Page 39
Story: The Darkest Oath
The confidence in Hugo’s discussion of his trade grated against Rollant’s resolve as he realized Hugo reminded him of himself long ago, before the Crusade, before the oath, before the curse stripped him of his innocence.
He, too, spoke with certainty in all things before God as he trained as a squire and became a knight.
Hugo, he assumed, would be suitable for élise as a husband, provider, father, and friend, for Hugo would never be calloused by unending time.
Hugo’s boyish enthusiasm lit up the room.
He must have told a joke; élise laughed a genuine laugh.
Everyone chuckled in the room, and Rollant followed suit, as if he had been listening intently.
But he sipped the last of his tea soon thereafter to soothe the sharp sting in his chest. How many generations had he seen come and go on this land?
How many lives had flourished under his care while he remained unchanged?
He’d watched Jacq’s ancestors grow from struggling farmers to the respected neighbors they were now.
He could take pride in that, at least. His gaze lingered on élise’s guarded smile, growing soft under Hugo’s attention.
He’d given his heart away, only to see another claim it.
That was his curse—the curse of revenge.
Breakfast ended, and Hugo agreed to come over with his sisters after Rollant left. élise cleaned up while Rollant walked the family to the door. Camille and the children exited, but Jacq stayed behind to speak with Rollant.
“I know I was a child, but from my memory, you look so much like your father,” Jacq murmured with nostalgia. His gaze lingered on Rollant as if the resemblance unraveled decades.
The weight of the man’s words settled on Rollant’s shoulders. “ You look so much like your father ”—the same sentiment came more times than he cared to remember, spoken with reverence and gratitude, only to be met with countless lies in return.
Rollant forced a smile and spoke the lie. “I’ve heard that once or twice.”
Jacq chuckled, shaking his head and studying Rollant’s face. “The resemblance is uncanny, though. Same eyes, same chin. I suppose good deeds and strong features run in the family.”
Jacq remembered a man who never existed, an illusion crafted by Rollant to account for his unchanging face and decades of guardianship.
To the people of Charonne, he was a legacy—a dutiful son who continued his father’s work before him.
They didn’t see the truth: there was no father, no passing of the torch.
There was only him, pretending to belong to a mortal world that would never be his.
Rollant cleared his throat. “A family trait, I suppose.” His tone was careful. He patted Jacq’s shoulder as he passed over the home’s threshold.
Jacq leaned in and whispered, “I do apologize for Camille. I asked her not to say anything, and I hope she hasn’t ruined the introduction.”
“No need for apologies. I’m sure she wants to see her son happy. Not too many young women here, I suppose.”
“No, not many, and she refuses to let him go to the city. Too expensive and too much turmoil there.”
“Yes, I agree with her on that. Don’t let your son go to the city for his safety.”
Rollant ended the conversation and closed the door behind Jacq. The bar lowered into place. He took a deep breath before spinning around and finding élise with her arms crossed.
“What was that?” she asked.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and hid it with a shrug. “What?”
“Did you bring them here to have that poor woman showcase her son as a suitor?”
That was exactly what he had done, but he shook his head. “He gave us double the mint and sage I had asked for, élise. I asked them over to thank them and to introduce you to their family and the community’s herbalist. His mother had another agenda, it appeared.”
She stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “You let her build up hope for her son. You didn’t say anything. You almost pushed me into his arms.”
“I will be leaving in a few days. It is better if I do not let my feelings for you complicate whatever life you have ahead of yourself. You should not see me as anything other than a helping hand. But Hugo, he will be here. He is your age.”
“And you are not?”
“I’m almost seven years older than you.”
Her arms fell to fists by her sides. “Do you think I’m not mature enough? Or is it that you’ve already decided my life for me? That I’m better off with someone like Hugo because you’re too afraid of what we could be?”
“No, élise, that’s not?—”
“You want me to believe this is about what’s best for me, but it’s not.” She crossed her arms, her chin lifting in defiance. “It’s about your poor decision to follow a king that cares nothing for anyone.”
Rollant flinched, her words cutting deeper than he thought possible.
She continued, unrelenting. “I’m not broken, Rollant. I’m not some fragile piece of glass you can protect by walking away. I want you in my life, and I won’t apologize for it.”
“élise, stop.” His stomach turned. “You only care for me because I have cared for you. Did Hugo not show you the same care I have shown you? He is a kind, good man, better than I am. He is innocent and doesn’t have blood on his hands.
He heals the sick, and I kill the hardy.
A man like him would never leave you. He would make his oaths wisely. ”
Tears brimmed her eyes. He regretted speaking the last statement. He rubbed his mouth and dropped his gaze, unable to see the pain he’d caused with his words.
“I am only saying there are other good men, élise.” He found her gaze. “Men you can have a happy life with, should you choose to want a life with one.”
She spun around and marched across the main room. After she entered the bedroom, she yelled, “I want you to stay, Rollant! Is that clear enough for you?” before slamming the door.
“I want to stay as well,” he murmured, rolling his sleeves to finish washing the dishes. “But it cannot be.”
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