Page 169 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

“I told him that last night.”

Madan winced. “I’m certain that went over well.”

“I do not know,” she admitted. “I left right after I said it.”

“And you had every right to do so.” Madan smirked at the horror on her face. How could he say that after everything he had seen and gone through with his own brother? “Your thoughts and feelings are every bit as valid as that gods forsaken bond of his. He made his decision when he did Ehrun’s bidding, and now he has to live with the consequences.”

“But—”

“No.” He sat forward, face twisting with pain, and took her hand again. “No. You owe him nothing. I only tell you all of this because he’s an absolute dolt who can’t explain himself well in any situation. You deserve to know all the details and to make whatever decision you wish based on the facts presented to you.”

Ariadne blinked hard, throat tightening, and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“He does love you, though.” Madan fell back against his pillows. “He’d put a knife in his heart if you asked it of him. Gods, he’d lay his sword at Ehrun’s feet and accept his fate if he knew it’d make you happy.”

She recoiled at the thought, though she still held on to him. “I would never.”

Madan shrugged. “That’s only for you to decide. All I ask, if you do choose to leave, is…make it a clean break. Don’t give him any hope. I can only help him recover if you’re done for certain.”

Another quiet moment passed as Ariadne wrestled with her thoughts. Two distinct paths lay ahead of her. What she needed to decide was which path to choose. Neither would be easy. She squeezed his hand and stood. She laid a soft kiss on his forehead. “Thank you.”

As she made her way back to the door, Madan said, “And Ariadne.”

She paused, hand poised on the doorknob, and looked back at him.

“You’re my sister as much as he’s my brother.” He gave her a smirk. “You’re stuck with me, so don’t expect me to disappear anytime soon, no matter your decision.”

To her own surprise, Ariadne laughed. “I would not dream of it.”

Chapter 36

How had it been only a week since Azriel’s world collapsed around him? The time and distance between him and Ariadne felt like an eternity. Though he’d kept himself from her for more than a year, their marriage—and subsequent days filled with sex—had only strengthened the bond.

He was, in fact, fucked.

Ariadne slept in a guest suite down the hall and often left a room anytime he appeared. She wasn’t cruel or haughty. In fact, she spoke very little to him and spent much more time with Madan instead.

His brother, back on his feet and adjusting to life without an arm, appeared almost normal again. Between feeding from Bella and Oli, he’d recovered quickly. When Izara had returned to collect her payment, she checked on Madan’s arm and confirmed no poison lingered in his body. The news had eased Azriel’s worries.

But the house remained quiet. The servants moved like wraiths from room to room, and meals, while communal, were almost silent.

“I don’t know what to do,” Azriel confided in Madan one evening as they sat together in the parlor. He clutched a glass of liquor and stared into the golden ripples.

Madan used a spare, empty glass to practice balancing it on the end of his arm, below the crook of his elbow. His eyes never left the precarious wobbling as he said, “Give her time.”

“It’s been a week.”

“So give her two.” He glanced up, and the glass tipped. He caught it in his hand, set it aside, and drank from his full cup. “Give her as much time as she needs to sort everything out. She’s just as hurt and confused as you.”

Azriel sighed and sat back, his head tilting so he looked to the ceiling. “I know. I know.”

“She hasn’t left,” Madan pointed out. “And she’s kept your secret—from even her sister and friends that I know of.”

He sat forward. “How would you know?”

His brother smirked and sipped his drink. “They visited last night.”

“When?”

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