Chapter 51 You Were Wrong
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
YOU WERE WRONG
ADELINE
A mistake.
“Roane!” I call after him.
He doesn’t turn around and I stare after his tall form as he strides away, vanishing in the gloom beyond the columns. I look down at myself, my bare legs, my pants, my undergarments and shoes in a heap beside me, and my face burns. The fact that he walked away after what we did makes him a bastard.
Unless there’s something I’m missing. What’s going on with him? And why did I let him get close again—to my body, to my heart? He’s struggling with something, it’s pretty obvious, but what?
He’s an enigma, a riddle, and I want to solve him.
Is that all this is? Do I think I have feelings for him because he engages my mind, intrigues it with his mystery?
You know that’s not the answer, I tell myself. Be honest. You’re accusing him of telling lies when you’re not straight with yourself either.
Yeah. That’s not all. I have soft, warm feelings for him, and now… him leaving me like this is sharpening them into something else.
Something hot and unpleasant.
So this world seems to be unstable. He’s worried. I understand that. It would be nice if he shared information and his worries with me, if he made me a part of his life. If he opened up. If he didn’t shut me out every time and left me to run after him.
Is that too much to ask? I’m stuck here with him, and I… damn, I like him. If only he weren’t such an ass sometimes. I like him, and I want him, I want to have his arms around me again, his lips on mine, I want his attention, his desire, his fondness, his worry focused on me.
But he considers me a mistake.
Curled up in the nest, I cat-nap, waking up time and again to the building shaking, though the tremors are less frequent now. Roane’s journal rests beside me, but I haven’t glanced inside again.
I rub my eyes and sigh.
“Can’t sleep?” Olm appears beside me, startling me. He’s sitting on top of the covers, arms looped around his knees. “Shall I sing you a lullaby?”
His book is on my other side and I reach out to pat it. “You could tell me a story. Your story, perhaps.”
“You never give up, do you?” He sighs.
“Should I give up?”
“That’s not what I said.”
I study his boyish face, the fall of pale hair over his brow, the hand he has draped over a folded knee. “It’s what you meant.”
“I am… reluctant to share my story,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, I noticed. Did you do something that might change the way I see you? Have you committed a crime? Kicked any puppies?”
He looks puzzled. “I don’t kick puppies.”
“Good to know.” I yawn and pile more furs on top of me. “What about kittens?”
“Are you joking? You’re joking, right?”
I snort. “Just checking. I don’t even know your world. Maybe you don’t even have puppies and kittens in it.”
“We do.”
“Okay. What about horses, wildcats, dragons—”
“I come from your world,” he snaps. “So we have similar experiences to draw from.”
“Oh.” I sit up, suddenly wide awake. “Really? And do you have any family?”
“Yes. I have a sister and an aunt, but my parents have passed.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I say softly. “What’s your sister called?”
A frown mars his brow. “Wait, is this…? Are you trying to get information out of me so you can guess which is my story?”
“I wasn’t,” I admit, “but you sure are suspicious of my motives. I’m the one who didn’t give you up, remember?”
“Because you think I’m a good person,” he whispers.
“Aren’t you? You need to come clean, Olm. Tell me the truth.”
“I don’t think the truth is as amazing a thing as you believe it to be,” he says softly and shimmers, starting to fade. “Some lies make us happier.”
“Damn, Olm, no…”
But then he’s gone, too.
Further sleep eludes me, so I give in and grab the journal. Burrowed under the covers, I leaf through it some more. If Roane won’t give me the answers I seek, that’s on him. I’ll search these pages for clues.
He shouldn’t have left his journal alone with a thief.
He shouldn’t have left after touching me the way he did.
‘Day Twenty-Two-Thousand of my Guardianship: the Book of Areon whispers to me. Areon himself speaks in my ear, demanding I open the book and release him from its pages. He says if I leave him in the story, he’ll die, that I can save him, but we all know stories can’t change.
What if I could do it, though? What if I could save him? ’
I frown. Areon wanted to escape his story?
Finally, a piece of the puzzle drops into place. This bit has to be why Roane is so suspicious of Olm. He was tempted himself by a book character once, and none other but Areon himself. He knows how hard it is to resist, but then how come I’ve resisted Olm for so long?
I have, haven’t I? I haven’t taken him to the palace, yet I haven’t had him bound and chained, either. Could Roane be right? Has Olm used magic to influence my judgment?
‘Day Twenty-Five-Thousand of my Guardianship: I had a visitor today. My favorite cousin trekked up here to give me family news and bring delicacies from the manor. He is like a brother to me and the joy that flooded my heart was unexpected and intense, while at the same time cutting me deeply.
I was getting used to my solitude. Built a wall around my mind to protect my sanity.
Spending a few days with a beloved person tore that wall down as easily as if it were made of paper.
He spent four days here, regaling me with stories of our family, the pranks the little ones got up to and my aunt’s ire.
After that, I waved him goodbye and wept, feeling more alone than ever. ’
Right… I lift my gaze from the pages. He had visitors. They could come and go. It confirms what Olm told me. The gates used to be open. This world didn’t use to be so closed off and isolated.
This journal is both entertaining and sad, distracting me from the insanity that has become my life since I arrived here—even more so over these past two days.
Seeing Ardruna and Talton dead, seeing them return to life, finding out they are book characters…
My mind shies away from these facts, needing time to adapt, curl around them and embrace them, accept them as real.
It’s so much easier to lose myself in a story, like I always do, and follow Ersil’s adventures over the many years he spent here.
Until he stopped writing, about the time he pulled Ardruna and Talton out of a book and into his life.
Was that the deciding factor? Why would he stop writing?
Did his magic fail him and he stopped recording his life?
Was he too busy to make the time? Was he happy enough that he didn’t feel the need?
But what about the rules that say a guardian has to keep a log?
A noise breaks through my thoughts. A male voice.
“Roane!” I set the journal aside, my heart pounding both in excitement and anxiety. His last words were ominous, but I hope he’s calmer now and we can talk.
The memory of what we did earlier sends another wave of heat through me, and I throb pleasantly where he touched me and licked me between my legs.
Embarrassment tries to rear its ugly head, but I’ve always found society to be too prohibitive.
I’m an adult, I have a right to my pleasure, and what’s more, this is as far away from the capital’s restrictions as I could ever hope to get.
But then I hear a female voice, too.
Ardruna! She’s back. That’s great. A smile tugs on my lips as a weight lifts off my chest. I’m happy for him. I hope Talton is back, too.
As they approach, talking together, I get up and run my fingers through my hair.
Gods, I need to bathe. I reek. I wish I had a bar of herbal soap, like the ones Naida makes, to wash myself with.
Lavender and rose. Thyme and lemon. I can almost feel the weight of the soap bar in my hand, hear the water splashing in the basin where I washed my hair and Naida humming a song in the background.
Pushing away the weight of longing the memory brings, I straighten my clothes. The voices are very close now and I walk behind the nearest column, intending to intercept them as they arrive.
Now I can hear them clearly and… I wish I didn’t.
I hear what is unmistakably Roane’s voice, saying, “I was right the first time, she’s a liability. And bad luck. Look at all the monsters I’ve had to fight to keep her alive.”
I freeze.
Ardruna growls softly. “What are you saying, Ro? I thought you liked her.”
“You were wrong.”