Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Tansy’s concerned face was before him, and the weight on his chest remained, almost crushing. He needed to move. To pace. To do something before he revealed the depths of his madness to her.
“Why did you not tell me?” she asked softly.
And he couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t stand here in the cold mists with her giving him a look of such raw tenderness when he didn’t deserve it, his secret in desperate danger of being revealed.
“Why should I have done?” he bit out, the hair rising on the back of his neck, his skin prickling.
It was coming.
He didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t want her to know. Talking about Mina’s death was like pulling a trigger on the pistol of his sanity.
Tansy’s countenance changed instantly, the tenderness giving way to hurt.
Her shoulders stiffened. “Indeed, you should not have done. Your past is yours alone, Your Majesty. Forgive me.”
She dipped into a half curtsy that was wholly unlike her.
And then she flitted past him, leaving him standing alone as the mist turned into rain and his mind splintered into a thousand tiny shards.
CHAPTER 15
Tansy stood before the window in her new chamber at the Palace of Tayrnes in the Varros capital city, staring down at the sprawling gardens below. The voyage to Varros had been arduous and long. She had spent the journey aboard the ship with Princess Anastasia, who had been struck with dreadful seasickness.
They had arrived the day before to much rejoicing and fanfare. Streets crowded with revelers eager to catch a peek of their new queen. A carriage procession from the port to the palace, escorted by armed guards dressed in ceremonial finery. The spectacle had been tremendous.
Had she not been nursing a broken heart, Tansy might have delighted in the enthusiasm of the crowds, their arrival in a strange and new kingdom that felt a great deal like her home in Boritania, only different. Warmer. Wilder.
It was Maxim’s home.
And it had certainly felt that way as they had progressed to the bold, beautiful capital with its ancient architecture mixed with stunning new edifices. It was large, it was aloof, it was filled with mysteries she had yet to unlock. The capital took her breath just as the king who ruled over it did.
She was, without question, miserable here.
Miserable as the princess’s lady-in-waiting—or Stasia, as her friend had convinced her to call her during the terrible sea passage. Miserable knowing that all too soon, her friend would be marrying the man she loved.
A man who had turned into a cold, harsh stranger that day in London when she had spoken to him of his dead wife. She had gone too far, she knew. But the knowledge had been too new and fresh, and after all she had shared with Maxim, she had naively believed he would open himself to her.
He hadn’t.
They had parted that day as the mists gave way to lashing rain, and they had not been alone again since. Soon, they had left England for Varros, Maxim eager for his plan of aiding Prince Theodoric in a Boritanian rebellion against King Gustavson. Their departure had been cloaked in secrecy. The sole relief had been in escaping Gustavson’s guards, who had returned to Boritania at Maxim’s demand. They had been allowed to proceed to Varros unescorted by anyone other than Maxim’s men.
Her chamber had been laden with gifts upon her arrival. Books, a fur, an ivory fan, a pair of gloves, a sapphire parure, even a handsome hat. Gifts of welcome. Or gifts of farewell. Gifts from Maxim? She couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that they left her feeling hollow.
A knock sounded at her door, the rapid thumps jarring her from her thoughts.
She turned away from the window and the palace gardens, which were resplendent even in winter. Because naturally everything in Maxim’s court, including the man himself, was nothing short of magnificent.
“Come,” she called, expecting one of the servants who had been assigned to her.
At home in Boritania, Tansy had not been afforded a servant that was solely hers. But here in Varros, as the lady-in-waiting to the future queen, she had been given three servants. It was an astonishing excess that King Gustavson would never have provided.
She was hardly accustomed to it yet.
