She pulled away then and wiped her eyes hastily. "Oh, Kie..." she said with a shaky voice. She once again pressed his wet shirt to his face. He reached up to touch her blood tainted hair.
"It's bad?" he asked weakly. "I've never had blood come out of me like that before," he said. He sounded as scared as she had.
"I just got scared when you fainted," she said quietly.
"I'm sorry." He sat himself up slowly and took over the pressing of the shirt from her.
She let her hand drop into her lap.
"I didn't mean for..." she began.
"Shh..." He put a finger to her lips. "We'll never speak of it again. Do you promise?" He took his hand away for her to answer.
She stared down for a minute, wrestling with her thoughts.
"I wouldn't want people to know I fainted," he said quietly, with a grin on his face, to reassure her.
She cracked a smile then and looked shyly at him.
"Promise." He spoke sternly.
"I do," she said. "I promise."
"Good girl," he said affectionately, then put his hand on her head as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. She stared at the ground still and he gently put his hand under her chin and brought her face up to look at his.
She made herself look him in the eye then and his face was so kind, she felt relief spill over her. He didn't hate her. He sat there looking hopefully at her with that silly blood spattered shirt pressed to his cheek. She smiled a bittersweet smile at him, then reached for the shirt. "Here," she said. She gently turned him around and laid him back down, this time with his head in her lap.
She pressed the rumpled shirt firmly against his cut and ran her fingers lovingly through his hair. He gave her a grateful look, then relaxed and let his eyes close.
The memories were so vivid now, Isabel thought as she stood shivering on that snowy hill. The crisp air had begun to bite at her skin and she felt it was time to go back. She gave the south one last longing look, then began trudging her way back to the castle.
Chapter 18
Isabel's curiosity got the better of her one day. She had to find out what Kie and Nole were up to. She decided it was time for her to take a ride again. She never thought of Devon now if she could help it. So she would just think of riding the way she always had and try to forget that they had been about to ride the day he left.
Early one morning, after breakfast, she put on her warmest riding outfit and tromped through the crisp snow to the stables. The air was still and made her skin tingle. It was an unusually cold morning, but she was determined to do this.
She pushed open the stable door and saw complete darkness. She let her eyes adjust to the dimness. Around her stood a neatly kept stable, everything in its place. And not a person in sight.
But this was all right, she thought. She certainly knew how to get a horse ready herself. She wouldn't be able to talk to either of them, but perhaps when she returned. She took a deep breath and set about her work. The saddle was heavy, she had forgotten that about saddles. She somehow hoisted it up onto the horse, though, and then stood, out of breath, mumbling to herself with her hands on her hips, "Never seemed this hard before..."
Suddenly she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. It was two feet swinging down from the loft above her head.
"Trouble?" Nole asked kindly as he climbed down the ladder to the ground.
"Uh..." She was speechless from the surprise of finding him there. She'd had an audience the entire time. How embarrassing! "Uh, no," she said finally.
"I can help, anyway, since I'm down," he said matter of factly and picked up the tack and got to work. She helped him and together they got the horse ready to ride. Neither said a word as they worked.
When Nole was done, he smoothed his hand down the horse's neck and stood for a moment, as if deciding something. "Want company?" he asked without looking at her.
"Okay."
He brought out another horse and together they prepared it also. They were both still very quiet and it was becoming awkward.
Finally she turned to him as if to say something, but at the same time he had opened his mouth to speak. They laughed nervously.
"You first," he said politely.
"Oh, I didn't... go ahead," she said.
He looked at his shoes. "I just wanted to say—I mean I wanted you to know I'd never—I mean, the other night I didn't intend—" He stopped himself abruptly and took a breath. This time he spoke slower. "I don't want you to think I would take liberties like that with you, being betrothed to Devon and him away and me supposed to be protecting you..." he trailed off. "I'm very sorry it happened and I was not myself." He looked at her then, but couldn't hold her gaze. "I'm sorry," he said again.
"It's all right," she said, relieved that he had been brave enough to bring up the subject. "I wasn't myself either," she said quietly.
"So, everything's all right?" he asked.
"Yes," she said and smiled. Then she cleared her throat. "Shall we ride?" she asked, to change the subject.
He nodded and helped her onto her horse.
From then on, their relationship went on as if that snowy kiss had never happened. They were friends again and they grew closer than they had been. He knew her as well as anyone now, as well as Kie, and better than Devon she often scolded herself for thinking. Devon loved her and he knew her well enough, and he would return soon. Any day, she told herself.
She'd wake every morning with the idea in her head, "This could be the day." She imagined the scene over and over. She'd be taking a long walk and then he'd appear over the crest of a hill and she'd run to him and hold him and never let him go. And it didn't matter what he said, only that he was in her arms again, alive and loving her... She'd change and vary this fantasy, but she thought it in one form or another every single day. And every single night she took to bed with her that day's little piece of disappointment when her love did not return.
She was so caught up in herself and her worry over Devon that she completely forgot all else. Everyone else and their troubles. And when Zenie actually ran into her room shouting, "He's come back! He's come back!" she immediately thought of Devon and with a sudden burst of shock felt herself buckle into the nearest chair.
"What?" she almost whispered.
"It's Valen! He's alive!" Zenie squealed and then bolted back out of the room.
Isabel felt her head spin as she realized the meaning of Zenie's words. It's Valen... it's Valen... it's Valen... She heard Zenie's clattered footsteps echo down the stairs as she ran to meet her master.
Isabel put a hand on her forehead and took a deep breath. Of course, it's Valen, she thought. Of course. How selfish of her to forget that he too was away and in danger from her father's army. But he had returned. She felt bad for feeling disappointed that it was not Devon. Then it dawned on her: Valen had returned. He was here right now, in this castle.
"Oh, my God, Valen," she said to herself and sprang to her feet. She found herself clamoring down the stairs just as Zenie had done.
She didn't even know where he would be, but she followed the sound of voices and found herself rushing toward the parlor and bursting in to find Nole and Zenie and Kie and other servants crowding around a chair by the fire.
Nole turned as she sped into the room and caught her eye. He smiled slightly and moved away from where he stood to reveal a tired old man sitting in a parlor chair. All chattering came to a halt as Valen's eyes fell upon Isabel and his words ended abruptly.
"Isabel..." he choked out and she found herself going to him and falling to the floor on her knees to grasp his hands and kiss them.
Slowly and quietly the servants left the room to leave the two of them alone. Isabel had her face buried in his hands and couldn't bear to look at him. She had not thought of him nearly enough or worried over him nearly enough. When he had gone, she had tried not to think of him at all, not to feel his loss, the possibility that he might n
ever return.
Seeing him now brought back to her her love for him. All the feelings she had buried deep within herself to avoid the pain of it all.
She raised her head to look at him. He looked older, a little more tired, but his eyes were as bright as they always had been. She knew that he was all right, without asking. He was so alive and so real, sitting there.
He pushed the hair back from her face lovingly and said her name again, "Isabel."
"Valen..." She wanted to say so much, but nothing came. She couldn't say it all now and she wouldn't try. It was just too much.
He understood this and suddenly rose to his feet, helping her to do the same. Without words he opened his arms and looked at her. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her tight. They had said all they needed to.
Chapter 19
That winter passed as the one before it had. Isabel was relatively happy. She and Valen fell back into their daily routine of walks and talks and an occasional ride. He refused to tell Isabel any of the details of his wartime experiences. Isabel was not altogether against this, except she suspected that her mind would create imaginary war stories far more horrifying than Valen's actual experience.
There were times now when he would grow quiet and say nothing for a while. They would sit or walk in silence, and she never asked him what was wrong.
Valen told her fairly soon after his return that he knew of her identity. It was a story going around the soldiers' camps that Eret's fair-haired daughter had run away from him. Valen had fortunately not mentioned his new ward before he heard this news. He was utterly shocked to find it out, however, he told her. And no one to share it with, no way to be sure, and yet in his heart he knew.
He approached the subject with her delicately, not knowing whether or not her memory had returned. But he soon found that it had. She was glad to see he already knew who she was and it was all settled easily.
Valen was curious as to what she'd done while he was away, surprised to hear of her engagement to Mr. Gabriel, and saddened by its outcome. He was also interested in hearing about her friend Kie, and how he'd come to the castle.
Kie and Nole spent most of their time together now in an easy camaraderie. Isabel didn't see Kie nearly as much as she thought she would when he returned, and was always surprised to bump into him.
One day in the spring, she took a walk into the woods. It was early in the season and the air still had a chill to it. The ground was still damp. The trees were black in this rich atmosphere and she wove between them carefully, putting her hands on their slippery trunks as she passed.
It had rained recently and the ground was wet. Drops were still falling from the branches where they had collected earlier. The bottom of her dress was getting heavy and soaked, but she kept walking happily, humming as she went.
He must have been just sitting there, because she had not heard him approach. She heard him clear his throat to her left and nearly jumped a foot in the air.
"God!" she cried and put her hand to her heart. "You scared me!"
He grinned slightly and wove a flexible twig between his fingers and just looked at her.
She looked back, but then she became nervous at his intense stare. "What are you doing here, Kie?" she asked finally.
"Just thinking." He shook his head and looked to the ground. "About you."
"Oh..." she muttered. "What about me?" she asked with too much cheeriness.
His eyes darted back up to look at her, sharp and blue. "Mandra," he began, "You know—" he couldn't finish.
"What?" she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I just don't think he's coming back."
She felt a chill rush over her as his words hit her ears. She felt a lump in her throat suddenly, and her body became tense. "Who?" she asked politely, feigning ignorance.
He looked her squarely in the eyes, still twirling the twig. "Devon."
She took a deep breath to control the anger that had come over her when he spoke. "I don't think anyone can say that for certain, Kie," she managed to get out.
He just shook his head and looked down again. Then she, because she didn't want to yell at him or because she didn't want to admit he was right, resumed her winding walk through the trees, blinking back tears as she went.
Damn him! she thought to herself. Just when she had finally felt it all right to even hope he was alive, Kie was trying to crush her spirits. Why would he try to hurt her like that? It wasn't fair and it certainly wasn't true. Devon would not leave her like that, forever. Things just didn't happen that way. They loved each other. They must be together. People didn't just disappear like that!
She was still fuming with these thoughts in her head, when she heard a twig snap behind her. She stopped abruptly, but refused to turn around, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her in tears. But what if, she asked herself, it were Devon? Just finding his way back, seeing her enter the woods, sneaking up behind her... whispering in her ear... putting his arms around her, "It's all right... I'm back... it's all right now..."
She turned slowly around to find Kie looking at her with genuine pity on his face. Rare for him to let her see something like that. So unusual, and so uncalled for, she thought...
He stood still, inviting her to him with his eyes. Drawing her in against her will. She missed Kie... She found herself stepping towards him and his hands went out to her, pulled her to him. She let him and her arms went around him. He held her close and she needed that more than she needed anything else, even if he didn't understand her.
He pushed her away tenderly, and put his hands on her cheeks. She began to shake her head and whisper "No..." but he did it anyway. He kissed her tenderly on the lips and she resisted, but he pressed his lips to hers anyway, and pulled her body close to him. He kissed her face, her cheek, her hair... he whispered in her ear, "You see... you see how perfect it is with us..." and he kissed her ear.
She was mesmerized by him, by the fact that it was Kie doing all these things, touching her like this. The boy she'd known and loved since childhood. His hair that smelled so sweet, his lips she couldn't tear herself away from... but she did, finally.
It was hard to untangle herself from him. They did seem to fit together perfectly. But something was wrong. Everything was wrong. There was just nothing quite right here. That was all she knew, and in another minute she'd have let him take her anywhere and do anything he wanted. She feared that in herself and she took a step back from him and leaned against a tree. One arm still held him back, one hand still on his chest, feeling his warmth, tempting her.
He tried to lean in again to kiss her, but she turned her face away and pushed him with both hands, gently, away. "It's not right," she said.
He moved his head, trying to find her eyes with his, trying to look right at her. "What could be more right than this?" he practically begged her. "We are right together," he proclaimed. "We belong together, not you and him, you and me. Us... Mandra," he touched her face, "it's always been us..."
She shook her head stubbornly. "I'm promised to someone else," she said clearly.
He stood a moment, then quietly took his hand away from her face, took the other hand off her hand resting on his chest. Her hand fell to her side. He said nothing as he mechanically turned back and walked away from her.
She didn't watch him go, only stared at the ground, at the toes of her shoes peeping out from under her dress. Her heart lingered on what had just happened, even while her head struggled to forget it completely.
It would be so much easier to stay true to Devon if Devon were actually here, she kept telling herself in frustration. Every beautiful spring day that came and went without his return turned her heart a little colder.
It rained a lot that spring. She and Valen spent many hours in the library by the fire, reading, talking, or sitting in silence.
Nole and Kie stayed close to the stables, and both slept there, in the loft. She saw little of e
ither. The gloom of a continuously dark sky, along with Kie's foreboding words: "I just don't think he's coming back" put her in a terribly agitated state. Not sadness as much as anxiety. A thought, a question, began to circle in her mind, "How long should I wait?" or "How can I be sure he won't return?" Should she spend the rest of her life pining away for a man who may be... dead? She shuddered to even think the word. What if she sat here forever, pushing away the affections of others only so she could cuddle up at night with the fading memory of a man she had once loved? Still loved, she meant to say.
What if he were dead? She asked herself. What if it were all right to go to someone else? To start a life with someone else? Their life... but how could she? Even if he were dead and gone forever, how could she ever love another man?
But hadn't she felt how—just a few weeks ago in the woods with Kie... She wanted to feel alive like that again, the way she used to feel every time she looked at Devon, black hair falling onto his forehead, no matter how he tried to arrange it so it wouldn't.
How could she ever forget the details of one man, to make room for the details of another? How could one man's words and kiss replace another's? Ever? There was no way this could be. If love existed, then it continued to exist, it did not end. He was alive somewhere. He had to be, her love for him was still alive... or her need for him anyway. She needed for him to be here for her, to make the decision easy for her. She couldn't stand to be wrong about this. To decide whether or not to betray a man she'd promised her life to.
The answer must be 'no'. Of course, it must be 'no'. That was logical. A promise is a promise. And loneliness is loneliness, she thought bitterly to herself. And what is there to a life filled with nothing but old books, and a warm fire? Was she an old woman now, waiting patiently for death to come and claim her? Like the old man sitting next to her almost nodding off into his history book?
She studied Valen as he blinked his eyes back open and took a firmer grip on his book. He adjusted his spectacles with one hand and settled back into his reading. Could this be life? she asked herself. Could this be all it meant? she wondered. Just a string of days made up of small unchallenging activities? Things that people do just to do something?