41. A Hope and a Lie
A Hope and a Lie
Faren
Sometime in the night, the storm broke.
Faren woke with a beam of light slanting across his face, a yellow burst that filled his vision with warmth.
Beside him, Mariana was asleep on her stomach, her face turned toward the window.
Faren’s hand rested in the center of her back—the most contact her sensitive magic would allow.
His other arm was folded awkwardly underneath his head and ached from being in one position all night, but he’d happily keep it there forever, if it meant that he could stay like this with her.
He’d never witnessed her breathe so deeply.
With his fingers splayed between her shoulder blades, he could feel how relaxed her body was in sleep, in bed with him.
It felt like a miracle that she was still here; he’d been awake most the night, disbelieving.
He’d half expected the sun not to rise, for all his hoping that this would never end.
But the sun was up, shining through a break in the clouds, magnified by the window glass, heating his face.
Faren turned his cheek, smiling into the splay of Mariana’s soft hair on her pillow, not yet ready for the day—but also bolstered by the ideas he’d been turning over in his mind while she slept. A plan to help them both.
When she stirred, it was with a sensuous lengthening of her spine.
Fates help him, she even woke with grace.
She turned languidly, her body rolling into his, their skin sticking and her shoulder poking his chest as she resettled on her back.
Her eyes were distant at first, then searching, as she focused sleepily on his face.
He watched, rapt, as it dawned on her that last night had been real.
A line formed between her eyebrows, and he waited helplessly for her to recoil or push him away.
But then it smoothed, and the corners of her mouth tilted up, and creases materialized beside her eyes, forming a smile—an unguarded, happy smile—that he’d never forget.
Faren couldn’t help himself. He gripped the side of her neck, steadying her as he kissed her temple, the tip of her nose, the scar on her upper lip.
He felt like he was holding the sunrise in his arms. Pure joy radiated through him, giving rise to an irrational sense of foreboding; it was a high that made him fear the fall.
Was there a name for such a feeling? A passion so strong that he feared its loss like a preemptive grief?
“The sun came up.” Mariana’s voice was a river breaking over rock. “Are you as disappointed as I am?”
“Yes,” he said. “I quite enjoyed being lost in the dark with you.”
Faren slid his hand across her bare ribs, craving closeness and hoping she didn’t mind.
She turned into him, burying her face against his chest. He thought, at first, that she was making a move—but then, as he squeezed her closer, he felt a tremor ripple through her body.
He eased his grip, thinking that so much skin contact might be too much for her—but she only clutched him tighter.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Her words were muffled by his skin. “I’m sad it’s over.”
“Over?” He smoothed her hair out of her face, meeting her eyes. “What do you mean?”
She blinked at him. Touched his throat—his Oath tattoo—with gentle fingers.
“Ah,” he said, turning onto his back and taking her with him, so that she was nestled against his body, one sensuous thigh draped over his. “I believe I have a solution for that, if you’d like to hear it.”
Her nod was hesitant.
“But first, I need to know something.” Faren’s fingers grazed her jaw. “Last night. What did it mean to you?”
He half expected her to balk and make a crass joke. Instead, she said, “Too much, probably.”
“Ah, good. Me, too,” he said brightly. “We’re on the same page.”
A small smile flickered across her face, as if his admission pleased her. He still wasn’t accustomed to her being forthright about her thoughts and feelings, and he supposed there would never come a time when he took that trust for granted.
“Something was confirmed for me in Waldron,” Faren began, his tone dropping low, even though they were alone. “About the Lord and the Morta.”
Mariana bolted upright. “Fates, Faren, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Well, at first, there was your terrible mood when we were leaving town. Then the rain. Then—well—me, fucking you senseless.”
“I wasn’t senseless,” she said, a blush blooming high on her cheekbones.
“You most certainly were.”
She scoffed, but didn’t argue, and a smug sort of affection broke open in Faren’s chest. He liked Mariana like this.
He liked uncovering all the warmth, humor, and tenderness beneath her surly exterior.
It made him feel special, chosen—and not because of his status or what he accomplished, but because of who he was.
“Listen,” he urged, sitting up to reposition himself against the headboard.
He pulled her against him and tugged the blanket up, shielding them from the cool morning air.
“On the surface, our allegiances appear to be at odds—the Lordship versus the Valiant—but there is a third option we might consider.”
Her eyes went wide. “Don’t tell me you’re forsaking your Oath just to—”
“Fuck you senseless again?”
She thumped his chest with a fist, which he quickly encircled in his own.
“I am not forsaking my Oath,” he said. “On the contrary, I believe I am more aligned with my duty than ever—and that’s because of you.
” He gestured toward the window and, beyond it, the rolling hills of Fenrir and the distant capital.
“You forced me to see a truth that I would’ve otherwise kept myself blinded to. ”
“No, I didn’t,” she said, forlorn. “I couldn’t even voice it to you.”
“Perhaps not, but it was you who gave me a chance to hear it and believe it,” he said.
“You also helped me realize that it’s my imperative to interpret my loyalty based on my Oath as well as my morals—especially in the face of corruption.
My allegiance is to the realm—to this great territory and kingdom—and so is yours.
Which means we are not enemies, but allies, as I originally insisted.
Of that, I am more certain now than ever. ”
“What are you saying? Aside from ‘I told you so.’”
“I’m saying,” he enunciated, grazing his mouth against her forehead, “that there is hope, yet.”
She drew back. “Hope for what?”
“A better outcome than you leaving me in Fenrir City, never to see each other again, except, perhaps, when the armies of our Orders meet.”
She seemed taken aback by him putting it so plainly.
“Unless you, in fact, want to leave me in Fenrir City, never to see me again, except, perhaps, to bring my end?” He made it sound like a joke, but the feelings behind it—the fear and insecurity—held a kernel of honesty.
“Of course not,” she said, and he exhaled. “But how, Faren? How is there any hope of a better outcome than ruin?”
He met her eyes. “Major Farkept.”
Her jaw pulsed.
“He’s aware of the Lord’s corruption. He—”
“I know he is,” Mariana interrupted. “He’s known for years, and yet he serves the bastard anyway.” Seeming to realize that she, too, served a bastard, she added, “Willingly.”
“If there’s anything I know about Oderin, it’s that he’s biding his time.
Working covertly. I think—” Faren broke off, searching for the right way to articulate the ideas that had been swirling in his mind since Waldron.
“I think he sent me on this mission hoping that I’d learn the truth.
I suspect his Oath prevents him from speaking it aloud to anyone who doesn’t already know—just as yours and mine seem to—and this was the only way for him to alert another Mighty Knight of what’s going on. ”
“And?”
“What if we help him? Together?”
Mariana balked. “My Oath is not my only leash, Faren. My faction is suspicious enough as it is; they won’t let me simply disappear. I know too much.”
“I’ll protect you,” Faren said simply.
She raised a brow.
“Or, rather, you’ll protect yourself and I’ll be there also,” Faren amended with an easy smile.
“Even so, I don’t think it’ll come to that.
You can deliver your potions as planned, then feign another summons.
There are plenty of reasons for you to travel to Castle Might.
Oderin or I could make it official-looking if that helps. ”
She squinted at him, somber. “I don’t think you understand. My allegiance to the Valiant is more complicated than that.”
“You want freedom,” he stated. “You serve Heris Morvain because he promised you a way out of your sentence. But he is not the only one who can offer you what you seek.”
Mariana began to shake her head, a disbelieving motion that soon turned to protest, then a fear Faren had never seen before and didn’t fully understand. “No. No, you cannot cross him, Faren. If you try, he’ll—”
“I don’t mean to cross Heris,” he said. “But Oderin knows about the Lord, and he knows about the Valiant rebellion, and I think—I think he’s looking for an advantage.”
Mariana was frowning, still not willing, it seemed, to see the path Faren was laying out before her.
“You could be that advantage, Mariana,” he said plainly. “In exchange for a guarantee of your freedom, we could work with Oderin to undermine both Lord Haron and Heris Morvain. All while serving our Oaths and getting you what you want in the end. That’s my plan.”
For a moment, her face was blank and desolate. Faren braced for more objections and concerns, for her to tell him it was impossible. But then her eyes began to glisten, and her mouth quivered, and she glanced away, blinking rapidly.
“I know it’s risky, but…” Faren trailed off, wincing and uncertain.
When Mariana looked at him again, her voice was thick with emotion. “You would you do that for me?”
The question caught him off guard. “Of course.”
She shook her head disbelievingly. “The Fate of your beloved realm does not hinge on my freedom—yet your plan does. Why?”
He kissed her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. “Because I’m on your side, Mariana, and I want you to get what you want.”
She stared at him as if she were about to fall apart. In a small voice, she said, “No one has ever prioritized my desires before.”
“Despite my better judgement, sweetheart, your desires have become a fascination of mine.” He tipped her chin up. “It’s quite inconvenient.”
A small smile formed on her lips; it felt like a victory.
For a heady moment, they shared breath. Then Mariana stretched up, taking his bottom lip in her teeth with a needy and sucking kiss.
Her mouth was hot and wet, her breathing ragged, and soon she was in his lap again, pressing him against the headboard, draping her body over his like the most exquisite silk.
“Do you need time to warm up?” he asked, smoothing his hands over the lean muscles of her back.
“I’m warm,” she replied huskily.
With the sunlight spilling through the window, and Mariana’s honeyed skin under his fingertips, bliss poured into Faren’s body like wine into a chalice.
Magic filled his veins, and this time, he did not hold back—he allowed it to flood his senses and feel every dizzying, minute detail.
The texture of her tongue on his neck. The hard buds of her nipples pressed against his chest. The soft wet heat of her as she eased herself down onto his shaft, and her strong thighs flexing against his hips as she began to rock slowly in his lap.
He held the back of Mariana’s head with one hand, fingers tangled in her hair.
The other hand found the small of her back, steadying the erotic undulation of her body.
It felt like a dream, this warmth spreading through him.
It was pleasure and sensation, but it was also hope and defiance.
An audacious belief that this woman in his arms was not a foretold ending, but a Fateful beginning.
“Mariana,” Faren whispered into her ear like a promise.
Her body convulsed around him. He held her hips firmly, providing more friction.
Then she was coming: shuddering, panting, soundless.
He’d adored her little moans as they’d explored each other last night, but he also adored the way her ecstasy rendered her silent, as if she were a multitude of sensation too grand for anything other than reverent, witnessing quietude.
He was not so profound in his pleasure. He came with an unbidden groan, spilling into her.
He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, hugging her as close as he could and still feeling as if they were not close enough, not even with his orgasm still pulsing inside her.
She clung to him just as tightly, her fingers curled in his hair.
Gradually, the rocking of their bodies slowed, stilled.
When the gold-dust haze of their pleasure had subsided, it was as if their conversation had not been interrupted.
“Your plan”—Mariana’s voice was hoarse—“accounts for the Lord, and the Valiant, and the realm, and me—but what about you? What do you want, in the end?”
You, he couldn’t bring himself to say. He was afraid of how much he’d mean it, how consuming it might become. He already felt like holding her in his arms was not enough for how much he wanted her.
“I want to fulfill my duty,” he answered instead. “I want to make a difference.”
She traced his stubbled cheek with her fingers, eyebrows creasing for a reason he couldn’t quite guess. “You want to keep your Oath.”
“If I broke it now, I’d trigger the Ledger and alert the Lord.”
“I know that,” she said carefully. “But later…after all this…if we succeed…why not retire? Why stay tethered to the place where your Fate runs out?”
“I can’t outrun my Fate, Mariana,” he said simply.
“Besides, my Oath isn’t like yours. It’s not a punishment; it’s a privilege.
It guides me and grounds me. It’s who I am.
” He cupped the lean muscle of her upper arm, his thumb grazing the scar on her bicep.
“My hope, at the end of all this, is to install a new ruler who is more deserving and kind. To find purpose and value in my charge once again and make my Fate matter. I want…” He slid his hand down her arm and twined his fingers with hers.
“I want the things that I love to be safe.”
“The realm?” she clarified, sounding almost disappointed. “That’s what you love most, right?”
“Right,” he stated—and for the first time in his life, it felt, strangely, like a lie.