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“If I fight him, he’ll just take whatever he wants anyway. It’ll only be worse for me if I do.”
“Only you hold the power of what people are allowed to do to you. You hold the power of what they hold against you. You. No one else.” His words echoed inside my head. A remnant of words, from a distant, long forgotten memory, a vision.
A trigger.
As the young boy stood before the throne of gold, the man with a coronet of gilded laurel leaves on his head spoke with a stern tone, his voice echoing through the room. The boy's eyes widened as he listened to the man's chiding words. Meanwhile, a younger girl looked down at her feet, feeling ashamed of her actions and blushed in embarrassment.
“She was only following along, Sire. It is not her fault,” the boy defended, speaking up for her.
“You hold the power of what people are allowed to do to you, boy,” the man replied, his tone unchanged. “She is well aware of the consequences. She knows others can and will hold power against her, and you for that matter.”
Feeling remorseful, the girl's voice was quiet and meek as she spoke, “I’m sorry.”
The man's expression softened as he turned to the girl, “No need to be sorry, child. You have learned your lesson, and that is enough.”
Then, he turned his gaze to the boy and said, “Protect her, she is yours. And you are hers. You are stronger together than you are apart.”
The boy and the girl responded with a respectful bow, saying in unison, “Yes, sir.”
Lady Conwell’s voice echoed through the room, pulling the vision from my mind. Bringing me back to my body- blinking rapidly to clear my head. I had no idea where the vision came from or who they were, what it meant. It was not one ofmymemories. Her voice cut through the hum of chatter, drawing everyone's attention to her. “Oh it is so good of you to join us here tonight. Not only as we celebrate the arrival of Spring but for this very special occasion.”
Her words were met with polite applause, but my attention was drawn to the couple standing at the front of the room. Cressida slipped her hand into the crook of Kaston's arm, a loving and tender gesture that he all but ignored. Her smile as she beamed up at him gave the impression that she was head over heels in love with him. That he was good and loving. How the veil had been pulled over her eyes.
As Lady Conwell continued her speech, the murmurs in the room grew louder. “Yes, yes we are here to celebrate the betrothal of our dear son. Our youngest boy, Kaston, to the lovely Lady Cressida Finkley.” A round of applause went up around me and Caine, but I barely heard it. My grip on his arm tightened, his presence grounding me.
The hurt still hit me hard, like a punch to the gut. I had loved Kaston once. I had wanted him to be mine. So this news, this announcement of their betrothal was still very painful. Even after Kaston's declaration of keeping me for himself. It still caused my heart to ache as I watched them. I should have expected this. It should not bother me the way it does.
“Are you okay?”
I heard Caine’s voice float around inside my head. My gaze left Kaston to look up at him, the concern in his own eyes behind his mask. A small smile spread across my lips as I nodded my head, but my voice betrayed me. A squeak as I replied. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Caine slowly pulled his eyes away from my face to look at his brother. Accepting the congratulations, with Cressida on his arm beaming. “There was more to what I saw in the study wasn’t there?”
I shook my head, Kaston’s threat rang in my ears. “No.” I lied.
He squeezed my fingers before letting go of my hand. “Would you like a drink Serra?”
“Please.”
Caine nodded before he slipped away silently. I lost sight of him as the crowd moved around me. The masks glittering in the light from the chandeliers above. I had no idea who anyone was. No one here that I knew. I was not one of them. A stark reminder of where my position was. A soft melody embraced me as the music played.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw . . . no, I felt . . . someone watching me again. I spun in place to see who, but there was no one there. An even stranger feeling that darkness watched me, waited for me to acknowledge it. Acquainted and calling. Caine reappeared, a goblet in his hand filled with champagne. A small plate of food in the other.
“You should eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” I offered, taking the goblet from him before downing it in one go. Caine took it back and placed it on a tray as a waiter walked by.
“You’re sure? You really should eat something. You’ve gone pale as a ghost.”
“I’m fine.” I whispered, my eyes cast down. What I would not give at this moment to disappear.
He sighs, his voice soft, “I have learned in the past that when a woman says ‘she’s fine’ that in reality, she isn’t. What's wrong? Something is bothering you.”
I stared up at him, I did not know this man. “To be honest Caine, I hardly know you. Sharing my life and its secrets with you? No. Thank you, really, for saving me from your brother but I’m fine. I don’t even know why you would care.”
He hesitated for a moment before handing the plate to someone else and jamming his hands into his pockets. The silence between us was thick, the tension palpable. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had been too trusting of one Conwell boy already, and I didn't know this man well enough to let my guard down around him.
I turned to make my escape, hoping to find a quiet place to be alone, but he caught my hand before I could slip away. His touch was gentle, almost tentative, as he asked, “Please Serra, will you dance with me?”
