Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
“Sometimes I feel as if I am the most awkward individual God has created.” – from the diary of Oren Byrne, age fourteen.
I’d tucked myself in my favorite corner of the library.
I could hardly breathe for the embarrassment curling in my gut, though I couldn’t bring myself to regret my actions with Lord Abnus.
I wanted him so badly it felt like, at times, the air I breathed wasn’t enough.
My head fell back against the wingback chair as I released a long sigh.
I threw one of my legs over the arm of the chair in an undignified sprawl, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Lord Abnus and I had been so close to moving in the direction I wished to go, but at the same time, was it the right direction or something I should pursue?
All it took was a single glance at the stack of books on the small table between the chairs to tell someone how romantic I was.
Poetry of lovers torn asunder and romances filled the space.
Romance and attraction weren’t the same thing.
Lust was as common as weeds. People felt it for many reasons, and I felt no shame in admitting my own lust for Lord Abnus and other people in the past. But love, actual long-standing love, was more than a momentary flash of attraction.
I wanted more than lust; I wanted to be in love and loved in return.
The moment in the hunting shed had been filled with lust and attraction, but could it become more?
If I was honest, I could admit that Lord Abnus knew me better than anyone, except maybe Aidan, if I discounted the recent months of estrangement.
We’d often spoken of a variety of topics, and he was aware of my opinion on them all.
But in return, I knew so little of him, only scraping the surface of his likes and dislikes, let alone his hidden desires and needs.
So much mystery remained behind that staid expression he wore.
However, we had the potential to be more than the friends we currently were, but whether that would come to fruition was something I couldn’t answer.
Besides, I wasn’t sure if it was even wise for me to pursue something with Lord Abnus.
Mother’s words about his soul mate refused to silence, and that was but one of the issues.
He was a dark fae lord with many responsibilities in the Night Court, and I was a twenty-one year old gentleman who had no land, little money, and years of schooling ahead of me.
Even for Lord Abnus, I didn’t want to give up my dream. Wellington had been somewhere I’d dreamed about going since I understood what it was. Education had always been a love of mine, and Wellington was the best learning institute in the country, or at least according to my family and their bias.
A knock sounded, and I looked up. Cethin leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed and smirk gracing his face.
He looked more feral than usual, his cheekbones sharper and the planes of his face harsher, like his glamour was slipping, though I didn’t catch even the barest glimpse of his horns or wings.
“Cethin,” I said, greeting my brother-in-law.
His pitch-black eyes ran over me, making me squirm.
“I should make you take responsibility for Abnus,” he announced.
I choked. “I beg your pardon?”
“That is how humans say it, correct?” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “You were alone with Abnus and caught in a rather suspicious position.”
Holding up a hand to forestall him from speaking further, I asked, “You want to force me to marry Lord Abnus because we were caught in an inappropriate manner?”
“Yes,” he replied evenly.
“Fae don’t care whether people engage in intimate relations before marriage.”
“We do not.”
“Then why would you try and force Lord Abnus and I together?”
“I wonder,” Cethin replied.
I frowned, puzzling through the possibilities. I couldn’t think of a situation that would make Cethin care about whether Lord Abnus and I fucked or not. But, by his own words, he wanted me to wed his cousin. Was it because I was Aidan’s brother and Lord Abnus was Cethin’s cousin?
A thought came to me, and I asked, “Is Aidan worried about me and Lord Abnus or does he wish to force Lord Abnus to take responsibility for me?”
Aidan had better not, unless he would like us to be at even more odds. Yes, I wasn’t opposed to wedding Lord Abnus, but I refused to allow anyone to force him into such drastic actions.
“Aidan commented on the activity we happened upon, but no. He would never act against your happiness. This is my desire, not my mate’s.”
That was surprising. I chewed on my bottom lip as I studied Cethin. His expression remained unreadable, and his relaxed posture gave nothing away.
“Are you going to tell my parents?” I asked. They could force me down the aisle, though I was unsure if either would, as no one outside the family had seen us, but the question was whether Cethin or my parents could force Lord Abnus into marrying me.
“Not yet or perhaps ever, depending,” Cethin replied.
“On what?”
“Whether you take responsibility for Abnus.”
I laughed humorlessly. I couldn’t believe this was happening. While I wouldn’t necessarily call Cethin my elder brother or my friend, I was fond of him and assumed he felt much the same for me. But now, he was attempting to force my hand.
“You would make Lord Abnus, your cousin, marry me?”
Cethin cocked his head, sending his white hair tumbling over his shoulder. “I have said as much.”
“How could you do that to him?” I asked. Lord Abnus didn’t love me, and yet Cethin would cry injury to make us be together.
He finally pushed off the shelf and crouched in front of me.
Cethin stared directly into my eyes as he said, “Abnus is only a few years younger than I. We grew up together. He’s my only cousin, and I regard him like a brother.
How you feel toward your own brothers is much like how I feel about Abnus, except I have had eons with him to your paltry years with your own brothers. So ask yourself why I would do this?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head.
Cethin grinned, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile—he saved those for Aidan. “Think on it. If you do as your culture and religion dictates, I shall hold my tongue. If you do not, I shall tell your parents what I know, and demand you to take responsibility.”
“You’re fucking bastard, you know that?”
He laughed—the first true laugh I’d ever heard from him away from Aidan’s side. “You have a mouth and temper beneath your worrying, shy temperament. I like it. It will serve you and Abnus well.”
I flushed. I did, though my anger was rare.
“Think on it, brother of my mate.” Cethin stood and started to leave when he said, “Aidan and I leave in the morning. Do take care of Abnus in my absence. I’m sure he will be lonely and in need of tending.”
I chucked a decorative pillow at him, which he evaded with ease; chuckling darkly, he disappeared around a bookshelf.
I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Cethin’s words repeated unendingly in my mind.
Why? Why was he doing this? I couldn’t figure it out.
I’d wanted to confront Aidan, but I’d hesitated when I tracked him down in the bookroom.
He’d been going over letters and books, hair stuck up in several places like he’d run his fingers through it.
Cethin had also been present, legs thrown over the arm of a chair, reading.
Even with my vile brother-in-law smirking at me, I’d almost said something, but Ilene Maher, our family’s physician, had come in.
She had a stack of books, one of which was a volume of the Sídhetír Memoirs.
No one besides the Byrne family was allowed to read them.
Aidan had given it to her in his distraction, along with several books of fae healing plants.
She’d come to return it, as well as bring something for Aidan to drink.
Something for exhaustion; my brother did look tired, but anyone would be in his place.
It made me realize that Aidan was far too busy to worry about me and Cethin’s odd fight.
Besides, Cethin had raised his eyebrow in an obvious challenge.
He’d practically begged me to ask for Aidan’s protection, as I usually did.
This time, though, I was going to stand on my feet. I’d raised my chin and left.
At dinner, Lord Abnus had sat beside me, and the conversation had flowed naturally. He’d acted like nothing had occurred between us, and I didn’t know whether to be insulted or relieved.
Giving up the pretense of sleeping, I tossed the blankets off.
I donned my robe and slippers, slipping into the corridor.
It was dark, but I knew my way. I wound downstairs to the library, intending on securing another book to read; perhaps one I’d read multiple times, to lull me to sleep, when I inexplicably stalled in place.
A woman stood outside in the garden. She was familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Her blonde hair hung down her back in gentle waves, and her blue eyes were locked on the clear sky. A thin robe and even thinner nightgown hung around her wiry frame.
I stepped outside, hissing at the sharp bite of the air. The woman didn’t even glance at me. Her bare feet were buried in the snow. She had to be freezing, but she didn’t even shake.
“Miss,” I called, stepping closer. “Miss, are you well?”
“The sky is lovely,” she replied. “Bright, and yet it doesn’t seem right.”
I looked at the stars—everything appeared to be as it should. I almost laughed. Had I really expected the heavens to have changed?
“Perhaps you should go inside. It’s cold,” I told her, trying to place where I’d seen her before.
She was human as I was and near my own age or a couple years younger.
Her round cheeks and pert nose pricked the back of my mind, but I still couldn’t remember where I’d seen her before.
She had to be a household servant, but who?
“Is it?” she asked, finally looking away from the sky to stare at me. “Mr. Oren Byrne, it is rather late for you, is it not?”
“For us both,” I replied, hovering near the door. Who the hell was she?
“Yes. The hour is late for us all.” She cast one last glance at the sky before walking around the corner of the manor, her steps almost floating.
When she vanished from my sight, I shook my head and tightened my robe. What an odd woman, I thought, heading to the library to secure a book.