Chapter 23 Small Rebellions #2
“So how can you hate a man, but miss him dearly at the same time? This does not make sense to me. I either don’t care if someone lives or dies, or I won’t hear a word against them.”
“My father did what he did because he thought it was right. He thought it would be good for our family.” She fidgeted, smoothing her skirts. “I am only angry at him for putting his love for our family above his love for me.”
“Are the two not the same?”
“No. Where I am from, duty is the most important thing, and it comes before an individual's wants or feelings. If a union is desired between two houses, the bride or groom might oppose the match, but every noble has a duty to do whatever is best for their family. Noblewomen usually have it the hardest, though, as we can only marry men in our social circle or higher.” She gave a wry smile.
“And gods save the woman who tries to marry for love.”
“But you are free to marry who you wish, are you not?” He raised an eyebrow at her, as if he didn’t quite believe her.
She laughed, the sound hollow. “May I have permission to speak plainly? If I were a good daughter at all, I would have married Duke Howard, been miserable, and had his children, giving my father an unbreakable tie to the Howard line.
“Noblewomen are never free to marry whom they wish. Often, women end up in loveless, unhappy marriages because of the stability offered by an advantageous match. And even if they are happy together and are blessed enough to have a child, a woman never sacrifices every inch of her health, figure, and mental well-being out of want. She does it out of duty to her family and to her child. Most families are built on female sacrifice because of duty.”
He gestured to the bench on the terrace.
She took a seat as he sat beside her, propping an elbow on the back of the bench.
He leaned towards her and rubbed a hand over his beard.
“Your opinion of women in this world is too severe. Wives and mothers are happy. I have seen them.” He raised his brows.
“What are your thoughts on marriage then? And don’t tell me that you’ve never thought about it. ”
“I’m twenty-six. Of course I’ve thought about it.
” She pressed her lips together, hesitating, before she said, “I’ve seen too little of the good of men, and too little of the happiness of mothers to see marriage as anything but a gilded set of shackles.
” She paused. “And now that I’ve run away …
I often wonder if I would be happier alone. ”
He surveyed her for a moment, and she felt like his eyes were staring into her soul.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I didn’t mean to speak so freely with you.” Her eyes fell on her slippers. “Forgive me.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Caspian said sharply. “I’d rather have an intelligent conversation about things that matter than have endless small talk about banal things like the weather.” He paused. “Even if I do disagree.”
She studied him. “Thank you for letting me speak freely. Sometimes I have strong opinions, even if I do usually try to keep them to myself.” She paused and smiled. “I assume there’s little chance you’ll suspect me of witchcraft and dark magic if I sound opinionated from time to time?”
He gave her a look.
Elizabeth chuckled. “A benefit of talking to a demon, I suppose.”
“I’m glad there is one.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “So. You’re a noblewoman, yet you do not dream of love?” He looked skeptical. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Love is a fairytale,” she said softly, “and only found in works of fiction.”
Caspian gave her a wry look. “That’s the first thing you’ve said tonight that I actually agree with.”
She looked away. “Sometimes I think love is a lie they tell young women, so they’ll walk down the aisle with a smile on their face. Men are too cruel, too selfish to deserve the word.”
He shrugged. “Cruelty cuts both ways.” He looked at her for a moment, and asked carefully, as if the answer was important, “And … do you want children someday?”
She winced. “Want is an odd word. I don’t think I have much choice in the matter, if I were to ever marry.”
“But say you had a choice.”
“If I had a choice?” She paused. “Then in that case … I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? It’s a simple yes or no, is it not?”
“It’s—complicated.” She paused, pressing her lips together. After a moment, she grinned and said, “May I tell you a dark secret, Caspian?”
He leaned forward and nodded.
She hesitated but said, “I think children are adorable and precious beyond compare.” She paused. “But I don’t know if I want to give up that much of myself. I—I am selfish.”
He shrugged. “With your own happiness? I don’t think that’s selfish at all.”
“Really? You don’t think that’s incredibly horrible of me to say?”
He frowned. “Why would it be?”
She searched his face, looking for the lie, but all she found was blunt honesty she didn’t know she needed. Could he tell how many times she had stared off into space, wondering what was wrong with her for being hesitant of the future she was always told she should want?
Caspian chuckled. “Hardly a dark secret, though. I thought you were about to admit to murdering someone or robbing someone for coin.”
“Oh, but it is, though. I’ve been afraid to say it out loud for years.” She sighed. “I know what I want doesn’t really matter. Sadly, nobility talk of nothing but their lineages.”
It must have been a trick of the light, but his eyes looked brighter. Caspian appeared to be hanging on to her every word, with a focus that unnerved her.
“I—it will be fine,” she said dismissively, forcing a smile to her lips.
“Someone told me once that when it’s your own, you see things differently.
I hope—I hope that will be the case for me.
” She paused, uneasy by the intensity with which he was listening.
“Enough about me, though,” she said quickly.
To put him on the spot instead of her, she asked, “Tell me about you. Did you ever have a family?”
“I did once.”
She smiled. “Any brothers or sisters?”
“A sister.”
“Were you close?”
“No.” His voice was hard.
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear. I’ve always wanted siblings.”
Caspian was quiet for a moment, his gaze lost on the horizon.
After a while, he said, “In my first life, before I was changed and awoke as a demon, I lived in a small farm town in Israr. A sickness took my mother, and a year later, it came back for my sister. We couldn’t afford a Healer.
But a Healer could have saved them. A year later, my father died as well. ”
“Oh. Did he catch the same sickness?” she asked delicately. The horrors he had endured, she could not begin to imagine.
“No. He was executed … for something that was not his fault.”
She was burning with questions, but she bit her tongue. For Caspian to share such a tidbit of his life was a feat of its own. Slowly, she said, “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“And did you ever want children?” she asked, attempting to bring the conversation back to the lighthearted banter they had shared only moments before.
“Never.” His voice was cold as ice.
They sat in silence, staring at the last dregs of sun slowly slipping below the horizon, dragging the colour of the sky with it.
Without prompting, Caspian surprised her when he shared, “The ballroom is unused because I do not care to pander to boring, selfish people. I enjoy my life here, and I have riches aplenty, with no need to prove it to anyone. Balls are a needless show of nobility peacocking, and a place for them to revel in feeling superior.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his voice cold and harsh.
“Nobles are awful people, all of them, and I could live my entire life happy without ever having to play host to the very worst type of humans.”
She eyed him for a long moment and said tartly, “The only reason I won’t take that as an insult is that I can see your anger at the nobility isn’t directed at me. So, I’ll ask, who was she?”
“Who was who?”
“The woman who made you hate the nobility. She was a noble, was she not?” she asked. “Or perhaps it was a man, a lord who wronged you at one point in time.”
“No one.”
Elizabeth smiled. “And … who was this no one, and what happened between the two of you?”
He scowled. “She married someone else, and then she died,” he said curtly. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but his eyes looked almost green.
She leaned towards him, her gaze softening. “But … forgive me. If you cared for each other, why did this woman choose to marry someone else?”
“Because at the time I was a poor farmer,” he snapped. “And she was not.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your doing. She made her choices, and I made mine. I’ve since gained a family that would die for me, who obeys my every whim,” he said, haughtily.
She hugged him, hoping to resuscitate the vulnerable man she had glimpsed a moment before. He melted into her arms for a moment, then stiffened as if realizing what he was doing.
He quickly withdrew from her.
She tilted her face up to his and smiled consolingly.
“You’re allowed to miss them, and I’m sorry your first love left you for a man of higher standing.
I couldn’t imagine how awful that must have felt.
And losing your sister, your mother, and even your father.
So much loss you have endured.” She placed a tentative hand on his jaw, cupping his face.
A dark expression came over his face. His voice turned vicious and cold. “It doesn’t matter. Revenge is enough. Someday, I will try for peace.”
She stared into his eyes, captivated. They were the most mesmerizing shade of seafoam green.
The outer ring of his iris was a deep navy blue, and the rest of his iris was pale green, cradling an inner circle of brown.
The contrast with his usual silver eyes was exquisite.
He had pupils, and looked, for all the world, like a normal man.