Page 42 of Arise the Queen
Later, when she returned to Trevena and peace was achieved, she would dispatch riders to retrieve everything she’d left behind.
Pausing a moment before leaving her quarters, she studied the room a long moment… committing to memory every detail—the ethereal beauty of its construction, the cocoon-like quality it provided, the immutable sense of refuge… as though nothing in this mortal world, nor even that of the Fae world could harm them whilst sheltered here.
The Betwixt was a sanctuary.
If she wished, she could don the Druid’s robe… stay… never leave this place, live well… be safe, and she would be lying if she said she did not consider it. The Druids were very much a men’s association, but Gwendolyn was hardly the only female who’d ever ventured here, and she knew they would welcome her without question. And…
This was also where she and Málik first consummated their…bond.
However…
She could not afford to be soft.
Not now.
She’d made a promise to defend Pretania against the Red Tide, and she would lead this army to victory. After all she hadbeen through, she must rise to the task for the sake of her people. She would not let them down.
At last, turning to go, pushing through the drapes, pulling her cowl up to cover her golden curls as she quickened her pace, slipping through the Druid village, eager to be away. All her life she had been sheltered by her father's wealth and power, shielded from the harsh realities of war and politics. But now, she must step into a world unknown to her, where strength and cunning were far more valuable than wealth and beauty. Once and for all, Gwendolyn determined to prove herself worthy… even if it meant losing Málik forever.
19
With both swords heavy at her back, Gwendolyn was never more aware of her burdens as she made her way through the Druid village, her feet moving deftly, quickly, navigating the twists and turns with all the familiarity of one who had lingered here too long.
Oddly, it was Bryn on his first visit, who’d shown her how to find her way about this village—simple once she understood the signs.
On the ramp down, she was struck by the rich autumn hues of the surrounding trees, and it bolstered her resolve to leave. Summer was waning.
Moving with purpose, Gwendolyn followed the ramp down until it spilled her upon a ribbon of earth she knew would lead her to the Druid’s stables. In the forest below the village, gnarled-old trees flanked the dappled path. Ferns, whose fronds were already brown and curling along the edges, skirted a path blanketed with fallen leaves, creating a soft, rustling carpet that cushioned her steps. In the cool shelter of the woods, near a stream, the stables housed only a handful of mounts, hercompany included, but before seeking Emrys, she wished to make certain Enbarr’s mares were being prepared to ride.
Admittedly, she was also curious to note whether Esme had retrieved her mount, but Gwendolyn was fairly certain she had not. No one in this Druid village had seen Esme since before her departure with Málik—and thinking of Málik again, she whispered an oath. Everything always came about to him—always, and it galled her.
Truthfully, she was not so much wounded by the evening’s culmination—how could she be when it was she who’d left Málik to dine alone? Rather, she was far more troubled by the things she had learned in theunderlands, and the fate it now boded her. His lies, his deception—why, by the eyes of Lugh, had he left her to wonder over his intentions with Esme? Didn’t he realize how painful that was to see them together, even if only for pretense?
But he had yet to reassure her over this, and for all Gwendolyn knew, they were lovers reunited.
And that song!
Gwendolyn didn’t know why it unsettled her so much, except that it left her grieving again for the woman who’d given her birth. All night long, she’d lain in the shadows of her room, mulling over the current state of affairs, and try though she might, she couldn’t see her way to forgiving Málik for lying to her face about something so fiendish as his mission to end her life.
Neither could she forgive the fact that, for every moment of their affiliation, he had been biding his time to complete his task.
In fact, the more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
How came you to be in my father’s employ?
I was sent.
By whom?
My father.
If Gwendolyn dared allow herself to consider this too closely, her heart would break a thousand times more. But anger would serve her well, so here she would dwell, and she was still seething over it when Málik found her on the path to the stable.
His first mistake was to grab her by the arm.
She spun to face him. “You!” she spat.
His beautiful lips bore the barest hint of a smile, and Gwendolyn cursed him toIfreannfor that handsome face. “I am told you mean to ride within the hour?”
