Page 22 of Saved By the Headless Horseman
“You were dead,” I whisper.“I saw the body.How did you—why did you?—”
My fingers dance along his birthmark.How many hours have I spent tracing the shape?Countless.I thought I’d never touch it again, and now I can’t seem to stop.
The Headless Horseman—Krane—snarls at me before shoving me away.Instantly, I am freezing—the temperature of the dungeon plummets.The rage inside his eyes brings me up short.My Krane would never push me away.He would never look at me with anything less than adoration.
Everything makes sense to me now.
I understand his anger, even if it is misdirected.My father’s betrayal was more complex than I could’ve ever imagined.He made me complicit in his foul deeds.It wasn’t enough to kill Krane, but he had wanted him to suffer and think that in his final moments, I had rejected him for another.They will all pay for their hand in this.
“Krane.”
I keep my voice soft, approaching him carefully like a wounded animal.
“Stop saying my name!Confess,” he hisses.
Taking another tentative step towards him, I hold up my hands.My small blade is still clutched in my palm, and I quickly return it to the sheath.Trying another step, he growls and fire snaps at me from inside the pumpkin.
“None of it’s true.”I swallow thickly, desperation causing sweat to slide down my back.“I never went back on my word to you.I love you.”
“Liar!”he snarls, lunging towards me.
I hold my ground.I can’t cower in the face of his rage.If there is any chance of getting him to realize the error of his thinking, I must be unwavering.
“It’s true.I’ve always loved you.From the moment you saved me from drowning in the pond when I was seven until right now.I have loved you and only you.”
Krane pulls back, his hand curling into fists at his sides.I press on undeterred.
“Look at me,” I command, gesturing towards my body.“I’ve been dying without you.”
His angry eyes track down my body.Shaking his head, I know he can see the difference in me, even if he doesn’t want to admit to it.
“What my father said to you was a lie.”
“No.”
He spits the word at me while digging into his worn pockets.Rummaging around, he pulls out a crumbled piece of parchment.It is stained with all manner of dirt and blood.The folders are deeply creased, as if read over and over.
“What would you make of this then?”
With a flick of his wrist, the parchment flies towards me.I catch it between my palms and fold the worn pages back.The words on the page make my stomach sour.I devour each hateful, deceitful sentence.All of it is a disavowing of our connection—that it was nothing more than a childhood fantasy that had gone too far.
It makes me sick to read, but I must admit the script is familiar.As is my signature at the bottom.
“I didn’t write this.It’s a forgery.”
Krane laughs without humor, his eyes dimming inside the pumpkin sockets.
“Can you do anything besides lie?”
Indignation sparks within me and loosens my tongue.
“It’s the truth.”
I can’t imagine what he’s been through.The pain of dying—of thinking I abandoned him in his final moments for the sake of money and titles.His body was twisted into this infernal form, bent on getting revenge and letting that anger fuel him.My heart begins to clench in my chest.
If I cannot break through to him, I could lose him again.This time, permanently.I wish I had a way to prove the letter was fake.If only I had?—
A gasp rips through me.My hands dive into the bust of my gown.Beneath the tight boning and stiff fabric, I find what I’m looking for.The parchment crunches against my fingers as I pull it from beneath my breast.
