Chapter 9 #2
“Why did ye nae come to the Great Hall today?” Archer asked her instead of answering.
It was her turn to frown, confusion bubbling up inside her. “What do ye mean? I didnae ken I was invited.”
“Ye need to be invited to come to the Great Hall?”
Was that a trick question, River wondered? She had thought Archer’s invitation to the Great Hall had been a one-time thing, something that was just the result of her sending away the two maids. She didn’t know she was expected to appear there every day.
“Aye,” she decided in the end. “Of course I need an invitation.”
For the first time since entering the room, Archer turned to face her. “Why would ye think that?”
River couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her. She shook her head and raised her gaze to the ceiling, high above her head.
“Seriously?” she asked in disbelief. “Well, ye may nae remember this, but ye never wanted me opinion or me input in anythin’. Ye didnae want me to be involved in things ye could take care of by yerself. Ye were perfectly clear about that on our weddin’ night.”
Archer remained silent for so long that River began to think he had left the room without her noticing. When she looked at him, though, she found him there, standing in the exact same spot and staring at the floor.
He seemed angry—angrier than River had seen him in the past.
“That wasnae very wise of me,” he said through gritted teeth.
Och...he isnae angry with me. He’s angry with himself.
It took River a few moments to realize this, but once she did, it was like a new side of Archer was suddenly illuminated before her.
He didn’t blame her; he blamed himself, or rather the man he had once been—before the attack, before the memory loss, before he changed into someone so unrecognizable.
But that didn’t mean he could simply accuse her as he pleased!
“Nay,” River said through gritted teeth. “It wasnae. Ye always accuse me of things I daenae do!”
Suddenly, that raging look was directed at her, and for a brief moment, River found herself flinching back, despite her own fury.
“Always?” asked Archer. “Seriously?”
“Ye doubt it?” River asked. “How can ye doubt it when ye daenae remember anythin’?”
“It’s nae as if I do it on purpose!” Archer roared, and River saw the old Archer in him, the man she had married, emerging into the light. “Do ye think this is easy for me? Do ye think I enjoy rememberin’ almost naethin’ from me life?”
River didn’t have a response to that, but she did have her own piece to say.
“Do ye think I enjoy bein’ the target of all yer frustrations?
I’d much rather we didnae talk, just like we didnae talk before yer accident!
Ye keep changin’ yer mind and ye expect me to ken what we’re thinkin’ without tellin’ me any of it!
I cannae read yer mind, Archer…I daenae ken what ye want if ye willnae tell me. ”
“I daenae ken what I want!” Archer snapped.
River could see a small vein in his forehead jump to the beat of his heart, his anger so strong it was like a living thing between them.
“Everyone is tellin’ me how I should act, what I should think…
everyone wants me to be the man I used to be but I’m nae that man anymore. And I daenae ken who I am.”
In two steps, Archer approached her and took her face in his, hands holding her lightly.
He was so close that River could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, the way the shades of brown danced under the candlelight.
He was so close that she could almost feel the brush of his lips against hers as she stared up at him, a phantom touch that existed only in her imagination.
The heat in his gaze was more than mere anger. River recognized it for what it was—desire, pure and unadulterated, a craving so deep it frightened her.
“I think it’s time that ye forget about that man,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, barely a whisper. “I’m nae him.”
River didn’t know whether that was true.
He was different, that much was obvious, but was he truly an entirely different man from the one she had known?
River often saw signs of the Archer she had married in the Archer standing before her now, and so she doubted he was truly a different man.
Besides, who was to say he would never remember his true self?
But in that moment, it was easy to forget all about that, to lose herself in the way he looked at her—with such unbridled hunger, with such need that it threatened to consume her whole, much like a raging fire.
River wanted nothing more than to surrender herself to this, to him, to let him convince her, if only for a moment, that he had truly changed.
That he wanted her.
When Archer kissed her, his lips pressing firmly, passionately against her own until she had no choice but to melt like a candle in his arms, every other thought was banished from her mind.
River held not him, her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her to pull her close, her heart thudding with every passing second.
He tasted of whisky and his lips were soft, a little chapped from the wind. River had never been kissed before. Even on their wedding day, Archer hadn’t kissed her, but now it felt as if he was trying to make up for all the times he had refused her this intimacy.
By the time he pulled back, River was trying to catch her breath.
“Look at me,” he said firmly. “Look at me. The way I am now.”
River could only nod in response. It was as if her words had been stolen along with the air from her lungs.
Archer kissed her again, this time deepening the kiss, his tongue pressing past her lips to flick against hers. Her desire threatened to consume her; River was about to lose herself in her need for him, to let him do as he pleased with her, but then she stopped herself.
She had to be strong; she couldn’t give in to this base desires, not when she didn’t even know hot to feel about this new version of Archer, who was a complete stranger to her—more so than the man she had married.
“Wait,” she said, pressing a hand on Archer’s chest to push him back. “I…I cannae do this.”
Archer stared at her in surprise, clearly at a loss for words. “What?”
“I cannae do this,” River repeated, more firmly this time. “Please leave.”
For a moment, Archer didn’t move, and River was certain he would try to fight back, to change her mind. But in the end, he only gave a single, firm nod and turned around, walking to the door.
There, he paused briefly, and River had half a mind to call him back, her body screaming for him, her desire so strong that she was surprised to see her mind could keep her body from moving, from flinging itself to him and trying to pull him back. But then Archer left, slamming the door behind him.
And River was left to stand there, alone, left to wonder if she had done the right thing.