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“I don’t give a damn what happens to Sangton.” The words hissed out of her mouth, callous. “But he’s not going to give you that same margin—Sangton will enjoy your death.”
Rune shook his head. “He’s not going to get a chance.”
No.
No. No. No.
All of the blood pounding in her head suddenly rushed to her stomach, swirling, storming, sending bile up her throat. Her fingers digging into the stone, she spun from him, the contents of her stomach upending. She doubled over, retching, just avoiding her skirts.
This couldn’t be happening again.
No.
Watching her world being destroyed in a deadly duel—once in her lifetime was enough. Fate couldn’t possibly have just delivered another one to her. It wasn’t fair. Couldn’t be real.
Tears full in her eyes, her fingers tore into the rough of the wall, her words tumbling together. “You don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand what, that you think Sangton is better than me? Will kill me?”
“What I lost.” The words spat out even as her stomach still churned, threatening more retches. “It wasn’t just my husband’s blood on my hands that day—it was my blood.”
“Your blood?” His voice flipped to instant concern. “Elle, were you injured?”
“I was with child, Rune.” She tried to gasp for air through the sob suffocating her. “Raplan died in front of me—all his blood—and then it was my blood. He died and the babe died and it was so much blood. So much blood. I wasn’t strong enough to keep it. So much blood.”
The pain of it seized her body fully, every nerve torture under her skin. She’d gotten so good at escaping the pain, avoiding it at every turn, that she’d forgotten how quickly and viciously it could gut her. The world blurry around her, and she moved slightly upward, thinking to stand, to move away from him.
He knew now.
Knew what a failure she was. How weak she was.
Escape.
She needed to walk. Walk away until she couldn’t walk anymore, walk away from all of it, but then she doubled over again, a retch overtaking her with the reality of what was going to happen.
She was going to lose Rune in just the same way. Lose a part of her she could never get back. Another gaping chasm of a wound that would never be filled, never be healed.
She needed to walk away and she couldn’t even straighten herself enough to take a step.
“Elle.” The sudden warmth of Rune’s hand splayed onto her back, the touch conveying more than words could say. The way his fingers curled along her spine, comforting, like they were trying to steal all the pain out of her. Pain she never acknowledged, never let surface for how it would break her.
He was trying to take it away.
Not judging. Not pitying. Just there, minute after minute, willing to take anything she would let him.
Her gasping breaths eased, her lungs working properly once more.
His hand rubbed up along her spine until it rested on the base of her neck, his fingers dipping into her upsweep. “I’m taking you home.”
“And then?” Her words choked out.
“I have to prepare.”
She couldn’t pull herself upright, couldn’t move.
It was real.
Real and she was going to lose him.
