Chapter Seventeen #2
But that brought me back to the same point: he could’ve chosen nearly anyone.
Stefan would’ve been willing, not to put too fine a point on it, to fuck nearly anyone.
Especially if they needed it to survive a god-inflicted curse, as I now knew.
My wild fears that he’d leave me to die in agony had been so absurd, in retrospect, now that I’d glimpsed my husband’s real character.
Presumably Lord Ettori knew Stefan to be an honorable man.
He’d obviously wanted to exert that leverage in this sham of a marriage, which meant a dawn mage…
but while we weren’t common, we also weren’t impossible to find outside of a distant island abbey.
Stefan wouldn’t have kissed nearly anyone like that, would he? Or done some of those other things with his mouth…
It took a focused breathing exercise and the recitation of a long prayer begging Ennolu’s grace to force my cock down again. Thankfully Aldrich wasn’t in the room, having come to check on me and then gone downstairs again to bring me a pot of tea.
Yes, damn it, Stefan would have with nearly anyone, and that thought had a greater dampening effect on my libido than any number of prayers.
I paced out onto the balcony, letting the soft spring breeze wash over me and gazing down at the riotous flowers coming into bloom in the garden below.
If you had to own half of someone’s earthly possessions, you could do worse than Stefan’s.
Mine, for example. Stefan now owned one of my two cassocks, just in case he wanted to give shocking and horrifying his parents another go.
Otherwise, I didn’t own anything at all except for whatever tiny bits and pieces I might inherit, as the oldest child, from the remnants of my father’s possessions left after Duke Treviso’s confiscations.
And if I hadn’t married, those bits and pieces would’ve gone to my sister, anyway.
At sixteen, she wouldn’t be fully of age, but she’d have been legally my family’s presumptive heir if I’d stayed in the abbey, where we gave up all wealth and possessions to devote our lives to Ennolu.
My hands clenched around the balcony railing.
If I hadn’t married when I had…and the marriage wouldn’t have been fully legal without the consummation.
My hypothetical wealth and possessions had never occupied my mind much. My mother had been, and remained, fully and responsibly in control of the family’s affairs. Besides, it had been my impression that my family had been left with almost nothing besides my mother’s dowry.
But who would be in a better position to know otherwise than Duke Treviso’s highest court official, who’d seen every document, witnessed every execution, presided over every trial?
And not only to know otherwise, but to hide what he knew—possibly because it should’ve gone to the duke’s coffers when taken from my family, and he wanted it for himself.
Some piece of property, some title, some…
what? Any speculation would be futile, although I couldn’t help spinning fantastic visions of chests of gold and jewels veiled under dire magic in perilous mountain caverns.
It couldn’t be anything like that, though, because he’d have been able to melt it down or sell it without anyone being the wiser.
So he’d concealed some property or large, valuable object that had belonged to my family. And then he’d presumably been stuck: he couldn’t profit from it without revealing its existence.
Unless he found a way to make it legally his family’s possession—which he had now, through threats and blackmail and poisoning and manipulation, successfully done.
His family’s…Stefan’s.
Stefan, who had gone along with this marriage despite his dislike for his father and his family’s manipulations.
Stefan knew. He had to. The sunny garden narrowed and darkened, as if I were seeing it through a long, wavering tunnel. My chest had gone painfully tight, my breath rasping.
Whatever it was, Stefan knew. And every time he’d shown some semblance of concern for my health or my happiness, it’d been just that: a pretense.
A game. His guilt, at least, I could believe was genuine.
Not that it did me the slightest bit of good.
If he’d been completely without a conscience, it would’ve hurt so much less to be used this way.
He could be a decent man if he wanted—but he hadn’t bothered on my account.
Had he known the wine was poisoned? Had he been in on that plan, too, pretending to be unwilling to bed me under those awful circumstances but secretly relieved it’d worked? Get used to the idea that we’ll need to make it real sooner rather than later, he’d said. My patience isn’t infinite.
No, I couldn’t believe it. Stefan couldn’t be so cruel. If I believed it, it’d kill me.
Even without that extra betrayal, the reality left me wishing I could sink into the floor, cover my eyes, curl up into a ball so tightly that I’d disappear completely.
A bird rustled in the vines hanging over my balcony, flittering its wings and letting out a soft little cheep.
And then it rustled again and flew away in a flurry of tiny feathers, vanishing into the garden.
The bird didn’t care about anything but its sunny, peaceful haven, a tree with fragrant blossoms and a fountain to drink out of and preen in.
Stefan’s home could be a refuge for me, too, if I let go of any interest in Lord Ettori’s plans, my family’s legacy, and my father’s lost inheritance, not to mention my self-respect.
But I couldn’t. And until I learned what I’d traded away, unknowingly, for half this house and garden and all the luxuries they contained, I wouldn’t rest. It had to be something that Stefan and his father both thought was valuable enough to justify their lies and blackmail and manipulation.
Stefan’s guilt might be powerful enough to force a confession out of him, if I confronted him directly.
But I couldn’t count on it. I needed leverage of my own.
Lord Ettori had used a threat against my sister; Stefan had power over me simply by virtue of being my husband.
They’d brought me from my abbey on the theory that my youth and sheltered upbringing would make me easily led and controlled.
That I’d be na?ve, and have no idea at all how to fight back.
Well, they’d been right—to a point. I’d come here na?ve and afraid. But I’d always been a quick learner. Both Lord Ettori and Stefan had shown me how to lie and how to threaten, and my stunt with the cassock, as accidentally effective as it had been, had taught me how to use what I had to hand.
The door opened behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and found Aldrich laying the tea.
“I’ll drink that while I dress,” I said, returning from the balcony. “Set out whatever’s appropriate to wear on a formal visit during the day, order the carriage, and do it quickly.”
“Where are you going, my lord? I’d thought you were staying in today after all.”
“The Great Temple of Ennolu by the palace. To say my thanks for my marriage.” The lie tasted like ashes. The tea didn’t do anything to wash it away.