Chapter 19 Kieran
Kieran
By the time I’m back at Fairbright Palace, I’m hopeful that my bodily exhaustion will result in a deep, restful night’s sleep.
I slide into the soft bed sheets, promising myself not to go to Gen’s room tonight.
Not after I stole that kiss from her under the willow tree, after I felt her soft body pressed against mine, the way she became pliant and willing in my arms, even after fighting against what I knew she needed most.
No, if I go to her room now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off her—and I want her to be the one coming to me next. She’s had a taste of what we once had, and I want her to be insatiable for it the next time we kiss.
But, of course, sleep doesn’t come. It never comes easily after my time in the mines, but a day like this makes decent sleep impossible.
The close work of instructing Gabriel and his soldiers on how to safely remove the rot did nothing but bring back my own dark memories of holding it back deep underground.
Then there was Gen, working side by side with the townspeople to clean up after the celebration that never happened, serving the uneaten food to those who looked like they needed it most.
Her compassion was unexpected. I’d thought she would be safely ensconced back at Fairbright before the cleanup even began.
Maybe I’ve been too harsh on her all this time.
Maybe she isn’t destined to become like her mother.
For Naseria’s sake, I hope this wasn’t just a bid for praise but a genuine desire to make a difference for the people around her.
Not even Leland stayed to help. Not after Kalise demanded they return to the palace for “private matters.” Kalise wouldn’t even look me in the eyes, which makes me wonder if she suspects there’s more between Genevieve and me.
If she does, she’s not publicly accusing either of us—but how long will that last? And do I want to see Gen ruined any longer?
My own jealous heart got the better of me this afternoon.
I couldn’t stand there any longer, watching Gen paraded about like a porcelain doll, only to be humiliated by that terrible kiss.
Anyone could see she wasn’t interested in kissing Leland, yet she’d endured it for the crown, for what she’s expected to do.
Seeing Leland overcome by her touch was almost more than I could bear. If it hadn’t been for the spreading rot, I might have done something very foolish, like knock a prince out for touching what shouldn’t be his.
But she is his. She’s making a mistake, day after day, choosing a life she’ll soon regret. And I can’t stop her. I’m the one who left her, even if it was her own words that drove me away.
I finally give up the false hope of sleep and quickly dress. The key to Gen’s room sits on my night table. I shouldn’t go there; I have no intention of going near her tonight, but I slip it into my pocket anyway. I can always just check on her, maybe bring a flower for her to see in the morning.
I make my way toward the garden wall separating the public grounds from the Ashcroft gardens.
As I climb over the wall, the bell tolls one.
Gen should be asleep by now. I pluck a bundle of bright peonies, their crisp floral scent reminding me of the way she felt in my arms, the tiny sighs she made as we kissed.
This is a mistake—coming here after I’ve touched her, after her lips moved against mine and she pressed her unbound breasts to me.
It will take everything I have not to stroke her soft hair, not to slide into her bed beside her.
But that’s not why I’m here. No, I just want to bring her flowers.
I need the reassurance that, after this difficult day, she’s found the rest she deserves.
The hidden door creaks open, revealing an empty room.
A fire crackles in the hearth, and a gas lamp burns low, making the space warm and inviting.
I place the flowers on the bedside table and turn to leave.
I don’t particularly want to get caught sneaking into Gen’s rooms. She knows I have the key; if she wants me here, she’ll invite me in.
“Kieran, is that you?” Gen’s voice carries from the sitting room. She steps into her bedroom wearing a lavender silk nightdress that cascades down to her bare feet. “I knew you were the one bringing me flowers. I should have thanked you sooner.”
For a beat too long, I’m transfixed by her—the soft fall of her strawberry-peach tresses, the way her unbound breasts shift with her every movement, the trace of silk over her full hips. But then I notice the tension in her jaw, the weariness in her puffy eyes.
I step closer; I can’t help it. “Gen, I thought you’d be asleep. Are you alright?”
She shakes her head, stepping toward me but holding herself back. “No. No, I’m not alright.”
“Today wasn’t easy. The rot—”
“The rot nearly took Mari from me. She worsened quickly, and I spent all evening at her bedside trying to help her find some relief from her pain. She can’t sleep, can’t seem to find rest. A fever burns through her, and there’s no medicine that can bring her any comfort.
Can you help her? From what Leland said in the carriage, it sounded as though you have more experience with the rot than anyone else. ”
I don’t respond to what Leland shared in the carriage.
There’s no point in discussing that with Genevieve, even if she’s shown me a different side of herself today.
Instead, I ask, “Did her doctors bathe her thoroughly? The affected area should always be treated first. The fever and other symptoms should go away with time.”
Her sister shows the classic symptoms of overexposure to helachite, despite only being exposed to the rot. It’s strange—typically, direct contact with the rot leads to rotten skin and, if untreated, a painful death. Perhaps it’s her blue blood that gives her these symptoms.
“She shows no signs of rot on her skin, so I believe she was treated right away. But I worry how she will recover. She’s so terribly ill, Kieran.
” Gen’s chin gives a small wobble. She isn’t used to dealing with hardship in her comfortable life, and in moments like this, it shows.
That doesn’t discount the pain I now see she’s endured with her gift—or the way her mother controls her every decision—but she hasn’t known loss.
“I wonder if the person doing this is close to your family,” I muse aloud, and Gen immediately looks at me with a cross expression, little scowl lines forming around her full lips.
“You truly hate my family, don’t you?” she snaps. “You must, to say such a thing. It’s obviously someone trying to harm us—someone who despises us. In fact, none of this became so serious until you arrived.”
I hold up my hands, shocked that she would suggest such a thing. I returned to Naseria ready to make Genevieve Ashcroft understand what it means to feel defeated, to make her recognize that she’s a spoiled brat who’s never known suffering. But now, I’m not even sure that’s true.
My voice comes out harsh as I say, “Gen, I would never harm you or your family with helachite or the rot. It is—I cannot begin to describe the damage it does to a person. I want the guilty party discovered, and I want them held responsible for their actions.”
“The constables are working hard to find the person responsible. It will happen, I’m sure.”
“It damn well better! There’s a dead man who didn’t deserve to die, let alone die in such a painful way. I don’t want there to be another one. These attacks have been far too close to your family. You must consider whether it’s not a servant or someone else who has access to you.”
Gen’s brows crease as she looks away from me. “You truly think it’s someone near our family?” Her eyes dart back to mine, and she moves minutely closer. “No, you’re right. It does seem that way.”
Her face softens, and it catches me off guard. I want to pull her close and protect her. I want to explain all the reasons I’m torn between despising her and desperately wanting to make her my world again. But I don’t. It’s not my place.
“Be safe, Gen.”
“Don’t you want to ruin me, Kieran? Why do you even care?” She steps closer again, close enough that I can smell her sweet scent.
I clench my hands into fists to resist the wave of need to pull her close. She’s all-consuming, and yet she’s my own form of poison. So wrong for me that I know the only antidote is to stay far, far away.
“Against my own judgment, I care for you far too much, Gen.”
Her lips purse tight, and she walks to the hidden doorway. “I think you should listen to your judgment. Good night, Kieran.”