Chapter 44
T he screams followed me all the way back to the estate.
They haunted me throughout the long ride and the even longer nights, all while I contemplated why the blood on my hands felt weightier since she came into my life.
I had no desire to see her once I was back, to watch her look at me with disdain and feel like I deserved every ounce of her scorn this time. To have to confront the reality that I would make the same choice every time.
Of course, I was forced to think about her the moment I arrived home. Taras and Kirill both accompanied me up to my study, closing the door behind us.
“Was there a problem in my absence?”
They looked at each other, but it was Kirill who spoke. “Not a problem, necessarily, but she hasn’t left her rooms.”
“Small mercies,” I muttered.
“According to her maid, she hasn’t left her bed. Won’t come out even when Dmitriy tries to make her play cards.”
“Perhaps she’s still tired from the journey,” I offered. “Or more likely, sulking.”
“And this arrived for her today,” Kirill said, handing over a letter from Elk.
Opening the letter, I spotted Theodore’s familiar handwriting. I scanned the contents quickly, raising my eyebrows.
I now know what you were getting at in my tent. I couldn’t, in good conscience, hold you to a betrothal made under those circumstances… Neither of us is in a position to make or keep promises.
So not only had she believed me about Iiro, she had confronted Theodore with her suspicions. Somehow, she had accomplished what I never could, making Theodore actually consider that his older brother was a scheming bastard.
I thought back to her careful expression in the tent that day.
Perhaps she was capable of holding her cards closer to her chest than I gave her credit for.
“She is in a bad place to read that.”
I blinked up at Kirill, the soldier who had fought at my side through countless atrocities, and wondered where he kept those fragile pieces of his soul, how they hadn’t yet been crushed under the weight of all the things we had done.
“It’s hardly my problem if she wants to wallow in her feelings about a man like Korhonan.” My tone was shorter than I meant for it to be. “I’m already keeping her alive. If she requires a nursemaid as well, you can feel free to volunteer.”
“Understood,” he said quietly. “But for whatever it’s worth, I don’t think this is just about him. You saw her with her cousin, then saw her face when she thought she would have to ride with Artyom. She is a girl who has gone from being surrounded by family, safe, to being handed off from one enemy to the next. It would be hard for anyone.”
“ Anyone wouldn’t have traipsed down those tunnels to begin with,” I reminded him. “Or if they had, they would have been executed for it. Perhaps she should be grateful to have her life at all, considering the price we’ve all had to pay for it.”
I saw the children again. Saw blood in the snow. Took a deep breath in through my nose while I contemplated that she wasn’t the only one constantly misplacing her blame.
Taras and Kirill exchanged a look before the latter excused himself. My cousin looked at me for a long moment, pouring us both a glass of vodka.
“You did what you had to do,” he said quietly, pushing my glass over to me. “We both know the Duke would have ordered their deaths regardless. You gave them dignity and a painless end, something Samu would not have bothered with.”
I took a sip, savoring the burn all the way down. Practically, I knew he wasn’t wrong. But I was tired.
“And if you hadn’t gone, your father would have happily started this war.”
A bitter noise escaped me. “He still might.”
His lucid days, his confused ones, they were all the same when it came to the risk they posed to Rowan and our clan.
“That doesn’t change that you had no choice,” Taras said firmly.
“I know that.” Truly, I did. “I’m just tired of these being the only choices we have.”
It was a pointless thing to say. I had thought that whatever part of me was capable of longing for a life I couldn’t have died under the interminable crack of Mairi’s whip. Something about a tiny, privileged girl with a relentless spirit was threatening to breathe life to the ashes.
That was a problem. Practicality ruled our lives here. It kept us safe. We didn’t have time or luxury to long for things we couldn’t have.
Instead of pointing that out, Taras sank onto the sofa, downing his substantial amount of vodka in one go.
“So am I.”
The days passed in a slew of court dinners and meetings with my father and the occasional necessity of passing judgment in his stead.
He clapped me on the shoulder as I left dinner that night. “You’re doing well.”
I nodded and pretended his pride didn’t sour something in my stomach, knowing I had erred on the harsher side of several judgments today to elicit this very response, to keep him satisfied and far away from the issue of my captive.
Then, just like every evening, I headed upstairs to the hallway I shared with the captive in question. Henrick stood outside her door tonight.
I met his eyes, and he shook his head. It was strange how quickly I had grown accustomed to the sight of her sprawled on the floor like a commoner, skirts haphazardly strewn around her. Strange that the wing felt almost too quiet without her victorious cackling following me into my rooms.
Frustration flared within me.
While I was out dealing with my father and storms knew what else, was she really sulking and refusing to leave her rooms over one failed negotiation?
More proof that she would never survive here. Not that she would have to, when I found a way to send her home and ensure she wouldn’t come right back to marry into Elk.
It didn’t matter. She didn’t matter. None of this mattered.
I shut the door behind me with a thunk that resounded in the silent hallways, ignoring the disappointment written all over Henrick’s features.