Page 12
Chapter Twelve
Marek
I wake before dawn, the faint light of the moon casting silvery shadows across the room. Stella is curled up beside me, her warm, soft body pressed against mine. Her breathing is deep and even, a gentle, soothing rhythm. I watch her for a moment as I brush a stray curl from her cheek. She stirs but doesn’t wake, murmuring something incomprehensible before snuggling closer.
It’s the day before the wedding already. The last two weeks have passed in a blur, yet every moment feels seared into my memory as vivid as a dream, and I never want to wake.
Stella’s quick wit and playful sarcasm match Valen’s dry humor, making them a formidable duo when it comes to teasing me. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve found myself laughing despite myself, their mischief disarming in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.
She’s gotten into the habit of massaging my shoulders at the end of the day, her deft hands easing the knots from hours of training and tension. And then there are the notes she leaves—playful little reminders that appear in the oddest places. Like the one tucked into my sword belt, scrawled in her loopy handwriting: Don’t forget to smile today. You’re better-looking when you do.
Falling into a routine with her and Valen has been so effortless it’s unnerving. Days filled with carefully choreographed performances for the royal family, nights lost to passionate abandon.
She doesn’t try to belong with us—she simply does.
It’s as though she’s always been here, sliding seamlessly into the spaces neither Valen nor I realized we’d left open.
My thoughts drift to the night before. Stella, her thighs trembling as she straddled my face, her hands tangled in my hair as I devoured her sweet cunt, pulling cries of pleasure from her that echoed through the room. Valen had been behind her, his lean, powerful frame pressed against hers as he drove his thick cock deep inside me. His hands had gripped her hips as we moved in perfect harmony, driving each other higher, driving each other toward bliss.
I’ve been with Valen so long that I forgot the things I enjoy about a woman. The softness of Stella’s curves beneath my hands, the floral sweetness of her scent, the way her taste lingers on my tongue like the finest wine. And none of that diminishes what I feel for Valen. It’s a different kind of fire but no less consuming. I’ll never stop loving his strength, the rough scrape of his scruff against my neck, or the way his scent—a blend of cedar and leather—wraps around me like a well-worn cloak.
I realize Valen isn’t in bed. Carefully, I extricate myself from Stella’s embrace, tucking the blankets around her so she won’t get cold. She murmurs in her sleep, her lips curving into a soft, contented smile, and it strikes me again how easily she’s come to feel like home. I slip on a pair of loose trousers and a shirt, padding barefoot through the quiet cottage in search of him.
I find him outside, sitting on the steps with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. The cool night air carries the scent of dew and distant wildflowers, mingling with the faint smoke from last night’s fire. Valen’s profile is etched in the dim light, his expression unreadable as he stares at the paper. I approach quietly and lower myself onto the step beside him.
“You’re up early,” I remark, my voice soft enough not to shatter the calm.
Valen glances at me, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might pass for a smile. “Couldn’t sleep.” He holds up the parchment. “This came late last night.”
I take it, and my eyes scan the brief but unsettling message. It confirms what we’d feared: Elara has been sold at a pawn auction to a man named Lord Tathame. She was seen at Lady Clayton’s Mabon Festival, but since then, no one in the Kingdom of Pentacles has reported sightings.
“You’ll have to tell her,” I say, handing the paper back.
Valen nods, his jaw flexing as his fingers curl tightly around the parchment. “She’ll worry.”
“Of course she will.” I lean back on my hands, tilting my head to look at the faint glimmer of stars still visible in the early morning sky. “But she’s stronger than you give her credit for. We’ll reassure her, and once the wedding is behind us, we’ll go after Elara together. With your resources, it won’t take long to find this Tathame and free Elara from his service.”
Valen exhales a long breath, and the tension in his shoulders eases slightly, but his gaze remains distant, fixed on the horizon. I study him for a moment before speaking again.
“You’ve already fallen for her.”
Valen’s exhale is sharp, almost a laugh. “Haven’t you?”
I curse under my breath and reach for the glass of whiskey in his hand. He lets it go without protest, and I down the remainder in one burning swig. The liquor scorches a path down my throat, but it does nothing to dull the truth.
I’ve fallen for Stella.
I’d never thought it possible to feel for anyone the way I feel for Valen, but Stella slipped into my heart without me even noticing.
She doesn’t fit into my world, not the way Valen does. She’s the bloom of wildflowers in a battlefield—unexpected, beautiful, and utterly at odds with the life I’ve built. But damn it, I don’t want her to leave. The thought of her walking out of our lives, of this fleeting perfection shattering into something I can’t repair… It’s unbearable.
“Perhaps she is a sorceress,” Valen jokes, though his voice lacks its usual sharpness. “That’s the only explanation. To fell both of us as she has?”
I smirk and shake my head. “Me definitely. But I saw the writing on the wall with you the moment you carried her here. Like bringing home a stray.”
Valen turns to me with a raised brow, feigning offense. “You make it sound as though I have a history in that respect.”
“You do,” I counter with a chuckle and lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “You forget I’ve known you since the beginning. I was there when you convinced the king and queen to take me in after my parents died so I wouldn’t end up in the orphanage in the southern province. And that’s not even mentioning the random animals you’ve rescued over the years. You’ve always had a bleeding heart, Valen.”
He shakes his head.. “Not this time. Not when it came to her,” he mutters, his voice quieter now. “When Stella first arrived, I wasn’t thinking about her—about who she was or what this would mean for her. I was thinking only of myself. Of you and me and what she could do for us. I would have used her, Marek. Used her to protect us. And it’s not right. It never was.” His gaze drops to the ground, and he exhales as though saying the truth out loud might physically hurt. “I never gave her a choice. Not really. And now, no matter what happens, she’ll leave. She’ll walk away, and I’ll deserve it.” His words hit harder than I expect, and they steal my breath. I turn to Valen, cupping his jaw and forcing him to meet my gaze. I kiss him slowly, deeply, pouring everything I can’t bring myself to say into the connection.
Valen responds in kind, his hand sliding up to grip my arm, holding me in place as our mouths move together. When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against his and close my eyes to keep the ache at bay.
“You’re a good man, Valen,” I murmur, the words breaking free before I can hold them back. “I’m going to miss you.”
His grip tightens slightly, his voice a low rumble as he replies, “You’ll still be the captain of my guard. You’ll be with me day and night, Marek. On the training field, in the council chamber, at my side always.” His tone softens, but there’s an edge of desperation beneath it. “You won’t be far from me. You never are.”
Slowly, I stand, the space between us yawning open like a wound. I keep my distance, though every part of me aches to close it, to reach for him. But I can’t. I won’t. “You know what I mean, Valen,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “You know I’ll have to stay away.”
Valen’s jaw tightens, his blue eyes flashing with anger and something far more vulnerable. He rises to his feet, but he doesn’t say anything, so I keep going, the words dragging out of me like a blade from my chest.
“The Law of Honor and Perception isn’t just a rule—it’s who you are. It’s who we are as a kingdom. If we give in, if we let this…us…take precedence, it wouldn’t just be a betrayal of your vows. It would be a betrayal of the kingdom.” I take a step closer, hating myself for the way his gaze softens, for the hope that flickers across his face even as I keep my hands fisted at my sides. “You’re more than a prince. You’re a symbol of Swords.”
Valen’s hand shoots out, gripping my wrist before I can move away. He pulls me close, and suddenly the space between us vanishes. “I know what I am, Marek. But none of it means anything if I don’t have you.”
His words crack something deep inside me, but I fight to keep my composure, swallowing the ache that threatens to spill over. “Valen…” My voice falters, and I force myself to continue. “If anyone, even for a moment, doubts your ability to lead because of me, because of us, I would never forgive myself.”
I take a step back, my hand brushing his arm before I pull away entirely. It feels like tearing a part of my soul from my body, and I have to clench my fists to keep from reaching for him again. His eyes widen, hurt flashing across his face as he takes a half step toward me, but I hold up a hand to stop him.
“Don’t,” I say, my voice trembling. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
His jaw tightens, the muscle ticking with restraint.
I pause, swallowing against the lump rising in my throat. “I love you. Gods, you know I do.” The words come out thick with emotion, and Valen’s shoulders tense like he’s bracing for a blow. “But that’s why I have to stay away from you, from your bed. Because loving you means protecting you, even from this. Especially from this.”
Valen stares at me, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath, his blue eyes stormy. For a moment, I think he might argue, might pull me back to him, but instead, he exhales and turns his gaze toward the horizon.
“I hate you for what you’re going to do,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “But gods help me, Marek, I love you for it too.”
Without another word, I turn and walk away. Each step feels like a betrayal, a denial of everything I want but cannot have. I don’t look back. I can’t. If I see his face again, if I catch the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes, I’ll break. And I can’t afford to break. Not now. Not ever.
Behind me, the sound of glass shattering, the whiskey tumbler meeting its end against the stone steps. It’s a sharp, final note that echoes in the early morning quiet. But still, I don’t stop.
When I reach the edge of the garden, I glance up at the sky where the first rays of dawn begin to streak the clouds with gold and rose. A new day is coming, full of duty and sacrifice, and I’ll face it the only way I know how.
By putting Valen first. Always. Even if it means losing myself in the process.