Page 90 of A Game of Monsters

“Free,” Duncan answered, back hunched as he sat on the edge of the bed. Even the slightest movement made him wince. “I would say I’m relieved, but the cost of my freedom is far too great. I was hoping, for good or bad, that I would perish and take Duwar with me – but you had other ideas, darling.”

Duncan had just confirmed, in a manner of speaking, that the glass I found beneath his pillow was meant for harming himself.

I sat beside him, feeling the bed shift beneath my weight. “I’m so sorry for–”

“Don’t.” Duncan placed a hand on my knee and squeezed. It took him considerable effort just to do that. “Don’t apologise to me, Robin. Everything you did was because you loved me, I know that. I have no ill will toward you. I’m just relieved we even get to have this conversation in the first place.”

I hung my head, chin to chest. “But what else can I say? After what I’ve done to you, I should grovel at your feet for forgiveness.”

Not only for the pain I caused, but for the pain I was about to give him.

“Darling, please,” Duncan exhaled. “As much as I like the idea of you being on your knees for me, perhaps we can wait until I’m feeling better. I fear that I can barely sit up properly.”

I turned to face him, just in time to catch his wink. Even in his state, Duncan could find his mischievous side. Altar, I’d missed that. Missedhim. In a sense, I had mourned Duncan long ago, feeling as though a moment like this would never happen.

Now I was faced with the conversation I dreaded.

I cleared my throat, finding it dry and in dire need of water. “There is something I need to tell you, Duncan.”

At that, Erix turned on his heel across the cabin and faced us. “It wasn’t Robin’s fault,” Erix snapped. “If anyone should be laying their sins on the table, it is me.”

Duncan looked between us, his bloodshot eyes slow to follow. When he blinked, his eyes would stay closed for a second longer than normal. I took his hand from my knee, threaded my fingers between his and melted beneath the true warmth of his touch.

“No,” I said to Erix, then faced Duncan. “No, I won’t let him do that.”

“Do what?” Duncan asked, eyes widening a fraction.

“Erix is doing the gallant thing and trying to take the blame for something that happened between us. But it was entirely my doing.Myfault. I will not have anyone in this room thinking otherwise.”

“Robin,” Erix said, voice stern, attempting to stop me. “This is not blame you need to burden right now.”

“Both of you, just stop.” Duncan laid weak fingers on my knee and squeezed, his words shocking me to silence. “If this is about the kiss-on-the-cheek incident, you really have nothing to worry about.”

“You know?” I asked, tears stinging my eyes.

“I do. However, it’s something I expected to happen; after all, I brought you together for a reason.”

I shook my head, doing everything not to look him in the eyes. “But I kissed him, Duncan. I kissed Erix, cheek or not. Regardless of whether you know or not, you deserve to hear the truth from me, and the apology that you are owed.” The tears began to fall, cresting over my cheeks, clearing a path through the grime coating my skin. “Whilst you were suffering in Icethorn by my hand and decisions, I was in Lockinge trying to find a solution. And… Ibetrayedyou.”

I bowed my head, but my chin was caught by two firm, calloused fingers.

Duncan lifted it back up, so our eyes met. “Is that all? Is that the only burden that weighs on your morality?”

Is that all?Three words, one question, and I found myself almost admitting that it could not have been. More could have happened. I searched for comfort in Erix, almost selfishly laying myself next to him in bed. Not to mention Duwar’s dreams. My betrayal to Duncan went far beyond that kiss.

I dared not speak, so instead I just nodded my head.

“Why are you crying, Robin?” Duncan swept the tears from my cheeks. “I don’t understand why you are reacting in such a way?”

“Because I love you, and I did the unspeakable. I broke your trust…”

I caught Erix in the corner of my vision. His knuckles were between his teeth, his brow furrowed so deep the lines across his forehead were cavernous.

Duncan pondered my reply, drinking me in, refusing to look away. “I don’t doubt that you love me, darling. But I do doubt that you really believe you broke my trust.” He took a deep breath in, the sound harsh as it rattled in his chest. “Let me tell you both this, plain and clear, you have broken no trust, nor have you done anything I did not prepare for.”

“I… missed you–” I choked. “I swear. Everything I was doing, everything I planned for, was to help you.”

“I know, darling.” Duncan trailed his trembling fingers and placed them over my cheek. He was so cold to the touch, the tips of his fingers like ice. “However, since we are in the conversation of truths, I want to ask you something. I beg that you answer it honestly.”

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