WaterRose, Meadow Mountain, Grier Country

ALAZAR

Riaura was huddled under the furs attempting to warm from the cold ride back to Nightway Castle.

Jessica brought a warming block wrapped in cloth to tuck under her feet.

Riaura already sat before the fire in the small chair. “Feels as though I can’t get warmed up.”

“This will help, Mistress.” Jessica reassured. “Have you seen the King, My Queen?”

“No.” Riaura sighed. “True to his word, he’s remained nowhere to be seen since our wedding eve.”

“You’d like to talk to him?” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I’m unsure if I’d like to seek some comfort for this odd circumstance or to yell at him until my pride is assuaged.”

“Likely both.” Jessica nodded. “But may I ask why you are so miserable. He is fine of figure, large and strapping. Handsome faced. Strong both in body and mind. And kind when warranted. Why do you still suffer such abhorrence?”

“Must I remind you he’s responsible for the horrific murders of the peasants of Nightway Keep?”

“Yes, Mum.” Jessica lowered her voice. “But you did mention you believed it was he. Do you now know?”

“Well…No. I-”

Jessica still knelt next to her. Waiting with the quiet silence that only servants were practiced in.

“No.” Riaura eventually admitted.

“Come, Mistress.” Jessica helped her rise. “Let’s get you tucked into your bed. I can move the warming block there. I’ll add some extra furs to help warm you. You should not be dealing with such discontent without decent rest.”

Riaura took her hand and rose, holding the fur around her shoulders as she obediently went to the bed. “Why are you so good to me.”

“Because Mistress, you’ve always been so kind to me.” Jessica smiled fondly as she helped her under the coverlet and pulled a fur up to her waist.

When Riaura was near to succumbing to sleep she felt the furs drawn over her and tightly tucked about her chilled shoulders. A gentle pressure against her cheek as someone brushed their lips there.

“Goodnight, Alazareth…” She purred sleepily.

“Goodnight, Ri.”

The next day was sunny and beautiful...and Riaura was thankful for it.

Her fitful dreams had been filled with the terrible truth about Charles. The Barrister’s words swirling back and forth in the back of her mind.

“Are you ready to talk about the truth now?” Alazar asked from the corner of the room. Where he stood leisurely propped against the two walls. Chewing on a bit of wheat absentmindedly.

Fear washed over her. So potent he could clearly feel it.

“You wouldn’t give me the name of who did it because it was Charles, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” He rubbed his chin, gauging her reaction.

“Why wouldn’t you just tell me.”

“I tried. So many times…”

She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes. Shaking her head in denial.

But she’s ready to hear now. He could sense it in every wave of pain that swelled through her.

“I failed my people because I couldn’t see what he was doing.”

“You did. But it doesn’t have to continue now. You could rule them as you wish.”

“You’d let me?” Her head spun to study him.

“That is what I wanted.”

“It’s ironic, I suppose.” She rubbed away a stray tear. “That all the while I fought my soul-deep desire to be closer to you.”

“Why did you?”

“Fight it?”

He stroked his chin pensively. Waiting for her answer. She knows what I’m asking.

“Because of the darkness in you. And because you wouldn’t help me stop the killings.”

“Couldn’t. I didn’t know when and where he’d strike, and you wouldn’t help me. But I fail to see how it’s ironic.”

“I thought you were dark. Yet the man I’d intended for my King because of his gentleness was behind my kingdom’s abuse.”

“Now that,” He pulled the wheat from his mouth to point it at her. “Is ironic, indeed.”

“So now you understand his ruthlessness? How he tormented them to get the names of the Rebels.”

“That’s why?” She gave him a stunned look. “Why did he care?”

“Because they were stopping him from stealing all of Nightway’s fields and produce. And taking back what they could. Killing his men when the opportunity arose. The Rebels have spent far more time fighting him than you.”

“Because of you?” She tested.

“Yes.”

“You’re one of them?”

“I’ve been leading them.” He admitted. “Judge me, hate me, if you must.”

“Why would you lead them and serve as my Captain of the Guard?”

“To protect you in every way I could. To keep the assassins away and to keep the Rebels from killing you in blame for what you let Danbury do to their families and their stock.”

She gave him an assessing look.

“It’s all true.” He vowed. Popping the wheat back between his teeth.

“I nearly married the villain.” She broke down. Dropping her face into her hands.

And he had to work to refrain from going to her and offering comfort. Not this time.

“There’s been no uprising since your rule.” She shook her head. “How did I not see it?”

“You have. You just wouldn’t admit it to yourself.”

“My nightmares have stopped.”

“Because no children are suffering. I’ve been delivering food to them. Tending them. Speaking to them.”

“They’re happy?”

“Merely content. For now.”

“I lived for this Keep. I cared for them.”

“I know you did.” His tone softened.

“I’ve heard them talk about you.”

“And what have they said?” Shadows still slashed over the top of his face. She could see only his cream-colored tunic and brown breeches. The usual dark belt cinching it. And the silhouette of his spiked blonde hair.

“I hate that you could see it, but I could not.”

“You were too close to it.”

She wrapped her arms about herself.

Wrestling with her conscience. He’d seen her take this pose before.

“I missed you.” She sobbed. “Why have you stayed away.”

“To give you time to realize the things you needed to.” He walked from the room as coldly as he’d been the last few weeks.

Shivering she rolled into a ball and tucked back under her coverlet.

It was nearly an hour later that she felt a sense of arms wrapping her.

“Are you here or a figment?” She asked.

But the grip tightened around her. Offering warmth and the comfort she’d craved.

When she’d dared open her eyes, she found no arms encircling her. And a glance over her shoulder revealed no breathing mortal there. Though she felt his breaths on the skin of her neck.

But any Forever Knight could’ve clearly seen him there. Laying with her in spirit so he could continue his feigned coldness. When in reality he was there with her. Holding his precious wife, cradled in the crook of his body. His face nestled in her hair.

Protecting her as much as I can from the remorse she’s suffering.

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