I returned to our chambers with the Earl's warnings echoing in my mind, the truth, the oath, everything was disturbing me immensely.
The room was dark, Lord Kaldric was there, pacing the floor with dark, almost controlled movement, emitting usual dominance.
The moment I stepped inside, he turned, his face held suppressed fury.
"I leave you for a heartbeat," he growled, glancing strictly at me.
"And you jump into the arms of another man. Tell me, Ardelle, what were you doing with him on that balcony?" He mocked my entire devotion with his words, walking towards me like a predator.
"Was the 'shadow' finally bored of the iron? Did the Earl offer you a brighter sun to follow?"
He surged forward, his hand snaking out to grab my arm, his grip hard with a jealousy he refused to name.
"What were you doing, huh? How do you expect me to believe in you when you stick to another another the moment you are alone–"
"I got hurt!" I yelled, ripping myself from him. I wrenched my hand away and held it up between us. "I was mindless and I got hurt, My Lord,"
The heftiness in the room seemed to vanish.
Lord Kaldric froze. His silver eyes dropped to my hand, landing on the reddened, blistered skin where the tea had scalded me.
The rage in his expression, it shattered. He glitched, his entire body jerking with a sudden, panicked uncertainty that he couldn't hide.
He didn't speak. He didn't mock me. Instead, he reached out, his touch surprisingly gentle. and began to undo the silk cloth the Earl had wrapped around my hand.
He tossed it aside, his lip curling in a silent snarl at the reminder of Emerson's touch.
"What was it?"
"Tea. The cup slipped."
"How?"
"I…" I looked away nervously, "I was busy staring at you from the balcony."
He paused and pretended he did not hear it.
"Sit," he commanded, his voice thick and strained.
He moved with a strange, focused energy, retrieving a jar of cooling ointment from his travel pack. He sat beside me on the bed, his large, scarred hands trembling slightly as he applied the cream to my burn.
The silence consumed both of us where none of us dared to provide an explanation or continue the conversation further for now.
Then, he reached into his own medical kit and pulled out a roll of coarse, clean linen, the heavy-duty bandages used for the knights.
He began to wrap my hand, his movements practiced and protective. He was dressing my wound with his supplies, marking me with the same rough care he gave his own body.
"Does it hurt a lot?" He finally asked after a long time.
I shook my head, "I am used to much worse on the streets, My Lord. It is nothing."
"You should be careful. You are not on the streets anymore." He whispered.
"It was an accident," I whispered, looking down at his dark head.
"Of course it is," he muttered, though there was no heat in it.
He finished the wrap and tied the knot with a sharp, final tug. He didn't look at my face. He simply stood up and walked to the bed, climbed under the covers and closed his eyes.
Not thinking much about anything else, I also laid down.
We lay in the bed in a silence that wasn't the silence of war, but the silence of an exhausted truce. I stayed on my side, staring at the bandaged hand, his bandage. feeling the cooling herbs work their magic.
I didn't try to poke him. I didn't try to speak. I just let sleep pull me under.
When the morning light broke through the curtains, I didn't even have to look to know. The warmth was back.
Lord Kaldric's massive arm was locked around my waist, his hand splayed flat against my stomach, pressing my lower body entirely into his.
He was pulled flush against my back, too firmly in his strong arms, his face buried in the crook of my neck.
Even in sleep, his grip was possessive, a silent, iron-clad refusal to let me drift toward any other light.
I almost rested my hand over his.
"Commander?" Aldwin's familiar knock echoed at the door. "The horses are being readied. We leave Sernic at noon."
Kaldric didn't bolt upright this time. He lingered for a single, heavy heartbeat, his arm tightening around me for one last, desperate second.
"The mattress," he hissed in my ears, lips almost touching the skin as if he wanted to press me… harder into him, his voice gravelly with sleep as he didn't move an inch.
"Is indeed soft," I whispered, completing his words, an empty smile coming to my lips.
The morning of our departure from Sernic was a whirlwind of activity.
The knights were mounting their horses, and the King's carriage was already positioned at the gates. I was adjusting the dress Lady Olivine gifted me.
She had given me perfume and a few beautiful dresses, including that pink gown I adored.
A servant whispered that Lady Olivine wished for a final word in the rose garden.
But it wasn't Olivine who waited among the thorns.
Earl Emerson stood by the fountain, looking undeniably attractive in his noble dress, like a hero from a tale—the kind of man a girl like me was supposed to dream of.
"My Lord? You? They said–"
"I knew you wouldn't bid me goodbye after what I mindlessly said." He chuckled emptily, staring at the flowers.
"I apologize if it hurt you but every word was true and I still wish you to make wiser decisions."
I blinked in confusion, "I am not sure I follow, My Lord."
"Ardelle. There is nothing in that path you are on." He finally turned with me with an austerity that didn't suit his gentle and charming form.
"Leave it. Leave Kaldric, Leave the expedition. Leave everything and stay in Sernic. Here, with us."
To say I was astonished was an understatement, he spoke what I hadn't even thought about, "My Lord… how could you say that? I can't possibly–"
"Why not? Consider it a golden opportunity. Be wise, Ardelle, and make better choices."
He reached out, offering both his hands to me, palms up, in a gesture of total vulnerability.
"I will protect you, Ardelle," His voice dropped to that smooth, melodic register that had charmed the entire court, expecting to beckon me with luxury too.
"I will keep you safe from the cold, from the blood, and from the man who sees you as nothing more than a duty to be endured."
"Why, My Lord?" I asked, keeping my hands tucked firmly at my sides, my body tensing with distress at where this was leading, "Why go to such lengths for a commoner like me?"
"Because you are pure," Emerson whispered, stepping closer when I stepped back, his tall form hovering over me, staring dead into my eyes.
"And Kaldric is too blinded by his own shadows to realize it. He will only ever offer you iron and silence. I offer you warmth. I offer you a life where you are cherished, not tolerated."
His hand extended holding my elbow with one hand and offered his other to me with a frightening intensity. My body flinched, staring at him in disbelief.
"I will be a lover Kaldric can never be, Ardelle. Just take my hand, and the King will find a way to dissolve the marriage."
I found myself too stunned to react, I glanced at his open hand. They were soft, clean, charming and filled with comfort. They had never known the weight of a claymore or the sting of a battlefield.
"I agree, My Lord."
My chest stung, a smile adorned my lips, glancing at him as my body slowly relaxed. A sad, knowing expression that seemed to surprise him.
"You are right about everything. Lord Kaldric is indeed harsh. He is cold, cruel, he is stubborn, and his words mostly hurt me."
Emerson's eyes lit up with a predatory triumph. He thought he had won but I couldn't help but to chuckle.
"But I find–" I started, the brief but soft yet meaningless moments between us and in that I found my entire world. I find comfort in that harshness. I find truth in his silence. I find everything in my husband.
Before I could finish my sentence, the air behind me turned frigid. Earl Emerson immediately released. I blinked, the words I was about to announce with pride abruptly got interrupted.
A heavy, gloved hand landed on my shoulder. The weight of it was staggering, the leather cold against my skin, yet I didn't flinch. I knew that touch, the presence of it itself was etched into my core.
Lord Kaldric.
Lord Kaldric stood behind me, his presence swallowing the light of the garden. His silver eyes were fixed on Emerson with a lethality that made his hands tremble and retreat.
"So," Lord Kaldric rasped, his fatal voice vibrating through my very bones. He leaned down, whispering warningly in my ears.
"The beggar has finally found the highest bidder huh?"
The word beggar served as an indirect slap, the way he gripped my shoulder, the possessive, painful force of it, it turned my face pale in horror.
"Commander, you overstep," Emerson snapped, trying to regain his composure.
"The Lady was simply—"
"The Lady is my bride," Lord Kaldric cut him off dominantly, his voice a low, thunderous warning.
"And you are a man who forgets that the Pillar does not just hold up the Crown; it crushes those who try to undermine its foundation."
"I did what I considered right." Emerson enunciated, not a single hint of hesitation on his face for the absurd offer.
"Do not create a matter here, Emerson. The King is waiting at the gates. Do not make me show him how easy it is for me to snap you before I snap this woman."
Emerson opened his mouth to retort, but the sheer, raw violence emanating from Lord Kaldric silenced him. And the words 'before I snap this woman' terrified me to the core.
The Earl stepped back, his gentle affection retreating in the face of a man who looked ready to burn the estate to the ground.
Lord Kaldric didn't wait for a farewell. He spun me around, his hand sliding from my shoulder to grip my upper arm. He led me away from the roses and the sunlight, his pace frantic and abrupt.
I was frightened of the storm brewing inside the man holding me, he had created endless wrong perceptions about me already.
He didn't speak a word as we marched through the grand foyer, past the bowing servants, and out toward the waiting horses.
He hoisted me into my saddle with such force I gasped, his eyes finally meeting mine for a split frightening second, amplifying my heart rate. They weren't filled with disgust anymore, it went deeper, dark and much worse.
A wild, desperate hunger that he couldn't name, and a disappointed wrath that I had almost chosen the light over his darkness.
"Don't look back," he growled as he mounted. I didn't dare to. For the first time, he didn't have to tug my hat down, my eyes were already fixed on the ground.
We rode out of Sernic at a gallop, the golden gates closing behind us. I couldn't look back. I was following the only shadow that mattered, even if it led me straight into a nightmare.