Chapter 16
Arguably, the bravest person in the entire freaking world
Gwen managed to make it to Hilde’s door and choke out a brief account of the state of Isobelle’s room. Hilde saw the expression on Gwen’s face and started to reach for her, but Gwen took a step back.
‘Please – she’s going to need you,’ she managed. ‘More than I do.’
Hilde’s expressive face softened, showing her confusion and curiosity, but she nodded and went.
Gwen didn’t remember walking back to her own room, only the thud of the door closing behind her. She didn’t make it to the bed, but dropped to her knees on the rug before the fire, which had been lit by one of the inn staff.
Then she broke. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she didn’t bother to dash them away as a great sob tore its way out of her chest. She doubled over, hands pressed against the rug.
She couldn’t breathe – it was like when she’d fought the dragon, the absolute despair that filled her when that great, malevolent eye stripped her of everything she held dear.
That despair she’d tried to bury and banish to the realm of nightmares.
She felt the way she did when she woke, crying out, in the dark.
Terrified.
Only now, there was no Isobelle there, waiting for her.
Because Isobelle thought Gwen was a coward too.
A knock came on her door, but Gwen could no more form the words ‘go away’ than she could stop crying.
The door opened, and Orson poked his head in. ‘Gwen, I was wondering if … oh.’ He stared at her, aghast.
Gwen could only look up at him from the rug, hiccupping slightly, body still shaking with the force of feeling sweeping through her.
Orson hesitated, looking as though he might simply back up, close the door and pretend nothing was happening. But then he slipped inside, closing the door gently and moving towards Gwen. ‘What’s happened?’
Gwen waved a hand at him – Orson was the last person she wanted to see, and the last person she wanted to see her like this.
He stopped, but didn’t retreat. Instead, he dropped into a crouch, fingers splayed on the edge of the rug.
His eyes were intent, concerned, alarmed – abruptly, Gwen remembered how quickly he’d stepped up to keep her secret in the Darkhaven tournament, how good it had felt to be accepted by another knight.
In that moment it didn’t matter that he’d turned around and betrayed her later.
She just needed someone, anyone, to accept her that way again.
‘Isobelle,’ she managed, her voice thin and high through the lump in her throat. ‘She’s been keeping things from me because she thinks I can’t … and she knows, Orson. She knows.’
He blinked at her. ‘Knows what?’
Gwen thought she wouldn’t be able to get the words out. She thumped her fist against the floor and managed to blurt, ‘That I’m a goddamned coward!’
For a moment, only the crackle of the fire broke the silence.
Then Orson did the absolute last thing Gwen would have expected.
He laughed.
It was a quick, shocked bark of laughter, and he sat down suddenly and stared at her. Then he started laughing in earnest.
Sheer surprise stopped Gwen’s sobs, and she felt a surge of anger pulling her up out of utter despair. ‘What the hell?’ she blurted, dashing her tears away.
‘You?’ managed Orson, his own eyes wet, but with mirth. ‘You, a coward?’ He started laughing again, burying his face in his hands.
‘Get out, if you’re going to laugh at me.’
Orson shook his head, wiping his eyes and getting himself marginally under control.
‘Gwen, I’ve spent the entire time since the tournament drowning myself in sorrow about my own cowardice.
And now I’m sitting here with someone who is, arguably, the bravest person in the entire freaking world, listening to her cry because she thinks she’s a coward?
’ He rubbed his hand over his face, shaking his head again.
Gwen exhaled sharply – not quite a laugh, but the breath eased the constriction of her ribs.
‘You don’t know the truth,’ she mumbled.
‘The dragon … I can’t get over it. It’s inside me, somehow.
And since we got here, it’s become worse.
Like this place … brings it out of me, makes it stronger.
I was trying to hide it from Isobelle, and it turns out, I should’ve tried harder. ’
Orson gazed at her thoughtfully. ‘So what happened tonight?’
Gwen gave him a halting account of everything – the nightmares, the hot springs, coming home to find Isobelle’s rooms tossed, and the letter that led to everything coming out.
‘And she kept it all hidden because she thought I couldn’t handle it,’ she finished abruptly, before she could start crying again.
‘Well, you proved her wrong,’ said Orson wryly, eyeing Gwen’s tear-streaked face and crumpled posture.
Gwen shot him a sharp look. ‘She lied to me.’
‘Weren’t you trying to lie to her? About your nightmares?’ Orson retorted.
Gwen stared at him.
Orson flashed her a wan smile. ‘All this time, she was trying to protect you while you were trying to protect her. I don’t know, that sounds a bit like two people who love each other and just haven’t figured out yet how that actually works.’
Gwen’s thoughts were still racing, and her body felt as if someone had picked her up and wrung her out like a wet rag, but she could breathe.
‘I wonder,’ murmured Orson, as if speaking to himself.
‘What?’
‘How many of the mistakes we make boil down, in their simplest form, to just that. Fear.’ He hummed a soft breath into the ensuing silence, and then shook himself and looked back at Gwen. ‘So what’s the plan?’
Gwen hesitated. ‘I told Isobelle we’d sit down with everyone and try to figure out what’s going on in this town, so we could go back to Darkhaven.’
And then what? Gwen asked herself – but she had no answer.
‘Right, then,’ said Orson, getting to his feet.
‘I’ll go fetch Tabitha, she’ll know how best to approach defeating a legend populated by potentially fictitious necromancers and the ghosts of witches.
’ He paused, and added, ‘I might check with Sylvie too, she’s a surprisingly good strategist. We’ll make a plan and we’ll all discuss it tomorrow, together. ’
Gwen looked up at him, past the dirty-blond stubble on his chin and the ragged, grown-out hair, seeing once more that shining Sir Awesome who had been Darkhaven’s hero before the mysterious Sir Gawain had swept in and stolen the county’s hearts.
She hoped Isobelle had been right about him and Tabitha – he deserved someone.
She staggered to her feet. ‘Orson …’ she said, forestalling him as he turned towards the door. He glanced back at her, and she mumbled, ‘Thank you.’
He grinned. ‘Anytime, Sir Gwen. Us knights have to have each others’ backs when we break down sobbing in the middle of the night.’
Gwen rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, I take it all back: get out.’