Chapter 9
My mind is still in turmoil by the time I get to the inn.
It's so late that everything is dark, but I can still see candlelight glowing from under Fen's door, giving me hope that I can ask the questions I came here to ask.
I'm not even sure what I'd have done if he'd been asleep.
Probably gone back up to the castle and festered in the room I share with another maid.
I knock on the door, biting my bottom lip as I wait for him to answer. Shuffling sounds within suggest that he's moving, and he appears a moment later. My mouth runs a bit dry as I take in the open shirt and the muscles covered in smooth, brown skin beneath.
"Ingrid?"
"Can I come in?" I ask, looking up and meeting his gaze.
"Of course." He steps back, gesturing for me to enter his room.
It looks exactly like the one I shared with Aleka on my first night here. "There's only one bed," I blurt out.
He laughs. "Of course there is, I'm the only one staying here."
"Oh, right." I clear my throat. "I'm sorry, I'm out of sorts."
"Do you want me to get you anything?" he asks. "Food? Wine? I believe there's some fresh apple juice that the innkeeper made too..."
"I'm fine," I say. "Well, actually, no, I'm not fine."
"All right, why don't you sit down?" He gestures towards the bed.
"Well, this isn't exactly how I expected to get here," I murmur under my breath.
Fen looks at me oddly. "What?"
"Nothing." I take a seat, fluffing up my skirt so it serves as a barrier between us. Not that he needs it, but it helps me remember exactly why I'm here.
"Is everything all right up at the castle?" he asks as he sits down beside me.
I sigh. "Yes and no. Everything's exactly the same as it was, but..." I take a deep breath, thinking about how I'm supposed to say this so it doesn't make it sound like I'm overreacting. "I saw Lady Eyre with her father earlier."
"Ah. He's not a pleasant man."
"He hit her." My voice cracks. "With everyone in the room."
His eyes harden. "What? Why?"
"Does it matter why?" I ask. "There is no good reason for it."
"Of course not," he agrees. "I suppose I'm just trying to understand."
"I don't think there's anything to understand. He's not a good man. He sees her like she's his property and doesn't get a say in her own life." The reality of the situation feels like it's going to overwhelm me, and I can feel the tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
"Ingrid..."
"I'm fine," I murmur, but there's a break in my voice, and a tear starts to run down my face.
"You're clearly not fine." He reaches out and puts a hand on my arm.
I knock it away. As much as I've come here wanting to talk to him, I also don't want him to touch me right now.
"Of course I'm fine. I'm not locked up in a castle waiting for my father to sell me off to an old man I don't know.
I don't have to worry about my mother beating me, or my life being over by five-and-twenty because I haven't pleased a husband that I don't even have.
None of those things have happened to me because I live in a place where it's not normal. "
"It's a good thing that it isn't normal," he says.
"It is. Of course it is. Could you imagine me as a wife?"
"Not the kind that nobles are looking for," he says quietly.
"No." I get to my feet and start pacing up and down, feeling a little frantic. "I don't want to be forced to sit around, told what to wear, who I can talk to, when I can look at someone."
"No one's saying you should do those things," he points out.
"Yes, and what about the other women?" I spin around and look at him. "What about people like Lady Eyre who are sitting in their rooms doing embroidery until their father says that they're supposed to go and marry a man who hasn't even bothered to talk to them?"
"That's what we're here for," he says. "We're going to get Lady Eyre out. Lord Alfson has asked to see me tomorrow, so it might even be as soon as by the end of the week."
"That's not the point." My protest comes out more like a half-strangled sob than anything else.
"Then tell me what the point is?" He gets to his feet, but doesn't reach out for me. That's probably wise, even if there's a part of me that does want his comfort.
"We'll get Lady Eyre out and she'll come to live at our castle for a bit.
But she's giving up her entire life for that.
Everything. She'll never see her family again.
She'll have to work for a living. She won't be able to return to her home.
" My voice is coming out scratchy even without me meaning it to.
"I know."
"Why is that good enough?" It feels as if something deep breaks within me.
Fen must sense it too, as he moves forward and gathers me into his arms. Without thinking, I grab a fist of his shirt, holding tightly as deep heaving sobs go through me.
"It's not good enough," he whispers once I've calmed down a little. "But it's better than doing nothing."
I sniff and pull back. "Shouldn't we be doing more?"
"What more can we do?" he asks. "We're not royalty.
Neither of us is even nobility. I'm the son of two people who can't return to their homeland, and I don't even know why, and you're the daughter of a maid.
We're not going to be able to convince kings to change their minds on any kind of policies, especially not those that they can use to their advantage. "
I pull away from him, immediately missing his warmth, but needing to feel more like I have space. "So what? We're supposed to just let it all happen around us?"
"We're not letting anything happen," he says. "We're here. We're helping one person. And maybe that's not much, but what about the people Lady Eyre helps in the future? Those people will be helped because we are here right now, making sure that she doesn't have to live an awful life."
"I'm not sure I can see Lady Eyre helping many people," I mutter. "She's not all that likeable if I'm honest."
Fen chuckles. "Is that going to stop you from helping her?"
"Of course not. She doesn't deserve any of this."
"No, she doesn't."
I sigh and rub a hand over my face. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Nothing," he says. "Or nothing right now. We're in the middle of a mission. I know you feel like you want to burn the world down, but you can't."
"No, I can't." A heavy defeated feeling comes over me. I know that he's right, and that I need to focus on making sure that Lady Eyre gets the escape that she's looking for, but it still feels like it's not enough.
"Why don't you sleep?" he suggests, gesturing to the bed.
"What?"
"It'll feel better in the morning," he promises. "And it's too late for you to go back to the castle now. You should take the bed."
"Where are you going to sleep?"
"On the floor, if you're comfortable with that. It might raise an eyebrow if I wake the innkeeper to ask for another room."
"You can't sleep on the floor," I respond, feeling guilty even at the insinuation, especially because I'm the one who interrupted his peace by coming and venting all of my feelings about what I've seen today.
"It's fine," he assures me.
"We can share the bed." I can hardly believe the suggestion has come out of my mouth, especially with all of the ways I've been feeling about Fen lately. It's not as if it's a wise idea for the two of us to be in such close proximity.
He clears his throat. "If you're sure."
"I am. You can't hurt your back. But you're going to have to turn around while I take off my dress and get under the covers."
Alarm crosses his face. "Take off your dress?"
"I've got a shift on underneath," I promise. "But I'm not sleeping in this."
"Ah, erm, yes, I think that makes sense."
I frown. "Are you all right? You seem a bit flustered."
"Fine, fine," he assures me in a tone that doesn't sound fine. "I just didn't think this through." He turns around.
I take the chance to strip off my dress, feeling oddly exposed now that I'm in only my shift. I slip under the covers, shuffling over to the far side of the bed and making sure I'm covered. "You can turn around now."
He nods, heading over to the table where the candle is still flickering. He blows it out, and then the sound of fabric hitting the ground follows.
I swallow hard. Maybe insisting that the two of us share the bed wasn't the smartest idea after all.
He lifts the blanket and gets underneath, settling in beside me. He's so close that only the smallest movement will bring us close to touching. And yet I don't dare do it.
I move onto my side, my eyes widening as I do. "Wait."
"Wait?"
"Close your eyes?"
"It's dark," he points out.
"Please?"
Even in the almost darkness, I can see him do it.
I slip my hand down until I get to the knife at my thigh. It's difficult to get it free without elbowing Fen, but I imagine he'll prefer that to one of us getting accidentally stabbed in the middle of the night. I get it free.
"You can open your eyes now," I tell him.
"What were you doing?"
"Taking my knife off. Would you put it on the table?" I hold it out to him, trying not to think about how warm it is and where it's just been.
"You've been wearing it?" There's a surprised note in his voice, even as he takes it from me and puts it on the table beside the bed.
"Of course I've been wearing it. I'm currently living in a castle with a lord who thinks it's acceptable to hurt his daughter."
"I think you'll find a lot of lords are willing to do that," he responds.
"So I heard." I sigh and settle down beside him.
I stare up at the ceiling, trying not to be as aware of his presence as I am. It doesn't take my mind long to drift back to the events of the day, and tears spring back to my eyes as I realise that I haven't actually solved anything.
Without meaning to, I sniff loudly.
"Ingrid?"
"It's nothing." I turn so my back is to him, hoping it'll at least hide my reaction.
He shuffles closer and puts a hand on my arm.
A loud sob breaks from me and before I really know what's happening, he's gathering me up into his arms, neither of us caring about the fact we're not wearing much and we're alone in a bed.
My whole body shudders with sobs as I let the emotions take over me. "I feel so helpless."
"I know," he whispers as he rubs a hand up and down my back. "But you're not. You're brave, and strong, and you're going to make a difference in the world. Starting with Lady Eyre."
I nod, but it doesn't stop the helpless feeling within me.
Fen leans in and kisses the top of my head. "It'll be better in the morning," he promises, his voice low and almost believable.
"I hope so," my voice cracks as I say the words.
"It will."
Silence falls between us, and my tears eventually pass, though I don't know how long it takes. The exhaustion quickly follows, setting in and making the edges of my thoughts hazy.
"Don't let me go," I whisper sleepily.
"Never," he promises, tightening his arms around me and creating a safe cocoon in which I might be able to find a hint of peace.