Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Deirdre
Something tickled my nose, and I sprung up, my mind disorientated.
With the drapes to the window still drawn, I couldn’t tell what time it was, and I still wore my wedding nightgown. The air weighed heavily with dampness, the room eerily still like the calm before a storm.
Flashes of last night came back to me.
Kane’s bedroom, the blindfold, the murder…
I don't know what I expected our wedding night to be, but I thought it was going to be a moment I could never recover from. That I would be forced to lie with the fae responsible for Crispin's death. And yet Kane had stopped, knowing that our marriage was not solidified until we made that bond.
Why did he care about my feelings? Or was it because he couldn’t?
Those old insecure thoughts bubbled to the surface, threatening to drown out any sense, but this time there was a slight pause because Kane hadn’t acted like I disgusted him. If I was being honest, he had been kind, something I didn’t think possible from the Deathless One.
Then there was that moment… closing my eyes, I breathed in, letting the guilt wash over me.
While Kane probably assumed my reaction to his touch had been complete fear, there was something else… something much more terrifying.
When his hand had touched my leg, warmth flooded that patch of skin, and I had never felt so guilty or ashamed in my entire life. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything other than complete hate and disgust toward Kane, but my treacherous body had other plans.
For the briefest moment, I had looked in his gaze, felt his hand on my thigh, and wanted him.
Not only did I betray Crispin’s memory, but I did it so easily… I hated myself.
But that guilt sharpened my resolve. I wouldn’t succumb to momentary desire. Kane could not be trusted.
I needed to get up, wash my face, and absorb yesterday's events, to process them into something that made sense because I was losing myself in this place.
Leaning over, I twisted the lantern on, illuminating the room in a warm glow.
A book sat on the night table.
This wasn't here last night.
Thunder boomed outside and I jumped.
Another rainy day.
I’d seen more rain here in the mountains than anywhere else.
Dropping my bare feet to the stone floor, I padded across the room and checked the lock on my door.
Still locked.
Knowing Kane had a secret passageway in his room, I wondered if I had one in mine and he just didn't tell me. Did someone sneak in and leave that book?
The thick green tome had a lock on the front and lying next to the book, an old key with a twisted head on it.
Someone had left this here, but who and why? And what was it?
I looked at it, rubbing my hand across the velvety top.
Should I open it?
What’s the worst that could happen? It’s just a book.
Taking the key, I put it into the book, twisting it, until the lock popped open. Scrolling black ink covered the first page.
There are no chickens here.
If this was a diary. It was a very odd way to start it.
There was nothing else on the page. I turned to the next one.
It has been a week, and Mother still hasn't returned.
My heart stopped and I quickly slammed the book shut. Was this what I thought it was?
Did Kane keep a diary?
Thinking back to what I knew about stories surrounding him, little was known about how Kane became immortal, but there were rumors that when his father died and he took the crown, there were murders happening in the castle. His mother was involved somehow and had disappeared with the head guard.
But that was it.
Kane survived all that because his mother had hidden him away, but no one knew where.
For the only people who truly knew the events surrounding Kane and his father’s death were his father, his mother, his pixies, I assumed, who seemed to know everything that went on, and the guard.
A burst of wind banged the window open. I rushed to it and closed it against the pounding thunderstorm.
Rain splattered my clothes, and I twisted the window lock shut. Lightning flashed in the dark sky, the moon fully hidden by the storm.
It would be a few more hours before dawn when Liora would come to tend to me. I wondered how much I could read by then.
After rushing back to bed, I climbed on top and curled the blanket around me, then I turned the lantern nozzle to make the room brighter.
Thunder cracked in the night, and I gripped the blanket tighter, the dampness creeping into the room. The fire in the hearth flickered, and I decided I’d better add another log before the temperature dropped.
After I padded across the stone floor, the blanket wrapped around me, I grabbed another log from the nearby pile and carefully tossed it in. The fire dimmed until I took the poker and positioned the log in a better place.
Heat blazed from the hearth, removing the sudden chill.
“That’s better.” Sighing, I scurried back to bed and to reading the next entry.
I don't know what to do. Mother hasn't returned. I'm alone here with only plants to talk to.
Was he in the realm of the dryads?
Out of all the places in Saol, the realm of the dryads was a sacred place, only accessible by those whom the dryads trusted. They were ancient keepers of the great Life Tree, the heart of our world.
Unless you had the markings and the right passphrase, nobody was allowed in. There were fables and tales about dryads. I had never seen one, though. I would have loved to have met the walking plant creatures who were a mix of fae, flowers, and tree.
Eager to know more, I flipped to the next entry.
He wrote about the different plants and the animals, and I squealed when I read the next line.
They can speak with their minds.
My heart swelled at the thought.
Even with my ability, I couldn't commune with flowers and Kane could speak to them? How exciting!
I put the book down and lay on my stomach, flipping to another entry dated thirty days later.
No one has come for me.
A familiar ache bloomed in my chest, the pain of being abandoned by your family.
Memories of my mother saying goodbye to me at the temple with a smile on her face had haunted me for years.
That pain increased when my mother and father had more children and suddenly I was forgotten.
Their visits became less and less until it was clear they no longer cared about me.
Even though I didn’t want to remember, that memory of the first day at the temple rushed in like an unwanted flood.
For hours, I’d cried, completely inconsolable. I begged the priestesses to let me go home and be with my family, and when my grandparents showed up to see me, the guards had to escort them out.
I belonged to the temple.
If it wasn’t for that gentle priestess, Madeline, who sang me to sleep, rocking me like a baby, I didn’t think I ever would’ve stopped crying.
A tear splashed across the diary, blurring the ink.
Why hasn't she come for me? Why hasn't Tallis? Are they dead? Am I the only one alive?
He was just a child.
Where I had at least known my parents were in the village and they could come visit every so often, I wasn’t truly alone, even though it felt like that sometimes. Kane was alone and he didn't know why.
I finished reading the next page.
They've abandoned me, or they're all dead. I don’t know how to get back home and no one here will show me. It’s been years now. Why? Why can’t I go home? I don’t want to be here anymore with stupid plants! I want my mother.
More tears fell and I closed the diary, a sob ripping through me at the innocence lost.
Why did his mother send him away? And why didn't she come for him?
Had it gone on that long?
What was happening in the castle?
I didn't know enough about the court politics of the fae or their history other than his father was murdered, apparently by his mother and her guard, and Kane became king. But what happened in between?
How was he gone for so long? Surely, more would have noticed his absence.
Holding the brass key, I stared at the diary.
Someone left this here for me.
Was it so I would have sympathy for him? So I would see how we were similar? Because I didn't want to feel this heartbreak for him. I wanted to hate him and continue hating him for the rest of my life.
It doesn't matter. Someone intentionally left this for me, and without knowing why, I need to be careful. These fae are as finicky as a Rose of Sharon, constantly squeezing in where they don’t belong.
I shoved the diary under the bed where no one would find it. Then I placed the key on my nightstand until I could figure out where to hide it.
“Just because he had an awful childhood doesn't excuse what he did.” Saying the words out loud didn't change the sorrow in those pages.
Someone knocked on the door. “Your Majesty.”
Recognizing Liora’s voice, I fixed my hair. “Yes, I'm here, coming.”
I ran to unlock the door, wiping the tears away.
“What are you doing in your room?”
Could I trust her enough to tell her the truth? She was my handmaiden. “The king returned me early this morning,” I finally said, deciding I should keep the truth hidden.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
She nodded, ending the discussion. “I don't know if you've had a chance to see your room, but it's quite nice.”
Going to the windows, she drew back the curtains one by one. The sun was rising, but the rainy gray sky muted the colors. Enough light entered the room to highlight the green and floral decor.
White wood furniture carved with intricate floral patterns sat on the edges of the square-shaped room. Beautiful hunter-green paneling covered with gold filigree covered the walls.
“I'd say out of all the royal rooms, this one might be my favorite,” Liora said as she tied back the last green velvet curtain.
“Whose was it?” I said, looking around, noticing there was more than just the bedroom, but a sitting room in the middle, and behind it a washroom with a big white porcelain tub with golden feet. A large golden mirror rested against a long white vanity next to it.