Page 124 of Between Despair and Hope

“People are traveling, already on their way. I intend to stay at Ravemont until…after. There will be things to take care of.” A thought occurred to me. “Will Ravemont belong to the Crown after he dies?”

“It will belong to you.”

“And I belong to you, the Crown.”

“Your heart belongs to me, not your property,” he said.

I stopped what I was doing, lifting my eyes to his. “It doesn’t feel like much of me belongs to you anymore. I certainly own nothing of you. Your ire, perhaps. I do own that.”

“Em,” he started, but I picked up my pack, carrying it past him to our bed.Mybed for the last few months. I picked up the sweater I’d laid on it, tugging it on over my button-down and scarf. Hissing through the pain in my shoulder and neck, I stayed quiet enough I didn’t think he heard me. I wouldn’t let him know about it. I didn’t want to give him that yet, still too frustrated about his behavior with Dewalt.

“Do you mind?” I asked, as I tugged at my breeches. I had a thick pair of soft leggings I planned to wear beneath them, an appropriate dress for the weather and the mountains.

“Do I mind what?” He asked, though it was clear he knew what I meant.

“I’m trying to change my clothes.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

His eyes raked down the curve of my thighs as I dropped my breeches. I ignored him as I finished ripping off the pants and quickly started yanking my leggings on. He took a step forward, his fingers twitching at his sides. When I pulled the breeches on over the leggings, I struggled. I was about to lie down on the bed and try to pull them up that way, when he reached out and gripped the waistband and tugged hard. Heat flared in his eyes, and I gulped audibly.

He cleared his throat and stepped back.

“You used to be close to Kennon. Well, closer than I was with my father. How are you feeling? I didn’t realize his illness was this bad when we were at Ravemont.”

“What do you mean?”

“That Gemma woman. His nurse? I thought…”

“Divine hell. Of course. I—With everything going on, I forgot to…” Incredulous with my own stupidity, I began to laugh. “I thought she was…I thought he’d taken a lover or—or wanted to wed again. Why did no one tell me?”

“I assumed you knew, I suppose. And we had more pressing issues. I guess that means you weren’t close.”

“No. We weren’t. Definitely not since…” I trailed off. Since our lives changed forever. “I’m indifferent.” I didn’t tell him I felt guilty about it, but I was sure it ebbed its way across the bond. “Can I borrow one of your winter cloaks? Mine is with the seamstress.”

“You don’t need to ask. What is mine is yours.”

Swallowing the knot in my throat, I trudged back to our closet and grabbed one of his cloaks, dark brown and soft. It was too long, but I’d make it work. He followed me, clearly on the verge of saying something. Opening one of the built-in drawers, I grabbed a few pairs of thick woolen socks. I heard him doing something behind me, but I focused on my task. There was one pair in particular I wanted. Knitted with thick fleece, I could pull them up to my knees. Finally finding them, I didn’t bother to speak to the man behind me as I left.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll send a letter if it will be longer than a week,” I called over my shoulder as I went to find Sterling to give him a last update. I considered bringing Bree with me through the rift, nervous about my skills and memory, remembering the difficulty in getting to the Cascade. What if I found myself stranded halfway back to Brambleton? I’d have to return to Astana and bury my pride enough to ask Rain for help.

“Wait, Em,” Rain called, footsteps echoing on the wooden floor behind me as I passed the cream sofa and headed toward the kitchen. I didn’t slow down because I couldn’t. I was heartsick and frustrated and numb.

Not finding Sterling in the kitchen, I sighed, turning around as I leaned against the archway into the dining room, eyes on the ceiling. I didn’t want to look at Rain, knowing he’d see to the heart of me. Knowing he’d see just how little I wanted to do this alone.

“Do you know where Sterling is?” I asked.

He came to a halt in front of me, not speaking, as I continued to not look at him. When I finally caved, crossing my arms as I took him in, I groaned in frustration. He’d done as I had and layered warm clothing over what he wore. A bigger pack than mine lay at his feet, stuffed full. He wore one of his winter cloaks, dark pine green, hood already up. Though his wounds from fighting with Dewalt had been healed, I saw the blood left behind on his face and hands. Anger flared through me at the thought. Not only was it stupid he didn’t trust his best friend, but his reaction meant he didn’t trust me. That he thought I could entertain something so deranged, so impossibly wrong? I was mad all over again.

“Did you fix Dewalt too?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you apologize?”

“Not yet.”

“Do you intend to?”

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