Chapter 25 #2
“I speak what I mean.”
I nodded. “But you may mean something far different from what I or my brother understood from your words.”
“As you don’t wish me to assume you are lying merely because you can, please don’t assume I’m twisting my words to addle your senses simply because I can. I meant what I said. I do not and will not hide my care of you, except for what your society and your future demands I do.”
My romantic heart thrummed in my chest. I wanted to believe him, and I did to some extent, but I remembered in the library when he’d told me that he couldn’t give me everything that I wanted.
And what I wanted was his ring on my finger and his marks upon my skin to forever bind us together.
I never wished to be away from him, and yet, that wasn’t a possibility.
I took a deep breath. Abnus cared, and that was what mattered.
Glancing at Sevrin and Georgie, who were outpacing us, I reached for Abnus and he leaned frightfully to the side. His horse made a sound of protest but didn’t move. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, then pulled away.
“Thank you,” I said.
The slight quirk danced at the corner of his mouth, and my pulse quickened at the sight. More and more, I was catching a glimpse of that elusive smile.
“You’re quite welcome, Oren.”
I started after my brother and Georgie. “Speaking of my future,” I said, though I was still unsure of what that had to do with his care. “I’m thinking of my plans.”
“Indeed?” he asked, voice growing slightly louder than normal. His hand also gripped the reins, but he didn’t turn to look at me.
“I’m contemplating what to do after school.”
“After school,” he repeated slowly.
“Yes. I shall need a profession.”
“And what profession would you like?” Abnus asked.
Husband was the answer I wanted to give, but I did not. “I’m unsure. I was raised to care for an estate, but now, that’s not possible. Well, my own estate is not possible. I suppose I could manage another person’s estate.”
“That would keep you from Sídhetír, wouldn’t it?”
“Perhaps.” There were a few country estates here that belonged to people of distinction, barring Byrne Manor. I could apply to any of those positions, should they be hiring. “But an estate manager is perhaps more time consuming and formal than I want.”
Abnus and I could never have a formal—or immoral depending on your religious persuasion—relationship if I managed someone’s estate.
I would lose my employment quite fast. But then again, the same was to be said for most professions.
Oh, if we kept our affair quiet and in the shadows, any job I had would be safe, but was I content to forever hide my relationship with him?
“Wouldn’t any job pose the same issues?” he asked.
“I suppose you’re correct. Maybe if I go into the law and become a solicitor, I can then work for my brothers, offering them advice and going over their contracts and such.”
“That would keep you in Sídhetír,” Abnus remarked, his grip loosening. “But is that something you desire?”
I sighed. “Yes, I think so. At least at the moment. I do long to leave because I never have, and yet, this is home. Is it normal to want to fly and yet have somewhere to nest?”
A breathy chuckle escaped his lips, and I swore my heart stopped within the confines of my chest. He said, “I fear that I’m not to be consulted on what’s ‘normal’ in regards to humans, but the emotion is sound from where I sit.
It seems reasonable that you wish to wander while still having a home to return to. ”
I smiled at him. “Good, because I wish to venture out, but still be able to return. Though becoming a solicitor would require more schooling and an internship in town, and there is no guarantee that my brothers would even hire me.”
“I don’t believe them hiring you would be the issue,” he remarked, though his voice had gone hard.
“Then what is the issue?”
“What do you mean?”
Gesturing to the death grip he had on the reins, I said, “You don’t seem alright.”
His eyes met mine, and a warmth grew in my gut from the contact. “The issue is that I will miss you. Four years is long, but more is even longer.”
“Well, that’s how time works,” I said stupidly as my brain melted into a puddle. He would miss me? He would miss me?
“Indeed.”
All conversation ceased because we were passing the church grounds.
Even from here, I could see the devastation from the broken headstones and the ripped up earth.
The dead had clawed their way out of their graves, and it hadn’t been peacefully done.
No, it appeared as if a violent battle had taken place and scarred the land.
Eilis Duffy stepped out from the shadow of the elm tree, bony hand wrapped around his twisted cane, and glared at us.
I doffed my hat, as did Sevrin and Georgie, and his expression didn’t alter.
The man’s gaunt features harshened, and his sunken eyes appeared like hollow pits as he watched us go.
He’d never liked us since Nevan, Neil, Aidan, and I had gotten drunk on sacramental wine, but this was more extreme than usual.
“You’ll be the death of us, I tell you,” a croaky voice shouted.
I turned and Eilis was pointing at me with his gnarled finger, exposing the protruding bones of his wrists.
“What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I doubted he heard.
The old man didn’t repeat his words but rather slunk back to the shadow of the tree.
“Don’t mind him, Oren,” Sevrin said, appearing at my side. “He is a miserable old man.”
Abnus glared at where Mr. Duffy had disappeared as frost gathered on his skin.
I gently brushed his arm and gave him a smile that I didn’t feel like making, but it appeared to be enough, because he calmed enough that any trace of frost vanished.
He was much more inclined to use his magic than Cethin.
I’d only seen Cethin unleash his magic a handful of times, whereas Abnus was prone to use it at the drop of a hat.
The difference in the cousins was interesting to say the least.
Our horses’ hooves crunched on the snow as we headed toward the ruins.
Everyone seemed to put Ellis’s words out of their heads, but I couldn’t help but look back as some instinct pulled on me and my stomach lurched.
The shadows moved around the tree, and I swore I saw a beckoning skeletal hand, but when I blinked, the apparition was gone.
However, the curling sensation in my stomach remained.
The ruins weren’t that impressive. I’d never had the luxury of traveling to the truly great castles left behind from another age, because of my supposed tie to Sídhetír.
This castle, or the remnants of what was once a castle, was where Rhett had lived.
It had been deemed unlivable by one of my ancestors, not to mention its close proximity to the woods, and so he’d built Byrne Manor.
And yet, for being little more than a pile of rocks and the remnants of the great hall, it had a certain charm with its gray stones, leaning tower, and crumbling architecture.
As we dismounted, Georgie grumbled and swore under their breath. Sevrin shook his head as he secured the horses. “Georgie and I will find some wood to start a fire. If memory serves, the fireplace is still intact enough, and we’ll need the warmth.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “And how, pray tell, do you know that the fireplace and flues are still working?”
He gave me a smirk. “To speak of it would put a blush on your fair cheeks.” Sevrin glanced at Abnus. “Though perhaps not anymore.”
Heat rushed to my face at the implication that wasn’t too far from the truth. Yes, we hadn’t been discreet as my brother had noted. It also didn’t help that his room abutted mine.
Sevrin laughed, nudging my shoulder with his fist. “And there is the blush, Oren.”
I cleared my throat. “Be careful.”
“We will,” he said, voice turning serious. “I have my pistols and Georgie is just as well equipped.”
They nodded. “Anything would be foolish to attack me with the foul mood I’m sporting.”
I glanced at Abnus. I was perfectly safe; perhaps he should go with them.
As if he read my very thoughts, he said, “I will not leave you.”
“Nor do you need to,” Sevrin replied. “Georgie and I will be perfectly fine, and I trust that you’ll keep Oren safe, Lord Abnus.”
“I have said as much already,” Abnus replied, his voice , but I detected a flat hint of annoyance.
Like the romantic fool that I was, my heart swelled at the prospect of Abnus wishing to care for me and being annoyed that someone would question his ability to do so.
My brother and Georgie left to scrounge up some wood while Abnus and I ventured into what was left of the castle.
The great hall spoke of the grandeur that once was here but had been stolen by time.
A raised dais with a grand chair that was far too new to be from Rhett’s time.
Tattered flags with the Byrne family coat of arms on the wall.
The floor that once would’ve been rushes.
I could almost see it. Two massive fireplaces roaring with flames, smoke filling the room as some of it escaped through the flues.
The rushes of hay to trap the heat and hide the bones from dinner.
The tables filled with food and surrounded by people.
Laughter mixing in with a minstrel in the corner.
All the while, Rhett, who looked like Aidan in my mind’s eye, purveyed over his people.
“Oren,” Abnus said, drawing me out of my romantic dream.
It was easy to think of the grandeur of the past while romanticizing what hadn’t always been pleasant. The smell alone would’ve been near unbearable, but still, I didn’t want to think on the truth, but rather think of this castle at its best.
“Oren,” Abnus repeated.
“Yes?”
“Are you well?”
“Indeed,” I said, pulling off my gloves and tucking them into my coat pocket.
My hat followed next, and I placed it on an end table near one of the fireplaces.
It seemed from the plush rug, pillows, chair, and conveniently placed table that at least one of my brothers had made use of the great hall before.
Abnus curled his arms about my waist, and I leaned back into his embrace with a long sigh. Why couldn’t life always be this perfect?
“I have been here before,” Abnus commented.
“You have?”
“It was after the contract was forged and after Rhett’s passing. I met Rhett’s grandson, Edmund. He was sitting just there.” He pointed at the great chair on the dais. “Though the seat and flags were different. A thick layer of hay lay upon the floor and two tables ran the length of the hall.”
My heart stuttered at the thought of how old Abnus was. Logically, I knew his age to be great, as Aidan had said Cethin was ancient, and Abnus was only younger by a handful of years. But to think of him meeting Lord Edmund Byrne was hard to cogitate.
“Why were you here?” I asked.
“It was the transition of power from Ragnall to Edmund, and I was the representative for the Night Court, as I have always been.”
Once again, I swallowed the sudden feelings. Abnus had met all of my predecessors since the contract was formed, except for Rhett.
“Did you care for Edmund?” I asked, unable to stop myself. Had he been like this with any of my family before?
Abnus kissed my neck before he whispered, “What horrid things must you be thinking of to make your sweet voice turn so harsh?” He turned me to face him and cupped my cheeks.
“Oren, I did not care about Edmund or anyone else before you as I care about you. Nor have I fucked any of your predecessors. I cannot claim that no distant relative of yours hasn’t been in my bed, because the Byrne line is generous in size, but I can say that I didn’t form attachments to any of those who came before you, nor have I slept with any who I negotiated with. ”
It wasn’t right to be jealous of anyone Abnus had been with before me, but then again, none of this was rational. If I had been a rational creature, I would’ve married Miss. Quirke and been done with it.
Instead, I stood here in the cold, heart in my throat, staring at an ancient fae that I couldn’t have, but so desperately wanted.
No. None of this was rational, and I dared to say, I didn’t want it to be. I wanted to remain as irrational as possible so that I would stay right beside Abnus where I belonged.