20. Henry #3
I scoff. “Doubtful. I need to see my wife-to-be. It has been three days. You can let me into that room or we can call off the wedding.”
Gaven doesn’t so much as blink. “I guess it’s off, then.”
I grind my teeth. “Let me into that fucking room.”
“Afraid you’ll have to go through me, boy?”
I grind my teeth. “I’m no boy.”
Gaven gives me a slow once-over. “I’ve been fighting Drained since before you were a Divine daydream. You’re a child playing at being a man. Men don’t threaten. They act.”
I want to just cut his throat, but I need to show some restraint. I have to play the only card I have left—the one that will tell me if something is actually wrong with her. “We have a well.”
Right now, servants are preparing it. I’m confident this will at least pique their interest, so even if Harlow won’t go with me now, I’m betting she’ll go snooping for it later.
I need to know if Gaven cares more about listening to Harlow or about her well-being. That’s a valuable piece of knowledge, and it costs me nothing.
Gaven’s eyes widen slightly, and his posture relaxes. “What do you mean?”
“We have a well. You know—holy water blessed by the Divine,” I continue, ignoring the irritated look on his face.
“Everyone thinks the Blood Well is the first well. The Carrenwells’ secret house well, that only the high houses are invited to, is the other.
But the first well is actually ours. The Mountain Well snowmelt starts here, then flows south to the Blood Well, and then to Carrenwell House. ”
I watch the realization dawn on him. He wants to argue, or maybe to call it blasphemy, but he cares about Harlow enough that he’s considering letting me in.
“Our wedding ceremonies are vigorous. She’s clearly tough, but I want her to feel up to the task. It’s in my best interest that she’s ready for anything,” I say. “For better or worse, my success is tied to hers.”
I can tell I’ve hit the mark by the look in his eye. He doesn’t trust me, but he believes me when he knows my motivation isn’t magnanimous.
Gaven hesitates, his hand on the doorknob. He taps lightly on the door. When Harlow’s voice beckons him inside, he cracks the door open and slips inside before I can get a look. The lock clicks and I try to bite back my irritation.
I barely have a chance to feel the full heat of my anger before the lock turns again and the door swings open. Gaven waves me inside.
I expected Harlow to be in bed. Instead, Kyrin is perched on the bed, watching Harlow.
She sits in a chair by the balcony doors, sipping a cup of tea in an airy silk dress that’s too thin for this time of year.
Her face looks a bit paler than usual, and her hair is pinned haphazardly on top of her head, wisps of dark hair falling against her delicate neck.
My wolf cocks his head to the side and looks at me.
“Traitor.” I shake my head at him, then turn to Harlow. “Are you well?”
She smiles sweetly. “As well as can be expected—assuming, of course, that the wedding is still on. ”
I’d like to take her over my knee and wipe that cocky smile off her face. Instead, I take a breath.
“The servants indicated that you called for quite a lot of ice with your drinks and I thought perhaps you had a fever.”
Her lips part in surprise. “Perhaps I just like my drinks very cold.” She cocks her head to the side and looks at me like I’m the dumbest man she’s ever met. “It keeps the deep freeze on my cold, murderous heart.”
I hum in agreement. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you are unwell and too proud to take a trip to our family well. It’s normally cold this time of year, but my mother just had several sunstones put in to heat it, so it’s quite comfortable.”
Her spine straightens ever so slightly, her gaze flitting from me to Gaven. The bodyguard gives the barest nod.
“Very well. I know how you men love to show off. Take me to this well.” She extends her hand in a mock imitation of a storybook damsel. I take it and help her to her feet.
We walk down the hall in silence, Gaven on our heels. At the bottom of the stairs, on the main floor, I turn and look at Gaven.
“I’m afraid this is where we leave you.”
The guard frowns, but Harlow cuts off any argument he might make by brushing the slit in her dress aside to reveal the dagger strapped to her pale thigh. “I’ll be fine, Gaven.”
He nods and takes up his rigid stance in the hallway, hands tucked behind his back, watchful gaze fixed on us.
I pull out a blindfold and hold it up to Harlow.
“Surely you’re joking.”
I grin. “Don’t worry, lovely, I’ll stay close so you don’t trip.”
She grumbles as I tie the silk around her eyes. I loop an arm around her and guide her down the hallway through a series of twists and turns until we’re at the entrance to the well.
I lead her down the stairs like I’m stealing her away to some dark underworld where I might get lost too. I hold fast to her waist as we descend and pray to Divine Harvain for luck that this is the thing that will finally get her to let her guard down.