Page 58 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)
This admission was all she needed. “And that is how you ended up here, is it not? You dragged yourself to Rennes because you knew that you would tear an entire castle apart to find me in your thirst and turmoil. You might have started a war yourself.” She took everything he had thrown at her at the inn as her own ammunition now.
“You weren’t sure what you’d end up doing if you set so much as a foot west, so here you are. Cowering in the corner of a brothel.”
It was evident his own reasoning being proved unsound displeased him. Garin held his tongue, though she could tell by his shallow breathing and glare that his words would not be kind.
“It is true,” she continued, “if I hadn’t felt the undeniable urge to come and find you tonight, I would have gone on to meet the Austrian count who has requested my attention.
My parents received a letter, announcing his arrival from the Holy Roman Empire tomorrow.
” She savored the subtle shock that flashed across his face.
“To think I might’ve been propositioned by him while you ravaged the city, striking my capital down with yet another Raid.
This one, inflicted by you, and you alone. This endless hunger you feel.”
She braced for his reaction to her particularly low jab.
Garin absorbed it, and if it angered him, it didn’t show.
He seemed to still be processing the vital information regarding Albrecht’s letter, but his lack of response annoyed her.
“But then, in your eagerness to be rid of me the other morning, I’m not sure you considered what it would mean for me to be married to someone else.
If not then, it certainly should be taken into consideration now, with whatever magic has bound us?—”
“There is no bond,” he snapped, echoing her own denial when she’d spoken to Casmir.
“It doesn’t matter that you are convinced that this is so outside the realm of what is possible; you are oblivious to what’s been happening. I don’t have to tell you how miserable the last three days have been.”
Garin looked to the floor.
“I don’t have to tell you how I struggled with restlessness, distracted even as I tried to carry out my daily tasks, and those you commanded of me.
I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. It wasn’t food I hungered for.
It was not subtle. Everyone noticed. They tested me for pregnancy.
” A lump had formed at her throat, and a slow and cadenced anger had seeped into his expression.
She’d felt violated by everyone , needing help, all while trying to keep them out—keep what had happened a secret.
Blame laced her twisted features as she remembered how terrible it was to be away from him.
The thought now made her ache, even as she was so upset with him.
His voice was hoarse. “You should have been able to do what I asked. ”
“I did. And still, I suffered. And so did you.”
For once, Garin was speechless as he watched the shadows dance across her bare body. She suddenly felt very naked before him.
Lilac crossed her arms over her chest. “Simply look to the future that you have demanded of me. You might have been able to stomach the idea of sharing me with a king before ordering me away. But how does that thought fare now ?” she stared him down as he digested her words one by one.
“I told you, I…” He trailed off, perhaps struck at the thought.
His eyes darkened. “There will be no sharing of any kind, regardless of what happens. Your duty to your kingdom and their fealty to you remain. They are just that—duties you must fulfill in order to ensure the safety of your kingdom, at least long enough for Francois to realize he cannot annex you.”
“Long enough?” she said, intentionally playing into what she hoped were his deepest concerns. “So I am to play the part of someone else’s wife while you are able to take of me as you want? As shall whomever secures my hand?”
“Lilac, that is not what this is.”
“But what if Albrecht offers me his hand tomorrow?”
He watched her, expressionless. “That is likely to be the case.”
“What if he is kind?” she pushed. “What if he is a good and loving husband? A patient and protective father one day?”
He took a hesitant step toward her, his arm extending at the elbow as if he wished to stroke her face. He stopped himself. “I want you to have all the things that fulfill you. That you deserve. All the things I cannot give you, Lilac. That is what I want.”
She’d meant her inquiry to hurt him, to draw blood. His response was the last thing she expected—an echo of what he’d reassured her at the inn when they’d fought. None of his reassurances brought her peace, not then and not now.
“I am too young and inexperienced to know the things I want and require to be fulfilled as queen, Garin. As a woman, even. But I do know one thing well. I will not be cornered or coerced into giving my life or womb to anyone. Marriage sounds horrid, but if I ever do marry, I will do it on my own terms. For love, and not under your or anyone’s demands.
I do not care what is at stake; if Brocéliande wants to be saved, they will stand with me, and I will work with my people to do the same.
No one, not even you will force my hand.
Your sanguine magic will kill me before I do so. ”
“Will it?” Garin was laughing. It was menacing and quiet, a warning sound her body shrank away from even as her core still ached for him.
Lilac resisted the shocking urge to jump onto him again, even as he stared her down, still fully erect, bloodied, his fangs glistening.
“To be freed of your torment is a gift I’d welcome with open arms.” Garin took one unsure step toward her.
Then another, as if retraining his reflexes to approach her with gentleness.
“Then why not be done with it now?” Lilac mirrored his movement, backing away. The balcony door was visible from the corner of her vision. “I’ll have you know, I look forward to meeting that Austrian count tomorrow, just to tell him to get back onto his fucking horse and go to he?—”
Lilac’s heel caught onto something, causing her to lose her balance. She teetered before plopping down, the impact softened by what she expected to be cloth, or a bagged bushel of something.
She rolled on her side to push herself up, and instead of meeting cloth or rye, her hand met something else—cold and unmoving. Rigid, but soft. A hand , streaked with blood along with the body attached to it.
A pile of corpses. She’d landed on them.
Lilac opened her mouth in a stifled scream and actually yelped when two hands yanked her up from under her arms. Garin’s hands were off her the moment she was righted.
“You,” she couldn’t help but say, looking down at the mess before her.
Four bodies—two women and two men, their clothes askew in ribbons around them—laid in a tangle of limbs on the floor before the open closet. They were gray in pallor, their throats mangled, their skin torn open.
Lilac scuttled back, startling as she bumped into Garin.
“They were the original occupants of this room. I fell upon them as soon as I opened the door.” His hair was wild, his clothes half off his body. Instead of a fallen angel, Garin looked like a disgruntled demon who had accidentally stumbled out of hell and was most displeased by it.
She pivoted and retreated from his unruly stare, trying not to look at the corpses behind him.
Garin began to follow her, head low, eyes black and tracking her every movement as he soaked in the aroma of panic that must’ve been pouring from her body.
She was running out of time. She hoped he could sense her extreme annoyance and anger under the fear, hoped he knew she would fight back.
Lilac began to shift toward the door that led to the hall, but he was suddenly before it.
“Together we would bring your kingdom to ruin.” His hands went back, bracing himself against the door. “Do not tempt me any further.”
What would she do now, if any quick movement might solidify her demise?
He couldn’t follow her out of one of the doors if he kept blocking her exit.
If she moved toward the balcony, he’d do the same.
Lilac stood in the middle of the room, the bed behind her, the hearth and settee to her left, and the only other exit of the balcony door on her right. Past the corpses and open closet.
As she considered her options, Garin surveyed her throat—which still slowly bled onto her front.
How could she win? They’d continue in this dangerous dance of sex and blood, lust and Garin’s hunger, until one instinct won out—and if she didn’t act fast, there’d be no chance for her or her kingdom.
If her lineage ended tonight, with her, Francois would have his way with her kingdom.
She and Garin were trapped between the effects of the Dragondew Mead and the magic that held them close. Whatever it was, something awaited them on the other side.
“Or perhaps we’d make it whole,” she countered, refusing to let the dread and nausea overtake her as she rode the fear. “Because even in the shadows, here we are, cornered. Drugged, aroused beyond comprehension, standing over your corpses—and still fighting for each other.”
Still hungry for each other , a small voice in the back of her head echoed. What better drove leaders, warlords—poor and rich, human and Daemon—than hunger?
She darted toward the hearth.
Garin was merciful in restraining himself enough to not run after her.
Beat her there. She thought it’d be worse, the consequences of actually running from him, as he’d warned her before not to do.
Still, she scrambled, sweeping her hand across the settee cushion and peering over.
Where was the scalpel? Her dagger? The most useful thing it did, besides vibrate at impending danger for the wielder, was to appear magically on her body at times of need. It did not do so now .