Chapter 22
Ryn’s family was proving to be rather loud.
And as a group, prone to jumping to conclusions.
Xavi and Ryn were rushed indoors and herded into a room that he could only describe as soft, considering the alarming number of rugs and couches and cushions that littered the space.
And it was there that they encountered a regal woman with silver-blonde hair, wearing a gray dress and an expression so icy, she might have been carved from a glacier.
“Camryn.”
“Mother.”
Ryn’s voice was flat. Her expression had turned disturbingly bland, and her hands were clasped neatly in front of her.
“I suppose I should be thankful to know for certain whether you are alive or dead.”
“Yes,” Ryn muttered, “you really should be.” She leaned towards Xavi. “I do apologize for my family’s rudeness. This is my mother, Vivienne Halivard, the Dowager Baroness.”
But the older woman simply went on speaking as if she hadn’t heard.
“First, you disappear, leaving us nothing but a letter to say that you were pursuing your studies in the field. Then, we find that you’ve drawn every penny out of your accounts.
And most alarming of all, we received the most appalling rumor that you’d been seen consorting with mercenaries, of all things. ”
“Consorting?” Xavi murmured. “How very scandalous of you.”
Ryn’s lips pressed together, as if to prevent them from twitching.
“And then we don’t hear from you for what, half a year? We were beginning to think you might be dead—”
“For the record,” Olivier interjected, “I didn’t think you were dead, Tiddlywinks.”
“Thank you,” she replied, while clearly struggling not to laugh. “What an unimaginable relief.”
“Olivier, I would appreciate it if you didn’t interrupt!”
“Uh, Mother?” Ryn looked at her parent askance. “Is that why you’re wearing gray? Because you assumed I was dead?”
The older woman drew herself up haughtily. “Was I supposed to not mourn my only daughter?”
“I was gone for six months. Not six years! And I told you I was on a field study in Dunmaren. I believe I made it very clear in my last letter that I could be traveling for at least a year.”
The dowager baroness stiffened in protest. “No one comes back from that awful place. No one! I was so certain we would never see you again that I gave up hope of you ever being married. I put your dowry in the attic, and I even gave your betrothal gown to… to…”
Ryn let out a long-suffering sigh and crossed her arms. “To Sariah Brightleigh, I suppose?”
“Well, when you disappeared, the Chomley boy proposed to her instead, and I couldn’t have them thinking I bore a grudge.”
If it had not been for Ryn, Xavi would have assumed he’d fallen into some strange dream world, where the inhabitants regularly engaged in bizarre conversations that meant nothing at all.
But clearly, all of this meant something to her.
“I never said I was going to marry Ronal,” she stated firmly. “In fact, I believe I very clearly stated exactly the opposite. Mr. Chomley is a very eligible man, I’m sure, but he and I would not suit each other at all.”
For some reason, Xavi found himself quite interested in all the reasons why Ronal Chomley did not measure up to Ryn’s expectations.
“He’s from a good family,” her mother argued.
“I’ve known his mother since we were children.
He has enough property to afford a wife, but not so much as to be unreasonably picky.
You would have been respected and comfortable, if not quite fashionable, and Ronal would not have minded if you indulged in your little hobbies from time to time. ”
“My little hobbies?” Ryn repeated, beginning to sound wrathful.
“Perhaps you don’t know, Mother, but when Ronal was renovating his estate, he told me that he decided not to put in a flower garden for his future wife, because it really wasn’t necessary for a wife to be out of doors when she should be managing the house and caring for the children. ”
Her mother smoothed her skirts and folded her hands. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it in quite that way.”
“And when we were younger, he told me he couldn’t understand why I’d been allowed in his family’s library, because it contained subjects of interest only to men.”
“Well, of course he isn’t perfect,” her mother retorted in an exasperated tone. “And I suppose this one is.” She waved a hand at Xavi. “I suppose he has a flower garden and reads poetry and encourages you to talk about old things and dead people and stories made up to scare children.”
It took Xavi a moment to absorb the implications of the woman’s statements before he recalled that Ryn’s family believed that they were… betrothed, the humans called it. Preparing to be bonded.
He immediately opened his mouth to deny that any such thing was possible. Ryn was to become his king’s bride, in one way or another. Even if she never fully bonded with him. Even if neither of them knew exactly what would happen once the curse was broken.
But then he happened to catch Ryn’s eye, saw her pleading desperation, and remembered what she’d told him back in the valley.
I doubt my family will be willing to speak to me again. I suppose it’s even possible my brother will disown me…
For whatever reason, she still wished for these humans’ acceptance and approval, and Xavi decided there were just enough echoes of compassion lurking in his soul to indulge her.
“I do not have a flower garden,” he said. “But I do have… a valley. And I have studied the great epic poets.” Of a civilization long lost, but there was no need for this human to know that. “And as for old things, I confess, it is a relief to me that she seems to find them so… fascinating.”
Ryn turned slightly pink and tilted her chin to look at him, her lips parted with an adorably confused expression.
As if she knew he was telling them nothing but the truth and wasn’t sure how far he intended to take it.
“We share an interest in the stories of those long vanished from this world,” he continued, “and as for scaring children? I find they are often far more resilient than adults.”
Judging by their expressions, it seemed he had shocked Ryn’s family speechless. But the reprieve didn’t last long.
“But who is your family?” Ryn’s mother protested. “Where do you make your home? I’m sure I’ve never heard of you, so how can we be certain whether you are able to support my daughter? Whether your character is steady and your reputation honorable?”
For a moment, Xavi was tempted to indulge in the purest, most devastating honesty.
To tell them that he had once been powerful, admired, and respected.
Leader of armies. Second-in-command only to a king, his character and reputation above reproach.
Women of beauty, wealth, and high position had vied for his attention and would have considered it an honor to be his bondmate.
He’d never had time for such thoughts, though.
His entire life had been about protecting Kel.
First by supporting him through his father’s death, then ensuring that he was able to take the throne, and then preparing for war.
And after that, guarding his back through a succession of endless battles.
Willing to die a thousand times if it meant Kel would live.
In all that time, he’d never once considered taking a bondmate. Never spared a moment to wonder what it would be like to wake up to the same face each morning. To permit someone that close to him, allow her to see his scars and know his heart.
And once the curse had ensnared him, the very idea had seemed impossible. He was forever stained by all that he’d done in service to its cruel demands. And despite the pain, he’d counted every loss worth it, so that perhaps Kel could be saved.
But even if such things as bondmates were not to be for a man in his position, he thought he understood the pressures Ryn faced—even if he could not fathom why the curse-wrought trial would send them to this place.
But no matter what the curse intended, he was determined not to fail Ryn a second time.
“My home,” he said, “is lost to me, but that means I am free to make my home wherever your daughter’s heart is.
And while I do not claim great wealth or property, I do claim the ability to support and protect her amidst the dangers of her chosen profession.
And as for my character… Those who know me well would assure you that I do not turn aside from my path.
My allegiance, once given, is given forever.
If this assurance is enough for Lady Camryn, then I would pray you respect her choices and wish her joy. ”
In the few moments after he finished speaking, one might have heard a feather drop to the rug, so complete was the silence. Even Ryn seemed to have been shocked into utter stillness, before finally blinking rapidly and leaning towards him with a relieved-sounding exhale.
“I salute you,” she muttered under her breath. “That was the sneakiest speech I’ve ever heard. Let’s just hope it works.”
Ryn’s mother was looking between the two of them with narrowed eyes, as if she could somehow determine the truth of their relationship with the power of her stare.
“Oh, come, Mother,” Olivier said, walking up and giving his sister a tentative hug.
“Let’s congratulate Ryn. You know you always thought she’d die alone and unhappy, and now she’s finally found someone who understands her.
Surely you can find some relief in that.
Put off your mourning and celebrate their happy news. ”
Xavi sensed rather than saw Ryn’s wince and came to the oddest realization.
She loved them. Despite their casual misunderstandings, despite their callous words and inability to accept her as she was, she still cared for them and didn’t want to disappoint them.
But no matter how events proceeded from here, this situation could bring nothing but disappointment.
Even though Xavi had not lied, this little charade they were enacting was going to end by hurting everyone involved.
If Ryn were ever able to return home—and if all this was real and not the work of the curse—she would do so without him.
She would be seen as a jilted bride, and her family would feel betrayed by their ruse.
A sense of bitter regret pierced him—cold as the winter winds off the remote mountain peaks—and he wondered whether he had erred in spite of his determination. Could it be that he’d failed Ryn anyway? Or had he failed Kel by claiming his bride, even if only by implication rather than intent?
But there was no telling what the curse thought of his words, and no way out now but forward.
“You are right, Olivier.” Ryn’s mother shook her head a little, but stood up all the straighter and squared her shoulders as if preparing to take charge of some monumental task.
“We must make the best of this. And I won’t have the Chomleys and the Brightleighs believing they’ve had some sort of lucky escape. There’s only one thing left to do now.”
“Mother,” Ryn said slowly and with evident suspicion, “what are you thinking of? I should warn you that we cannot stay for long. We only came to… uh…”
Sadly, there was no truthful way to finish that sentence. But she was saved from any need to complete it by her mother’s brisk interruption.
“You’ve denied me the chance to interrogate my daughter’s suitor, to offer advice on the suitability of his family, and to extend or withhold my blessing,” the dowager baroness returned tartly.
“You will not deny me the opportunity to do something I’ve been looking forward to since the day I first held you in my arms and realized I had a daughter. ”
Ryn froze in horror. “No.”
“Yes.” The older woman gave a decisive nod.
“I will throw you the most elegant and elaborate betrothal ball this neighborhood has ever seen. We will invite the Brightleighs, the Chomleys, and everyone else who ever dared bring up to me the inevitability of your failure to find a husband. And before the evening is over, they will eat their words and slink home with the reminder that the Halivards should never be underestimated.”
They were going to throw a ball?
And invite other people to watch?
Xavi wanted very badly to ask why these humans were so desperately bored that they would gather their friends to play with a child’s toy, but Ryn’s hand was suddenly on his arm, squeezing as if to say, please don’t speak I beg of you.
“I really wish you would not go to so much trouble,” she said, in a tone that reminded Xavi of a criminal pleading for a stay of execution.
“As I said, we cannot stay long. And Xavi is not fond of large crowds or loud music or… any size of social gatherings. Can we not just send out an announcement and be content?”
“Two days,” the dowager baroness announced loftily. “You will give me two days. In that time, your brother can become better acquainted with your betrothed, and I will find time to outfit you more appropriately for your station. And once the party is concluded…”
Her expression grew fierce but resigned. “After that, you may return to whatever lives you have chosen. So long as you promise to update me from time to time so I can at least know you are alive.”
Beside him, Ryn sighed deeply, as if reconciled to the fact that they could neither escape nor evade this trial. “All right,” she said quietly. “I suppose we can wait that long.”