Caspian
Keira was gone.
He did not get up.
The door opened anyway. Lionel entered, one of the serving girls carrying a breakfast tray behind him. “Good morning, my lord.”
“Many of your guests are preparing to journey home now that the Holly Festival is at a close. They do not wish to leave without offering their thanks to the host.”
Had it only been the night before that Keira had been dancing in his arms? Making the town square bloom around them with her magic? Lying beside him? It felt like a dream that was even now slipping away.
“Tell them I am unwell and wish them to be safely on their way,” Caspian said. It was impolite not to see them off, but he wasn’t sure he could find it within himself to care at the moment.
Lionel nodded. “Lord Redfield is also requesting an audience. Should I tell him the same?”
Caspian curled his fists tight against the desire to reject every responsibility that would seek to draw him from the shallow comforts of his bed. “No. I will see him this afternoon.”
“I will tell him to expect you then, sir. You should also know that your guest was not in her room this morning when they came to bring her breakfast. I had thought that perhaps she was-” Lionel stopped himself before making any insinuations. “It seems she is not here.”
“No, she is not,” Caspian said, pulling himself out of bed and shoving his arms into his robe.
“Will she be returning, sir?”
Caspian shook his head, lips stiff. “No.”
Lionel bowed slightly, though Caspian could read him well enough to see a touch of surprise in his features. “I’ll have the room cleaned then.”
A selfish part of him wanted to say no, didn’t want to erase the evidence that Keira had been here. But he did not protest. It was time to move on.
Caspian stewed in his misery well into the morning, hoping that by the time he emerged his thoughts would be less chaotic, the way forward more clear.
However, trying to imagine a future without Keira in it…
He had lived that life these past three years.
Though they had not been entirely miserable, Keira’s return had only shown him the vacuum in his life that was meant for her.
Now that she was gone, and for good, he felt that cavity like an open wound.
At midday, Caspian dressed numbly in the first clothes he touched. The colors seemed duller, the air staler, thinner even, as if she had taken some of it with her. Her absence was tangible and taunting as his heart beat to the horrible truth. Keira’s gone. She’s not coming back.
As Caspian moved through the halls, they were emptier than they had been in days.
He supposed his guests had managed to see themselves out despite his lapse in hospitality.
The few servants he passed offered him a wide berth, suggesting he wasn’t masking his ill temper as well as he thought.
He’d never been gifted at concealing these things.
Though he supposed it was equally likely the rumors had spread. He’d certainly given them enough time.
In any case, he ignored them forcefully as he cut through the great hall. There was only one matter on his mind, the only burden that he could not postpone. His meeting with Lord Redfield. The arrangement must be settled, and today.
“Caspian!” A familiar, though unexpected voice called out to him.
The eagerness in Florian’s tone caused him to stop, a choice Caspian instantly regretted.
He closed the distance between them in easy strides. “A very good morning to you, m’lord.” Florian offered him a teasingly over flourished bow.
Caspian gritted his teeth. Had Keira sent him? Why him?
“I can see you are very busy being lordly this morning,” Florian recovered Caspian’s lack of manners quickly.
“Might I only ask where Keira is hidden away? I’ve asked your retinue and cannot get a straight answer from the lot of them.
I assumed it was a matter of discretion, but seeing as you’re out and about, and very late I might add-”
“She’s gone.” Caspian interrupted him, unable to listen to him speak for another second.
Puzzlement disarmed the rogue’s charm. “Gone where?”
“I assume you would know better than I,” Caspian said, taking up his pace again.
Florian matched him. “Is everything alright? Has something happened?”
Caspian halted, rounding on the smaller man. “She’s gone, and she’s not coming back,” he said forcefully, finally. That’s all there was to be said.
“I see. Pardon me, my lord,” he said slowly. There was no irony or coy meaning behind that title. As if to worsen the effect, Florian went into a slow courtly bow before excusing himself.
Shame coiled around his gut. He’d lashed out like a wounded dog and bitten whoever came closest. Caspian pushed his hand through his hair and carried on. He just had to see this through and then… and then maybe he could tune out the world for a few more hours.
His thoughts were still heavy in his mind as Caspian came into the parlor where Lord Redfield was waiting.
Trays of food were already arranged, though seemingly untouched.
Lord Redfield stood as he entered and smiled at him, perhaps overly sweetly.
No doubt he had heard the rumors as well. Why wouldn’t he be pleased?
“Lord Caspian, please sit. I was concerned when I heard you were feeling unwell this morning. I am ever so glad you managed to keep our appointment.”
They sat in opposing armchairs. On the small table between them, a stack of papers was neatly arranged beside an expectant quill.
“But now that you’re here, I think it would be best for all parties concerned if we were plain about the nature of this meeting,” Lord Redfield went on.
“My sister is a highly eligible lady. If she has fallen from your considerations, I do her no favors as a brother, or head of the Redfield family, by keeping her here.”
“Of course,” Caspian agreed.
“So then tell me, lord to lord. Shall I be toasting to a betrothal, or packing my things?”
It was time to move on. If he kept hanging on to hope, it would kill him. He could feel it now, threatening to pull him under once more. And to think only hours ago he had thought Fate would lead him down a different path entirely…
“I would be honored to accept your sister’s hand,” Caspian said.
Lord Redfield smiled. “Very well then, why don’t I pour us a toast while you do the honors of making things official?”
Caspian took the papers from the table and dipped the quill into the ink.
His hand stilled over the parchment. Refusal reared within him, as if he were moving to make a mortal blow.
It was time to move on. Caspian stamped the instinct down.
This was the only way to heal. He’d known this before Keira returned.
It had always been meant to end this way.
Perhaps even the Fate knew that seeing her once more…
losing her once more, was what he needed.
Caspian made his mark carefully.
“Splendid.” Victor handed him a glass of sparkling wine, lifting his own. “Let us drink then, to a wedding.”