Chapter 16 #4
there until Roark looked up at him. “Where’s the girl?” he
snarled.
Roark shrugged. “Princess Alina and I went
our separate ways when a gang of men came after us in the Mounths.
I was captured. She got away.”
Roger looked to Scott.
“That’s how we found him,” Scott said. “The
gang who’d caught him were bragging about it at an inn. We paid
them off with a few coppers.”
Roger furrowed his brow and glared at Roark.
“Why isn’t he bound?”
“He swore he wouldn’t run,” Scott told him.
“He wanted to come back and face the charges against him.”
Roger snorted. “You believed him?”
“He kept his word and was no trouble.”
“What did you hope to gain by coming back
here?” Roger asked Roark. “Sympathy? Leniency? Your family’s
forgiveness? An honorable death for a heinous crime?”
“The truth,” Roark told him.
“The truth,” Roger sneered. “What would you
know about the truth?”
Roark flashed a quick grin. “We’ll find out
soon enough.”
***
Roark paced his old bedchambers, his prison
cell for the past two days now. Word had come: his parents would be
arriving at North Shore Keep sometime this afternoon, and his trial
would take place tomorrow.
He’d slept little and fitfully, missing Alina
so much his chest ached. He wished she’d been pregnant with his
child, that there would be a living, breathing testament to his
life and their love in the world, because the closer his trial got,
the less faith he had in being exonerated. The only things he had
to argue his innocence were his word and hearsay. He still didn’t
have a single piece of hard evidence someone else killed Leif, and
it was unlikely the real murderer would confess.
He was sorry for putting his family through
all of this, for dragging their name through the mud and likely
leaving it besmirched for years to come. But he wasn’t sorry for
what he’d done or why he’d done it. He didn’t feel bad Leif was
dead. He’d tried to rape Alina, and would have, had Roark not
stopped him. He’d deserved what he’d gotten. Unfortunately, Roark
doubted Roger or any of the MacKinnons would see it that way.
They’d lost their only male heir, as well as their hostage, who,
unbeknownst to them, should be safely back in the fold of her
family by now.
Roark hoped she was. Otherwise, this would
have all been for nothing. Well, not nothing. If Roger hadn’t sent
him to kidnap Alina, Roark never would have met her. Never would
have loved and been loved by her. If he died, it would be a small
price to pay for that privilege.
“Damnation.” He had to change the directions
of his melancholy thoughts or he was going to go mad. Mad for want
of Alina. Mad at the unjustness of the world. Mad for dreaming of a
world where the consequences and repercussions they were about to
suffer matched what they’d actually done.
The outside bolt, which had been installed on
his door during his absence, slid open and his mother walked in. He
threw his arms around her and hugged her tight.
“I’m so glad to see you,” he said as she
hugged him back. “Though I am sorry about the cause.”
“Don’t be,” she said with a soft smile. “I
know the truth of things. The truth of you.”
Her steadfast faith in him warmed him to his
core. “Thank you, Mother. For everything. Truly.”
She sniffed and stepped away from him as his
father stepped up. “Well, Roark,” he said coldly. “What have you to
say for yourself? For the shame you’ve brought on your family?”
“Any shame you feel is based on Roger’s many
lies,” Roark told him, aware that Roger stood at the open door.
“I lie?” Roger hissed. “My son is dead
because of you.”
“Your son is dead because of his own
actions,” Roark said. “Because he tried to rape Princess Alina.”
Roark looked directly at his father, spoke directly to his father.
“I did not kill Leif. I swear it.”
His father held his gaze for a long moment,
his expression implacable. “We’ll see,” he said, and then he took
his wife by the arm and led her out of the room and down the hall
with Roger as Bryce stepped in.
“Roark, me lad. Glad I am to see you.”
“Uncle Bryce.” Roark actually laughed as he
was embraced in his uncle’s bear hug. “Not half as glad as I am to
see you.”
“Your friends from the north filled me in on
everything,” Bryce whispered into Roark’s ear. “Roger thinks
they’re my men for now. He won’t be hanging you without a fight,
lad.” He stepped back and grinned. “An old friend of yours showed
up at Yew Tree Keep a few days ago. He was limping a bit, so I left
him to rest up in my stables.”
“Artur?” Roark asked. “Artur is at Yew
Tree?”
Bryce touched the side of his nose.
Roark took his first deep breath in what felt
like days. “Can you do me a couple of favors, Uncle?” he said in a
low voice. “Can you keep Artur’s return a secret?”
“Of course, lad.”
“Also, can you take my friends from the north
and ride into port today, look for a ship called The Rover
and ask to talk to Kerry and Kerwin? Offer them your protection if
they’ll speak at my trial about where they were to sail with
Alina.”
Bryce slapped him on the shoulder. “Will do,
lad.”