She had broken her promise to him, but Rolfe wanted to return to the bedroom, to console her and make her smile. Annelise had a power over him that was not entirely welcome, for it reminded him ofRosalinde.
One would think that Rolfe would remember how deceptive women could be. One would think that he could manage to recall that Annelise had just trickedhim.
Rolfe stepped to the door of the stables and heard the sound of a woman weeping. His heart clenched and again, he yearned to go to Annelise, to talk to her, to console her, to find out whether she truly had been afraid of him and to discoverwhy.
But the djinn’s curse echoed in his thoughts, halting him in hissteps.
And let the one in whom heconfides,
Lead a killer to hisside.
Wouldshe?
Couldshe?
Rolfe could not imagine as much, but then, he had not expected Annelise to try to steal a glimpse of him. Was his trust misplaced? Was she like Rosalinde? He wanted to believe otherwise, but had need ofproof.
“The only place she knows to find me is in this palace,” he reminded Mephistopheles, who was not particularly interested in anything beyond the bottom of his feed bin. “She knows nothing of my transformation or where I go in theday.”
Rolfe paced the length of the stables and back, aware that the stars were already fading. “I must leave and watch the palace from the forest.” His decision made, Rolfe packed a few belongings. He had only to wish for the things that were not in the stables to have them appear. He was by no means certain that feat would work beyond the palacewalls.
There was an abandoned tower not far away that he would use as a refuge. He dared not take a horse, for the steed would be undefended during theday.
“Farewell, my friend,” he said to Mephistopheles and scratched the destrier’s ears. “I shall return for you when I can.” The stallion nosed in his oats, his tail swishing, apparently indifferent. But then, it was comfortable here and Annelise ensured that the destrier wasridden.
Perhaps she would be happy withouthim.
Rolfe strode toward the gates with his pack on his shoulder. The palace seemed to glow in the light of the moon, as if it were an illusion, and he could not help but pause to look back atit.
The sound of Annelise’s weeping was louder and turning away from her distress was the most difficult thing Rolfe had ever done. He reminded himself that Annelise had deceived him, as Rosalinde had done—perhaps also for her owngain.
He could not abandon her completely as she was his lady wife. But Rolfe could and would retreat to a safe distance and watch what Annelise would do in hisabsence.
It was the right thing to do, he told himself. The prudentchoice.
But even knowing that did not make it easy to walkaway.
* * *
Dawn broughta new sense of purpose toAnnelise.
Her husband had shown his true measure and left her for her mistake. He had not struck her or even chastised hermuch.
How could she regain histrust?
She had already seen evidence of her spouse’s agile thinking, as well as his keen sense of humor. Surely half a night of solitude would have calmed him enough to accept her apology. After all, harmony could be found between two people only by discussion and compromise. Annelise was certain he would understand and not be unreasonable. He had been angry and justifiably so, but an apology should set matters torights.
All she had to do was find him to offerit.
She shivered in the chill of the morning and donned her familiar russet kirtle. It seemed unfitting to seek him out in the new garb he had supplied. She was cold enough to tug on her old, heavy wool stockings, as well. Annelise wished that she had thought to close the doors to the courtyard the night before. She pulled her fur-lined cloak over her shoulders and hurried down the corridor, realizing only after she left the chamber that something wasdifferent.
The courtyard had beensilent.
The fountain did notsplash.
Annelise frowned and stepped into the gardens at the front of thepalace.
A large wet snowflake landed upon her nose. She stopped and stared at the garden inamazement.
