goals to protect Allera. She’d settled in quite nicely with Brentley; she could take care of herself. And of course, I knew Vienne could see to herself as well; she was more competent than many gave her credit for. But I still wanted to remain close, witness her life, share her joys, grieve in her sorrows; I ached to be a part of all of that. With her.
So any ideas I might’ve had to leave this place and start fresh somewhere else drifted away as sleep claimed me.
I didn’t dream about the sand-heaped mounts of Donnelly or its darling little oasis in Mandalay, though. I transported myself to High Cliff, at the edge of the sea. Sitting on a lush green carpet of grass with my elbows resting on my bent knees, I watched the water froth and foam with a fascination that enthralled me. It was so savage and wild, yet majestic and poetically peaceful.
When I felt her presence nearing me from behind, a ripple of pleasure raced across my flesh. She sat beside me, close enough for our elbows to brush, her skin warm and dry. Inviting.
“Where is this?” she asked, wiping her windblown, blonde hair out of her eyes as she gazed at the sea as well.
I glanced at her, smiling softly as I watched the appreciation in her gaze. “It’s my childhood,” I said. “The Bjorn Cliffs.”
She looked up at me before returning her attention to the water. “So, that’s the Great Sea? I’ve never seen it before. It’s quite angry, isn’t it?”
I laughed and shook my head, amused by the description. “Angry?”
With a shrug, she grinned up at me. “Well, what would you call it?”
Biting my lip, I looked upon the sea as well. “Powerful,” I finally decided, flicking out a finger to point. “That there is just a little show of intimidation, flexing its muscles so you know who the alpha is.”
“Arrogant, then?”
