CHAPTER FORTY #3
Evylin couldn’t help smiling. “Ah, yes. You have a heart deserving of warfare.”
They shared a soft, low laugh.
“Does Jonn make you feel that way?” Ilain asked, her gaze alight with unexpected eagerness. “Does he make you feel prized? As though he would fight an entire nation to win your heart?”
Smile gone, Evylin averted her gaze. She stared into the fire, telling herself the smoke was what caused her vision to blur. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, he does.”
“I thought so,” Ilain said. “He’s always so aware of you. It’s as though you give him purpose.”
Evylin didn’t like the turn of the conversation. She’d spoken to Ilain to avoid thinking of her husband, not to dwell upon his bountiful merits.
Clearing her throat quietly, Evylin attempted to deflect. “I have to say,” she quipped lightly, “there is another man who made me feel even more sought after.”
Ilain’s nose wrinkled. “Truly?”
“Mm. No man’s attention could hope to match that of Prince Ephren’s.”
Ilain snorted. “Caspar?”
Evylin’s gaze snapped to hers. “You know the crown prince of Ephria by name?”
“Oh, indeed,” she said, surveying her glittering rings haughtily. “He didn’t take much to me, though. I think I made him nervous.”
“I think you make most men nervous.”
Ilain sighed dramatically. “Such is my lot. But then, I would say the same of you, and you found Jonn, so perhaps there’s hope for me yet.”
The return to Deckard lodged a lump in Evylin’s throat. Her reaction agitated her even more than Ilain’s incessant need to bring him up. “It’s not like that between us, Ilain,” she said firmly. “I know you weren’t there, but—”
“But you told the others that you and Jonn married for convenience,” Ilain said, completing the recounting for her.
Evylin gaped at her. “How did you—?”
“Auden left me a note.”
“Oh.”
“Mm-hm. I’m aware of your nonsensical fabrication,” she said with a hint of irritation. “And I understand that you’re grieving. What I’m confused by is your seeming ignorance of how deeply you two love one another.”
“We don’t—” Evylin interrupted herself this time. She took a stuttering breath, her body trembling in the cold breeze of the night. “It isn’t like that.”
“It is,” Ilain said flatly. “Why deny it?”
“I don’t love him,” Evylin whispered vehemently.
“Of course, you do. We can all see it.”
“I don’t.”
“You can’t convince me of that,” Ilain hissed sharply.
Evylin whirled to face her. “I asked Jonn for an annulment,” she admitted. “Do you believe me now?”
Ilain stared at her, emotionless. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t think I understood you.”
Evylin held her steady glare. “I think you did.”
The woman’s mouth dropped open. “Why would you do that? Hold on.” She held up a hand. “Can you do that? I’m not familiar with Ephrian laws, but in Wauld, an annulment is only possible if the marriage isn’t consummated.”
“It’s the same in Ephria.”
Ilain’s face contorted in bafflement. “You haven’t—?”
“No.”
“Well,” Ilain sat back, staring into the night wide-eyed, “put me on a mountain and call me a nanny. I could have sworn . . .” She blew out a bemused breath and turned back to Evylin. “Regardless, why would you want to annul your marriage?”
Evylin drew her knees tighter to her chest. “Because I have to.”
“Nonsense. There are only two reasons that would be necessary. First, if he were a deplorable wretch. And as this is Colonel Jonn Deckard we’re discussing, that’s out of the question. Second would be if you didn’t love him.”
She raised her hand when Evylin began to protest. “You’re lying to the wrong person, Evylin.”
“Why won’t you believe me?” Evylin asked, incredulous.
Ilain wore a firm, perturbed expression.
“I am forty-three,” she whispered sharply.
“I have spent my entire life preparing to help lead a rebellion to success and to take my place in its government afterward. Throughout all that time, I have waited, hoping to find a Warrior who loves me and whom I love in return.”
Ilain’s fingers curled around her skirt as she leaned closer to Evylin.
“I’m looking for one in more than a million,” she said.
“And by some miracle, you found that. You found your perfect match, a man who’s caring, devoted, loving, and a bloody Mage.
It’s as though he were designed for you.
So don’t you dare tell me you don’t love him.
Because you two are the only hope I have left. ”
A halting breath slipped out of Evylin. She didn’t know what to say. A part of her latched onto Ilain’s words, heartened by the thought of Deckard being her one-in-a-million match. The other part recoiled, shrinking back like a startled wolf, creeping back into its dark den.
Evylin felt sympathy for Ilain. Their predicament was similar, yes. Yet, it was drastically different in so many other ways.
“I’m sorry,” Evylin said, her words entirely genuine. “But you don’t understand.”
“Then please,” Ilain said, her voice taut, “enlighten me.”
Meeting Ilain’s fierce jade green gaze, Evylin chewed on her lip.
Never before had she considered explaining herself.
Who could begin to understand the pain that lived in her body, tearing every inch of her heart to pieces?
How could she describe the devastation that remained in the wake of her loss?
Who would she trust with such vulnerability?
But Evylin was desperate. She’d gone so long without relief, holding back the tide of sorrow and agony that threatened to drown her.
Every joke, every sarcastic remark hid the brokenness she felt.
She wasn’t winning the battle with the tide any longer.
She was drowning, and she needed someone to grab her hand and pull her back to the surface for a breath of air.
“I was thirteen,” Evylin whispered. “And he left me.”
Ilain’s fierce expression softened, her lips parting in surprise.
Evylin didn’t bother fighting the tears. Let them come, she thought. Let Ilain see the damage left on her soul, the scars she bore. Let the woman know why Evylin couldn’t withstand the suffering of another wound upon her heart.
“You have Auden,” Evylin said, voice like a wraith, insubstantial and haunting. “I had Ryen.”
“Your brother?” Ilain asked gently.
Evylin’s head gave the smallest shake. “In all but parentage. He was Hewitt’s son.”
A fresh understanding dawned in Ilain’s gaze.
“Ryen was like the sun,” Evylin said with a fractured smile.
She could feel the tears on her face, but she wasn’t sure when they’d first fallen.
“He was clever and funny, and he brought life everywhere he went. I remember . . . I remember days when I felt lonely or left out because the other girls didn’t like me.
Ryen would always say, ‘They don’t know what they’re missing, Kit. ’”
Evylin smiled, remembering the nickname. “He called me Kit because I wrinkled my nose whenever I was annoyed, like a baby badger, he claimed.” She let out a thin laugh at the thought. Then she furrowed her brow. “I don’t know if I do that anymore.”
Ilain shook her head. “I haven’t noticed.”
“Hm.” Evylin stared at her hands. “Anyway, Ryen was always there. We would go out and play in the fields surrounding the village, and he would invent all these wonderful adventures. We’d fight off dragons or save a princess.
Sometimes, we’d play in the creek, pretending to sail across the sea. He wanted to be a pirate.”
They shared a smile.
Evylin took a deep breath. “Ryen was everything. We had so many dreams together, so many . . . plans. We were going to explore the whole world.”
Ilain didn’t bother to ask what happened. She simply took Evylin’s hand in hers, compassion in her gaze.
“And then he died,” Evylin murmured. The words tasted bland and stale, like she’d held them in too long and now they’d lost their life too.
Ilain scooted closer so that their shoulders were touching. She linked arms with Evylin, drawing her close. It reminded Evylin of her sisters and how they comforted one another. She allowed herself to lean into Ilain, grateful for the woman’s presence.
“I didn’t want to live after that,” Evylin admitted. “I intended to die too. But then Hewitt came home, and . . . we became each other’s reason to go on. He would live for me and I for him. And somehow, we found a way to be happy together.”
She pressed her lips together, knowing that she’d destroyed that happiness. “But I’d made a promise to Ryen,” she confessed. “I wouldn’t let his dream die in Whickam Village. I would do all we’d ever planned, keeping him alive by living out our adventures. No matter the cost.”
Ilain rested her head on Evylin’s shoulder, both of them staring at the fire while they were meant to be watching the forest.
Evylin rubbed the back of her sleeve against her nose and tear-stained cheeks. “I can’t love Jonn,” she whispered finally. “Because when Hewitt died, my heart died with him. Now, I have no love left to give.”
For a long moment, they were silent. Ilain’s warmth seeped into Evylin, their sides pressed together.
Evylin’s thoughts drifted back to Whickam Village and the sisters she’d left there.
Did her family miss her? Had they learned of Hewitt’s death?
Were they grieving too? Last she knew, Euna’s husband hadn’t written in five months.
A near-assurance of his death. Had the army confirmed it, leaving her eldest sister a widow?
And what about Dolia? She was engaged when Evylin left.
Had the wedding taken place? She’d missed so much and for what?
Ilain sighed, bringing Evylin back to the Waulden forest. “I must say,” she whispered gently, “I don’t agree.”
They both shifted, straightening to look at one another. Evylin furrowed her brow as Ilain smirked. “I’d venture to say that you love all of us,” the highlady noted. “Thom, Ethenn, Rafferty. Even Auden and me.”
Evylin sucked in her bottom lip.
“But I won’t force you to admit it,” Ilain said with a wink. Then she reached up and wiped the last tear from Evylin’s face. “Now, shall I tell you a secret?”