Chapter 39 #2
We continue with this exercise for hours, until I feel like I’ve been shoved from the edge of a cliff and only barely prevented every bone in my body from breaking. I know magic has a cost, but I didn’t know it could feel like this.
After I drag myself to his room, I give Anya a quick update before falling asleep in the chair next to her, still in my clothes.
It continues like this for days. Magic in the barn every morning, time with Anya in the afternoon. Thankfully, I adjust, and each day, I recover more quickly. Though, I still take at least a short nap.
Within a few days, Anya is the one tucking me into bed while she entertains herself in the room. The scratches on her face are healing slowly, but Matron Lara says that’s normal for a wound from something with so much magic.
When I approach the barn at the end of the week, voices float out to greet me. One is clearly Caiden, but I don’t recognize the other. My brow furrows. It’s always been a private lesson. Who else is here with Caiden?
Instead of announcing my arrival, I tiptoe to the side of the barn, then find one of the smaller holes to look through, careful to stay behind a solid enough part of the wall that I’m hidden from view.
I can see Caiden clearly, but the other figure has their back to me and is partially blocked by a pillar.
“…we agreed,” Caiden argues.
“You’re the one who assured Juliette’s safety,” the other person, a man says.
“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” Caiden says defensively.
“I thought you said this was under control but it’s all gotten worse since that Iskvalandian bitch arrived.”
I tense at the vitriol in the man’s voice, then move slightly, so I’m not in view of the hole. Hearing them is enough.
There’s a grunting sound and I curse myself internally as I peer through the hole again.
Caiden’s shadows tighten around the man’s neck. His captive claws at them while making sputtering choking sounds.
“You so much as even think a negative word against my wife again and I will slice you open and remove your intestines while you watch.”
The man has his hands up near his throat, probably trying to claw those shadows from his neck.
“Do we understand?” Caiden seethes. “She is never to be harmed.”
I think the man is trying to nod, but he’s not making any more sounds. His hands fall, limp by his side.
The shadows dissipate suddenly and the man falls to his knees, then catches himself with his hands so he’s on all fours. He sucks in a breath, then starts coughing and sputtering.
“I was serious when I said she’s mine. Nobody will touch her. I don’t care how much plans change. Without her, everything fails.” Caiden kicks the man’s side. “Tell me you understand.”
He coughs again, then nods before managing a scratchy, “yes.”
“Good. We’re done here.” Caiden looks up and I swear he notices me before I can move away from the hole.
I flatten against the wall, heart hammering against my ribs. What the fuck is going on?
“I told you, I’m sorry about Juliette. I liked her. Which is probably why she was targeted,” Caiden says.
“She was my only daughter,” the man says, his voice still raspy.
“And you treated her like a prize mare,” Caiden hisses. “Get the fuck off my estate and don’t come without an invitation again.”
“Yes, of course, your majesty,” the man simpers.
“And remember what I said. If anyone so much as hints that they mean my wife harm, I will make them wish for death.” Footsteps tell me they’re leaving the barn.
The blood rushes in my ears and I press myself against the side of the barn. Holding my breath, I wait.
One minute passes, two….five. I don’t dare leave where I stand.
“You can come out now, Taylan,” Caiden calls.
I wince, then relax enough to pry myself from the wall. Swallowing over a lump in my throat, I walk toward the door.
Caiden is wrapping a bandage around his knuckles, not stopping to look up at me.
“Did you get hurt?” I ask, then chide myself. That’s the question you start with?
“I lost my temper.” He tucks the end of the bandage in, then looks up at me. “How much did you hear?”
I hesitate, how do I word this response in a way that might get him to tell me more?
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” He runs his uninjured hand through his hair. “We should continue. You were working on controlling the movements of your shadows. I think we should also work on blacking out a room. It’s a good quick way to gain cover if needed.”
“Should I be worried about needing to gain cover?”
“No. I don’t think they’d be stupid enough to try anything,” he says. “That man…” his hands clench into fists. “That man had the audacity to demand payment for the daughter he tried to offer to the highest bidder.”
“I didn’t realize you two were close,” I say.
“We were, before…actually, I don’t want to tell you all this.” He walks over to the crate, then carries it to the center of the space.
“Someone told me she had a brother…” I shouldn’t have brought it up, but it’s so rare he talks about himself. “That he was with your first betrothed.”
He smirks. “I wondered when you’d ask about that.”
“Is it true? Did you have him killed because he slept with her?” I hate how the last word comes out with a tone that implies I’m jealous. I am not jealous of a dead woman. Or any woman Caiden might have had or will have. Still, my insides twist with unwelcome anxiety.
“Yes, I was engaged before. Insufferable woman. Someone my mother chose. I met her once, then the next morning she was dead. And so was my cousin, Vincent.”
He’s so detached in his explanation. “You weren’t close to Vincent?”
“Never. Juliette and I were the same age. We got along well. Vincent was eight years older.”
“Eight? When was this?” Caiden was hardly older than me. How did his much older cousin end up in bed with his fiancé?
“If I tell you the story, can we get back to training?” he asks.
I nod, probably too enthusiastically.
“My mother was sick. Nobody knows that. Nobody. And you will not repeat it,” he warns.
I tense but don’t say a word. I’m too worried he’ll stop speaking.
“She wanted to ensure there’d be an heir when my father—if my father ever passed.
I’m not sure where the woman came from, but she was unusual.
I could feel the magic vibrating from her though she and my mother swore she had none.
” He looks into the distance as if trying to recall everything, then looks back at me.
“The day she arrived, I told my parents I wouldn’t marry her. She was older, though she looked my age. I suspect she was immortal somehow, though I never admitted that to anyone. My mother was, too, you know.”
My lips part but I fight back the burning questions. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well, they didn’t really talk about it much, but most of her story was rumors. It changed over the years, too. I suspect to make her sound more appealing to the masses.”
“Are you immortal?” I cut in.
“No. And I’m not supposed to know any of this. I found her journals, but only got through a few before my dad had them destroyed.” He swallows hard.
“Anyway, the story ends with servants finding my cousin and my bride-to-be dead. Stabbed with my knives. So, there you go. It must have been me.”
“But it wasn’t,” I say.
“No.”
“Yet you let everyone think it was.”
“People are much more likely to both avoid you and listen to you when they fear you.” He shrugs.
“That’s a lonely way to live,” I whisper.
“I told you. Time to work,” he says. “Sit on the box and don’t move. I’ll show you how I black out the room first, then you can try.”
I obey, but my head is swimming with the new information I gained. Even the secrets have secrets in Pendralia.