That happened just before Father disappeared. It was one of a host of unsettling memories I had of mybetrothed.
His shoulder-length golden hair swished in the wind as he stopped beside the bench and glanced down at my journal. I’d been reading it earlier. It was the most recent one.
Thayden and his father were the only two people outside of my immediate family who knew about my curse.
I wished they didn’t, but it would have been difficult to hide because of their closeness to my family. His father was my father’s best friend, and I grew up with Thayden.
Their family took care of us in the rough times, so all I could be was grateful.
Thayden lived in Zyvaris but had been in Stormfell since I fell ill.
“Hi,” I said, trying to ignore the unease creeping through my nerves.
He lowered himself to sit next to me. When our knees brushed, a shiver of awareness raced through me. Not the giddy way you’d expect to feel around someone you love. The other kind. The kind that alerted every nerve with a warning.
“It’s late. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.” He held my gaze, his eyes searching mine as if he were trying to probe into my head and steal my secret thoughts about him.
“I just needed some air.” That wasn’t a lie. Being inside the house was suffocating with everyone watching me. Especially him and his men.
Apparently, he hardly left my side last month. He came here to Stormfell for our engagement celebrations and never returned to Zyvaris when I got sick.
The thought should have been endearing. He was a knight of high standing who was always off on some mission for King Varis. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was always doing something for one of the seven kingdoms of Nelkaraad.
I should be in awe at his obvious care for me, but I couldn’t get my heart to budge.
If anything, I found it more unnerving that he was at my bedside watching me sleep. Watching me in that vulnerable, helpless state.
“I don’t like you being out here by yourself.” He straightened slightly, as if the decision had already been made. “Your mother and Emabelle are inside planning the wedding, and your grandmother is making dinner. Why don’t you go inside and sit with them? You can still read your journal.”
“I’m done reading now, so I can head inside.” I gave him a stiff smile and nodded, deciding not to insist on staying out here, even though I wanted to.
“Learn anything interesting?” he asked, as if he hadn’t read everything for himself.
“Not so much. It seemed a little repetitive from the month before. I mostly helped my mother in the healers’ quarters with her patients.”
“Ahh, of course, you love that.”
“I do.”Bastard. I wished he wouldn’t put on the act. He’d know I’d hate the idea of him reading my private things.
Grandmother told me he read all my journals the moment I got sick. He’d insisted on it.
I would be more worried, but the crazy thing was, there was nothing untoward in any of my journals to worry about.
Nothing about my life. Nothing about my thoughts on people I interacted with. Nothing about Thayden that would have reflected my true thoughts.
Everything I wrote about him was bland and complacent. It was odd. One more thing that felt displaced. The journals didn’t feel like…like they were mine. Like I’d written them.
“I was thinking of taking you to the craft market next weekend.” He grinned, looking me over with expectancy. “I hear it’s going to be good.”
“I’d love that.” I did love anything like that, but I didn’t want to go with him.
“I’m trying.” He straightened but cocked his head. “I’m trying to make you feel better. Happier. I want to make the most of thelittle time you have left in Stormfell. I don’t want you to be too homesick.”
“That’s kind of you.”
His expression softened, and his eyes brightened. “You know I’ll do anything for you.”
I doubted that. But he wanted me to believe it. Believe it like the stories he’d told me about us being madly in love.
