Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Questions Without Answers
A Precious Secret
They resumed walking.
The villagers no longer openly stared at Adira, though Dravic caught more than one curious glance in her direction.
“I understand their distrust of me—”
Merek stopped him. “Your grandda gave us many reasons not to trust the crown. We fought for Scotara in the Great War. Men and women from Driochmor left their families and fought beside yours. Many never returned.”
“Aye,” Dravic said, “many lives in Scotara were lost and many left with wounds that were hard to recover from, if at all. It was good those in the kingdom stood side by side. That unity, that courage and sacrifice is what won the war.”
Merek’s voice hardened. “You speak of unity. We came home believing what we sacrificed mattered. Then your parents died, and suddenly the people they fought beside looked upon us as enemies.”
Dravic felt the weight of the villagers’ stares differently now. He had thought he understood their distrust. He had not. Tharne would.
A man preparing for war would seek every weakness in the kingdom he intended to conquer, and Dravic had just walked directly into one his grandda had helped create.
“These people still belong to Scotara,” Dravic said.
Merek turned to him. “Aye.”
“But belonging to Scotara and being willing to die for it again are not the same thing.”
Merek stared at him for a long moment. “Nay, my king. They are not.”
Dravic looked around Thorskaill once more. He had had no plans to come to Driochmor, but fate had thought otherwise and he was glad fate had.
He was beginning to understand that before he could ask these people to stand with him, he would first have to prove he was not King Halric—and that Scotara was still worth standing for.
Merek led them to the cottage he had promised them, a small stone dwelling tucked beneath the sprawling branches of an enormous tree. The thick limbs stretched over the roof as if protecting it, and even in winter tiny silver leaves clung stubbornly to them.
“The cottage will serve you well for the night,” Merek said. “Food will be brought shortly.”
Dravic nodded. “My men?”
“Being settled as we speak.”
Dravic looked to Seger.
“I’ll see to them, my king.”
“And the guards.”
Seger nodded. “Already being posted.”
“Good.”
Merek took his leave and Seger followed not long after making certain no surprise awaited in the cottage for the king.
Dravic was glad to see it sat a comfortable distance from the neighboring cottages. Privacy had become a rare luxury since entering Driochmor, and tonight he wanted it.
Adira stepped past him when he motioned for her to enter and immediately felt the warmth of the room.
A fire burned steadily in a wide stone hearth, filling the cottage with enough heat to chase away the cold that had settled into her during the long ride.
A small table with two chairs stood near the hearth, and beyond it a narrow bed covered with thick blankets occupied the far wall.
A washstand, several pegs for their cloaks and a wooden chest completed the simple furnishings.
Adira smiled. There was something comforting about the smallness of the cottage after being surrounded all day by warriors, villagers, and things she did not understand.
Dravic entered behind her and closed the door.
The latch dropped into place.
Adira turned at the sound and froze.
She had heard it. Not clearly enough to know what had caused it, but there had been a distinct sharp sound behind her.
Her gaze went immediately to the door.
Dravic was removing his cloak and did not notice.
Adira stared at the latch. Had that been it?
Her heart began to beat faster. She wanted to touch it. Lift it and let it fall again so she could discover if the same sound returned.
But Dravic would wonder why.
She forced herself to turn away. One thing at a time. She needed to understand one thing at a time.
Dravic hung his cloak on a peg, then reached for hers. Adira turned her back to him and allowed him to remove it from her shoulders. His hands lingered there after the cloak was gone.
She looked back at him. He was staring at her. The look in his eyes sent warmth rushing through her that had nothing to do with the fire.
All day he had wanted this. A closed door with no guards hovering nearby. No villagers watching. No king who needed to measure every word and action… only Adira.
He hung her cloak beside his and took her hand.
His thumb moved slowly across her fingers. Then he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.
Adira smiled softly.
Dravic’s gaze settled on her mouth.
He had intended to sit down. To speak to her about everything Merek had told him and the question Ernach had planted in his head.
Instead, he drew her toward him.
Adira came willingly.
His arm slipped around her waist, bringing her against him, and his mouth settled over hers.
The kiss was slow, almost lazy, nothing like the desperate hunger that had consumed them before. Dravic simply enjoyed her—the softness of her mouth, the way her body relaxed against his, the feel of her hands settling against his chest.
For a little while he did exactly what he had wanted to do since arriving in Thorskaill.
He forgot he was king.
When he finally lifted his head, Adira remained close, smiling up at him.
“Adira.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She heard him, not merely a sound this time but her name… Adira.
For one terrifying moment she thought the wonder of it must surely show on her face.
She had never heard her name. Or had she since it sounded oddly familiar to her? And now the first voice she heard speak it… belonged to Dravic. The man she loved.
She lowered her eyes before he could see too much and rested her cheek against his chest, wrapping her arms more firmly around him.
Dravic mistook the gesture for affection and kissed the top of her head.
Adira closed her eyes. Her heart beating so fiercely she wondered if he could feel it.
Adira.
She repeated the sound silently, holding it close. Her name falling from his lips. She wanted him to say it again.
Instead, Dravic took her hand and led her toward the hearth. He settled into one of the chairs and drew her onto his lap, wrapping his arm securely around her.
She rested comfortably against him, her head near his shoulder, and he immediately questioned the wisdom of having her so close.
The bed sat only a few feet away.
It would take little effort to carry her there, strip them both of their clothes and lose himself in her for the rest of the night. The thought alone had him tightening his arms around her.
But then he remembered the grimace she had tried to hide when he placed her on his horse that morning. He had known what caused it. And after spending the entire day riding, she was surely in no condition for what he wanted from her tonight.
Dravic frowned.
He had never before found himself concerned over whether a woman was too sore to bed. But Adira was different. Everything with her was different.
He pressed a kiss to her temple and forced his thoughts away from the bed. He needed something else to occupy them.
Unfortunately, Ernach provided it.
You ask much about your grandda and da, but nothing of your mum.
And when Dravic had said he knew all he needed to know about her, the old man’s response had been simple.
Do you?
The question had irritated him when Ernach asked it. It irritated him even more now.
“Ernach thinks I should be asking questions about my mum.”
Adira’s heart gave a hard beat.
His voice. She heard it.
She kept her head resting against him and her body relaxed, giving no indication that anything had changed.
But she had heard him. Not everything.
Ernach… questions… my mum.
Three pieces of what he had said had reached her clearly.
She wanted more.
Dravic’s fingers moved absently along her arm. “I cannot imagine what he thinks I don’t know.”
This time the words reached her differently. Some remained muffled, almost as if something stood between her and them, but others emerged clearly enough to understand.
“…what he thinks I don’t know.”
Adira’s heart beat faster, but she remained still.
Dravic stared into the fire.
“My mum was Ravina of Northland. She was a princess, the daughter of their king.”
“Mum… Ravina… Northland.” Then— She was a princess… daughter… king.
Adira listened with growing wonder.
He was no longer merely making sounds she struggled to grasp. His words were beginning to have meaning.
“My grandda arranged the marriage between her and my da. It strengthened the alliance with Northland.”
Some escaped her. Others did not.
Grandda… marriage… my da… Northland.
Dravic gave a faint shake of his head. “Those are facts. I know all of them.”
That reached her almost completely.
Adira’s fingers curled slightly against him before she caught herself and relaxed them.
Dravic noticed nothing. His attention remained on the fire and the question that refused to leave him alone.
“But Ernach wasn’t asking if I knew the facts, was he?”
Adira heard only pieces again, but she didn’t care. Every word that reached her was another treasure.
Dravic fell silent for a moment before throwing the question out there. “What does he think I don’t know about her?”
This time she heard him clearly—every word.
Adira’s heart pounded so hard she feared he would feel it. She had heard an entire question. His entire question.
She wanted to lift her head and look at him, but she didn’t dare. She knew him too well. He would see the excitement in her eyes. He would know something had happened. So, she remained nestled against him and waited eagerly for him to speak again.
Dravic’s arm tightened around her. “My mum was Ravina of Northland,” he repeated more slowly, as if saying what he knew aloud might help him discover what he did not. “But who was Ravina?”
Adira closed her eyes.
She heard every word.
Dravic slept soundly beside her, his arm draped heavily around her waist, holding her close even in sleep.
Adira did not. She doubted she could have slept if she tried. Too much had happened. Too much was happening. She lay quietly within the circle of his arm and listened. That alone amazed her.
The cottage was no longer completely silent.
The fire burned low, yet every so often she caught a faint sound from the hearth. A snap. A soft crackle. Sounds she had never known belonged to fire.
She heard the wind as well. At least, she thought it was the wind. A low sound that came and went beyond the cottage walls.
Then there was Dravic. His breathing.
Adira’s heart swelled. She turned her head slightly on the pillow and looked at him.
She had heard his voice tonight.
Not simply a word here and there. She had heard sentences. She had listened to him talk about his mum and understood much of what he said. Toward the end, his words had grown clearer, the silence seeming to retreat farther and farther from them.
Would it continue?
The thought brought excitement rushing through her all over again. What if she woke tomorrow and could hear even more? What if one day the silence disappeared completely?
Her excitement faltered. Or what if she woke tomorrow and it was gone?
Adira swallowed the sudden disappointment that thought brought. That was why she could tell no one. Not yet.
She did not understand what was happening or why. She had lived without sound for as long as she could remember, and now, without warning, it was returning to her.
Returning.
The word troubled her. Could something return, if she had never possessed it?
She pushed the thought aside. There were already too many questions she could not answer.
Another came quickly enough.
If she could hear again, could she one day speak?
Adira stared into the darkness. She knew how words looked written on a page. She knew how mouths moved when people spoke them. But she had no idea what her own voice sounded like.
Did she even have one?
She almost smiled at the foolish thought. Of course she must. She simply had never learned how to use it.
But if she could hear…
Hope rose so swiftly that she forced it down.
Nay, she would not do that to herself. She would not build dreams upon something she did not understand. She would wait, listen, and see what happened.
And most importantly, tell no one. Not even Dravic.
Her gaze returned to him. Moonlight slipping through the small window left enough light for her to make out his face. He looked different asleep. The hardness that so often settled there was gone. No scowl. No impatience. No king staring back at a world he expected to obey him.
Only Dravic… the man she loved.
Adira’s heart ached with the truth of it. She loved him. There was no longer any reason to pretend otherwise, at least not to herself. But she could not help but question once again what could ever become of that love.
He was king.
She was no one.
She possessed no title, no lands, no family name that meant anything. She could not bring an alliance to Scotara or strengthen his kingdom through marriage. A king needed a wife who could stand beside him before his people and give him heirs.
What could Adira give him?
Her love.
It seemed both everything and not nearly enough.
Dravic had made it clear he wanted them always to be together. She believed he meant it. She had seen the determination in his eyes when he made the gesture that nothing would separate them.
But he could not command away the duties of a king. Not even Dravic could do that. Someday reality would intrude upon the little world they had somehow made for themselves.
She did not want to think about someday. She had tonight. She had him now. And, however much time fate intended to give them, she would not waste it worrying over the time it might be taken away.
Adira turned carefully within his arm until she faced him. He did not wake.
She smiled, thinking how he would reach for her even in sleep. However, tonight she wanted to reach for him.
Her fingertips drifted lightly over his naked chest, tracing along his muscles, wondering how much it would take to wake him.
Her hand moved lower, slowly, deliberately.
Dravic stirred.
Adira stilled.
His eyes remained closed and she let her fingers wander again and this time his arm tightened around her.
His eyes opened.
Adira stared at him.
And in the darkness, roughened by sleep, his voice reached her. “Adira.”
Her heart soared at the sound of her name. She gave no sign that she had heard. Instead, she moved closer and kissed him.