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Chapter Thirteen
Fighting against thepain, Henry dragged himself up to sit on the narrow bed. Crispin’s shouts reverberated off the walls. Icy tendrils of fear seized his heart at the sound of Ruby’s distant scream. Crispin pounded his fists against the door, cursing and shouting until he grew hoarse.
Henry could offer no comfort. In truth, he was drained. There was no physical strength left in him. No matter how much his mind and soul raged against the injustice of their imprisonment and their treatment within Francis’s small fortress.
As Crispin raged, Henry watched in stunned silence. He braced himself for the inevitable moment looming on the horizon where his friend would turn and unleash his ire upon him. Blame him for allowing them to be captured, for not protecting Ruby. For leading him into a trap. For allowing himself to be seduced by a traitor and manipulated by his own blood kin. Crispin had every right to punish him for his failures. He would take responsibility for his actions and bear the consequences.
Henry leaned back against the wall, prepared to take the full force of Crispin’s fury. His good eye focused on his friend and king. Crispin stilled, his fists and head pressed against the door.
The helplessness hovering out of reach for the past few days finally settled upon Henry’s weary shoulders. Seeing Crispin’s response to Francis’s confession and hearing the horrors Ruby endured at the hands of such a heartless villain left him despondent. He licked his lips and groaned when he shifted his weight unsettled by the sudden shift in Crispin’s demeanor. Henry could no longer bear the tension.
“My most profound apologies, sire. I have not only failed you but the queen.” Tears filled his eyes. “I could not protect her.” A sob lodged in his throat. He mumbled beneath his breath, apologizing repeatedly until his words became a litany begging for forgiveness.
Crispin remained against the door, his face hidden away. The silence descended like a shroud smothering what remained of Henry’s composure. His shoulders trembled as the tears fell. All restraint turned to ash when Henry allowed the emotions to overwhelm him.
“Forgive me,” he muttered. “I beg you.” His voice echoed in the cell, casting an almost reverent air upon the room like a priest raising his hands to the heavens begging for salvation from his sinful ways.
Henry hung his head. Even Crispin had forsaken him. His failures earned him the scorn of the one man he loved and honored more than his brothers. He would bear the sins upon himself into the next life. There was no salvation for a man such as him. A disappointment to all those who entrusted their safety to his care.
A soft touch on his shoulder made Henry flinch. He lifted his gaze to find Crispin staring down at him. No scorn lay in his eyes. No admonishment. No revulsion. Henry swallowed hard and quelled his tears.
“There is nothing we can do for the past.” Crispin’s voice cracked, strained from shouting through the door demanding Ruby’s release. “I know where your loyalty lies. You fought valiantly. There is no shame in acknowledging defeat.”
Henry blinked at Crispin in disbelief. Could this possibly be the same man with whom he spent over half his life in service to? Never before had Crispin shown such a side of himself. For years, Crispin bore the titles of self-indulgent and unrepentant with pride. But hearing him embrace the mistakes of his past and learn from them seemed quite out of place.
“Are you injured, sire? Your head, I mean?” Henry stiffened when Crispin sat on the bed beside him.
“My head feels as though a pike has been run through it, but I am in full possession of my faculties.” Crispin let his gaze wander the cell. There was nothing in the room save them. Not even a pot to piss in. He returned his gaze to Henry. “What happened the night they took you?”
Relaxing against the wall once more, Henry recounted his tale to the best of his ability. Some of the details were clouded and weak, but he faithfully relayed as much as he could remember. Crispin sat in silence with his lips pursed. His blue eyes darkened like a storm-filled summer sky. When he finished telling him of their orders for him to retrieve the message in the hidden meadow, his voice trailed off. Crispin knew the rest.
“When did you uncover Ivy’s duplicity?” Crispin rounded on him, the question throwing him off balance.
“The day after I brought Francis to the castle.” Henry dropped his gaze, filling with shame once more. “I found her leaving your presence chamber. Later, I uncovered an item she stole from your possession. A piece of parchment written in French bearing the royal seal.”
Crispin growled, but he maintained his composure. “Why did you not come to me when you discovered her?”
“I care for her.” His chest tightened at the confession. “I knew if I brought her to you with this accusation, you would try her for treason or worse, execute her without a second thought.” Henry shook his head. “I could not bear to see her die.”
“Why did you release her?” Crispin’s deceptively calm response terrified Henry.
“I did not release her.” Henry clenched his fists in the thin blanket beneath him. “I locked her in the north tower. I questioned her nightly. I begged her to reveal the details of who sent her. Offered clemency in exchange for a name, anything. Something in exchange for her safety.”
“And did she concede?”
“She refused, claiming she was a member of the Guild and could not break their code or her contract with her master.” Henry’s memory drifted to those nights tucked in the north tower when he attempted to convince her of his sincerity, of his commitment to saving her. Her betrayal stung. Not once, but twice he found himself at the mercy of her scheming treachery. Even so, whatever tendre he held for her could not be denied, no matter how he wished to relinquish it.
’Twas obvious she felt nothing for him. Her dual betrayal spoke more clearly than words ever could. With such a lovely face and tempting figure, she proved too enticing for him to ignore. How he wished he could forget the delightful release she brought him, the lusty moments spent entwined in a passionate embrace. The woman was poison sent to destroy Meradin by bringing ruin to Henry and Crispin, plunging the kingdom into chaos.
“You were able to persuade her to reveal so much.” Crispin studied him for a long moment. “But you chose to release her instead of bringing her before me to receive the justice she deserved?”
“I never released her, sire,” Henry confessed honestly. “While ’tis true I kept her hidden and concealed her treasonous actions from you, I was not the one who released her.” He did not wish to cast a blight on Ruby’s name, but Crispin would uncover the truth, he always did. Exhaustion pulled the truth from his lips as though it would purge the sin from his soul.
“If you were the only one privy to her location and her suspicious behavior, then pray tell, who released her if not you?” Crispin’s patience grew thin. He leaned closer. “Tell me, Henry.”
