14. Rourk
Chapter fourteen
Rourk
I have to be careful how I lay next to Galene, as I don’t want to risk overstepping or making things any more awkward than they already are. Although our options are limited in the small gap in the rock wall, and it feels like we are laying in a coffin-shaped hole with a rocky ceiling close to our heads.
It’s awkward to press our shoulders against each other, so I lift my arm to curl it around Galene to allow her head to rest on my shoulder.
“Hey,” she says when I move my arm over her.
I give her an innocent look and continue moving, but very slowly. It’s hard to deny that my arm being around her has made the space more comfortable for both of us. Regardless of how inappropriate it feels.
We watch the light slowly fade on the mountain and feel the howling wind picking up. The far-off rumble of thunder echoes in the air.
“I have a question,” I say gently. “But you will not like it. ”
Galene sighs. “No, we will not rub our bodies together for warmth.”
That catches me off guard. “What?”
She looks up at me. “What?”
I give her a bizarre, confused smile. I’m not sure why her mind wandered there.
“No, I…” I take a second to reconfigure my thoughts. “I would like to ask you about your mother. And the Oathlander who killed her...”
She takes a long moment to acknowledge my words. Her voice becomes low and strained. “She was out with my uncle, her brother. They were picking berries in The Greens, before the Wetstones that divide the Wildlands from the Oathlands. She was due to give birth in another two seasons and wanted to go on a foraging trip before she would have to stay home and wait for the baby to come. The Oathlanders… they were dressed in weathered cloaks, like Wildmen. But they were clearly not Wildmen. They attacked and cut my mother down, like an animal.”
“How do you know these details?” I ask, hoping the question doesn’t offend her.
“My uncle had his arm cut off. He was left for dead with my mother. But he managed to return to our village. He… died three days later from an infection.”
“And what did your uncle say about these Oathlanders?”
She keeps her head tilted low so I can’t see her face. “That they wore the uniforms of the Oathlands military beneath their cloaks. He described the man who had slain my mother. The man had a scar on his neck, so was easily identifiable.”
I stop breathing for a moment. “A scar?”
Galene draws a line down her neck with her finger. My heart is pounding hard in my chest. I hope she doesn’t notice.
“My father led a group to infiltrate the Oathlands,” she goes on. “They managed to find out the name of the man. But they were told the man had been struck with an illness and was not accepting visitors.”
Despite the cold, I’ve started to sweat. This all sounds far too familiar. But she can’t be speaking about what I think she is. This can’t be happening.
“You… learned the man’s name?” I ask, my voice sounding hollow. I clear my throat.
“Yes. The man who murdered my mother and unborn brother is named Delton Alacante.”
My breath catches in my throat. It feels like I’ve been dropped from a great distance.
“Are you certain?” I ask, barely able to speak now.
She meets my eyes. “Do you know him?”
Yes. I know my father’s name.
“They said he had been someone close to Queen Moira,” Galene says.
I have to force my voice to remain calm, despite the screaming devastation in my mind. “I know that Delton Alacante did pass from an illness,” I confirm.
“You knew him?” she asks, sounding mistrustful.
“Not really,” I lie. “But, yes, he was known to me.”
I struggle to process what I’m hearing. My father had murdered Galene’s mother? He had slain a pregnant woman in the Wildlands? That can’t be true .
Moira Bearon had taken my father’s name when they wed. After she was murdered by Kingdom assassins, Arthur and I disbanded our royal lineage, and the Oathlands had become a military-led nation. We have gone by our mother’s name of Bearon ever since. My father had become a broken man after his wife died, and he was content to let us break the royal line. I knew his mind had been failing him in his final years, particularly in the lead-up to his illness taking hold of his body.
Could he have slain a Shanti woman in his final year of life? Why would he have done such a thing? I want to tell Galene she must be mistaken, but I can’t reveal what I know.
The sound of heavy rain interrupts my train of thought. Our view of the mountain becomes filled with thick raindrops thudding on the ground. The sparse shrubs around the crevasse sway in the wind. My boots get spattered with wayward raindrops, but at least we know we are safe and covered in here.
Galene shivers against me.
“Here,” I say, and put my hand on her arm to keep her warm.
She flinches away from me and knocks her elbow into the rock. She winces and seethes at me.
“Now, don’t get the wrong idea,” I say, and gently place my hand back on her arm. I shift my body so we’re pressed more together. Her body is covered in goosebumps. There is a distinct muddy smell around us, but I don’t bring that up.
“You’re the one who shouldn’t get the wrong idea,” she says. “You understand? ”
"Yes," I respond. I would only admit it to myself, but it does feel good to have her in my arms.
The rain picks up and a flash of lightning highlights the rocks outside. It’s become a full storm out there. For a while, the only sound is the crashing rain.
Galene stirs beside me. “How did you know those things about me? About when I was younger.”
“Maybe I’m magic, too,” I say. “Or, well… I’ve always been able to read people well.”
“Can you… Leila says she gets a feeling within her, like a vibration, when she hears someone’s thoughts or senses their feelings.”
I smile. “It’s no magic trick.” Then I consider that. “I think.”
She yawns and sleepily nuzzles into me. I can see she is more comfortable around me, but I can’t stop thinking about my father being the one who killed her mother. I can’t tell her, because we’re only just starting not to hate each other and I don’t want to ruin that.
“You should sleep,” I say, noting how tired my voice sounds.
“I can’t sleep while you’re awake,” she says.
“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” she says, and yawns again.
Something howls in the night, sounding very close. Galene flinches and knocks her head on the low ceiling.
She has leaned into me in her fear, and my hand is gripping her side. I become aware of how closely pressed together we are, and how close our faces now are. Her sweet breath and the floral hair scent mix with the mud caked in her hair. Her cheeks are smeared with dried dirt .
I know I should move away from her. We’re better off leaving our hesitant friendship just the way it is. If not for the past, for what my father did to her mother, then for the future. I’m going to be leaving soon, and she’s going to be staying. There’s no use starting something that will undoubtedly end.
But no matter how sure I am that I should pull away from her, I’m even more sure that I can’t. Galene’s always been the one who backs away, and for good reason.
I just don’t have it in me.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We’re safe here. The night has many sounds. You’re… safe.”
I become lost in her captivating blue eyes for a long moment and feel myself swell with arousal. Her full lips look so inviting. The power in this moment between us is like nothing I’ve ever known, and I know she feels it too.
We’ve stripped away our armor and have nothing left but each other. We’re so close. I drift toward her. But there is something pained in her eyes. Something that causes her to hesitate.
I swallow and lick my lips and drift away from her. The moment passes like a breath in the wind.
We finally break eye contact, and she rests her head on my chest. I think it’s so she doesn’t have to look at me anymore, but there is a nice comfort in the way she’s wrapped herself around me now. This is nice. This feels good. I’m surprised at how comfortable we are now, pressed into each other like lovers.
We say nothing more, but we don’t need to.
It’s clear that something has shifted between us.