Page 102 of The Splendor of Fire
Léo didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to end it, but she instinctively knew he would the next time they talked. She couldn’t call to him, couldn’t explain herself.
Forever silent, all she could do was nod, turn, and walk away.
It tookMoira all day to come to terms with the knowledge that her great love was slipping away from her. Léo wanted her to be his wife, and she knew in her heart she couldn’t give up her position on the team. How could she give up what had set her free and given her purpose? A purpose she felt born for?
Sitting at her table, she looked out over Loch Slapin as a flock of shelducks landed on the glassy surface, casting a V-shaped ripple behind them. Guilt crushed her. How had she been so careless? While she’d been preoccupied blaming Léo for the ways he’d hurt her, she’d hurt him as thoroughly as he’d hurt her. Perhaps worse.
Yet in the grief for what she would lose, there was a glimmer of relief that he was strong enough to end things. The feeling unsettled her, but it was there nonetheless. She couldn’t turn away from the mission God had given her, not even for Léo. God had given her these talents and she had a responsibility to him, and to the team that was relying on her to aid them in stopping the Wolf. How could she let them down?
She touched the Psalter and the dried tops of the Michaelmas daisies. If he knew the secret of who she was, would he understand why she had to do this? Would he understand why she had to see what was at the end of this path? Why she had to find out what she was made of? She flipped open the cover of the Psalter and pulled out the charcoal note.
Léonid - I love you with all of my heart. I trust that you’ll never let me fall. I’m yours forever and ever.The black splotch where she’d crossed out the secret assailed her conscience. She didn’t trust him with the truth. Picking up the notes, she walked to the fire, feeding it into the embers alongside his.
Perhaps the reason things weren’t working was the lie she lived each day. She couldn’t be fully Léo’s, couldn’t fully give her heart when it contained a deep secret. How much did she love him? How much did she not want to lose him? How could she decide to end things, when for Aileen, they’d never truly begun? Inking a quill, she sat down at her table and began to lay herself bare.
My beloved, Léonid?—
My earliest memory is being in a boat, out on the open sea. I remember begging my family to let me go along, and being told no. I was only four years old. But I snuck aboard the boat anyway—hiding under an oilcloth. I remember revealing myself when we were out to sea and someone being angry, though I can’t remember who.
The next thing I remember is the sound of raised voices, and the glossy back of a dolphin swimming over quick, rippling waves beside our boat. I looked at the creature and said, “Good morning, dolphin.” They were the last words I ever spoke.
The next thing I remember is reaching out to touch its back. And then, black, sucking waves. I went under fast, and it felt as though someone pulled me through the tide. I came up a few minutes later and collided with a branch. I held on, and kept holding on for two days.
On the third day, my branch collided with a boat—a man’s boat. He plucked me out of the tide, my throat ragged from crying and screaming. My throat was on fire. He told me I could call him Father Allen, but I couldn’t speak. He took me home, and his wife, Joan, healed me, but my voice never returned.
I couldn’t tell them my name, or about my family, or how I came to cling to a branch, or how long I’d bobbed in the water. They kept me anyway, and named me Moira. They told me I was an answer to their prayers. By the time I learned to read, to write, to sign, I’d been Moira for years. They loved and cared for me so much, I couldn’t tell them my true name. I wanted to be theirs, to belong to someone, so I never told them. And now…they’re gone. Everything Moira was was wrapped up in being their daughter. Again I’ve felt I’m that lost little girl sucked out to sea, and don’t know who I am or where I belong.
Until now. After so many years of not having a voice, I have friends who speak to me in my language and listen to all my thoughts. I can use the areas God has given me overflow to help good men defeat evil. I feel as if I am finally living as the woman God made me to be.
I’ve never meant to hurt you. I don’t want to break your heart, and I’m sorry that I have. I don’t want to live without you, but I don’t want to be swept away from who God made me to be.
No, I don’t want to give up my place on the Shield—but what if we work together?I want to fly through the air and land in your arms. I trustyou not to let me fall and to keep me safe. We could weigh the risks we take together, and I promise I’ll even let you tell me no and submit if it’s too risky. Because I love you. And I trust you. And I know you only want to keep me safe.
But I know you haven’t just yourself, but a precious boy to think of. Gabriel needs a mother, and you need a wife, and beloved, I need a family. We’re meant for each other. I pray somehow we can find our way forward together. But if I’m not the mother you want for him, Léo, I pray you find a wife who will be everything you need.
I have loved you from the moment your lips touched mine. In that moment I knew I had found the only man I would ever love, forever. The man worthy of the woman I truly am. Léo, my lion, I want you to be the first to know my deepest secret—my name. The only thing about myself I know for sure. Please understand, please chooseme, Aileen.
Yours alone. — Aileen, from the sea.
Blowing on her signature, she dried the ink and folded the message, tucking it inside the Psalter along with the dried daisies. Feeling as though she was running across a branch two-hundred feet in the air, she hurried through the keep up to the garret, and into his room.
The smell of lavender permeated the chamber. It was practically as spare as it’d been months earlier when he’d arrived. Except for a trunk, a small shaving kit, and a hand mirror, the room had no adornment or decoration. She breathed in and out, feeling at peace in the simplicity of the room.
Touching one uncreased pillow, she lifted it, tucking the Psalter beneath its ivory shelter. He would find it tonight, and he would know. She wasn’t Moira, she was Aileen. And Aileen she evermore would be.
Rising, she touched the latch, looking once more around the room and breathing him in, then pushed into the hall.
“Mistress Allen.”
Fingon stood at the top of the stairs, his narrow back to the wall. Heart slamming against her chest, she dropped her eyes to her shoes as he walked past her and opened Léo’s door, looking around.
“What were you doing in my brother’s room?”
She lifted her eyes to his to respond and his hand connected with her cheek. “Know your place.”
Tears blinded her vision, but she kept her composure and looked at him making her eyes empty and relaxed, defying him. His hand came up again and she pointed to her mouth.Explain?
Fingon’s hand lowered. “Let’s hear it.”
