Mathos hid a wince. Reece had grown up with nothing, in the worst parts of Kaerlud, while his father was at sea and his mother sold flowers and mended clothes, desperate to keep them fed. His father had never come back, and when his mother had died, he had lived on the streets until he was old enough to join the army.
What had happened to Mathos was nothing like that. But his former life was long gone, nonetheless. “I can’t go back.”
“Why not? Aren’t you some la-di-da noble with a title and everything?”
Technically, he was a baron. But it had never meant shit. Hadn’t saved him when the time came.
“They told me to leave, Reece. My mother kicked me out while my sisters looked away.”
“Yeah, yeah. Poor little rich boy.” Reece rolled his red eyes. “And you just walked away and never went back. So, who do you think really left who?”
His gut turned over, half with rage at Reece and just how little he understood, half with a sudden horror.
His mother had sent him away. His sisters had watched him go. It had never even occurred to him that they might expect him to go back.
Reece leaned back in his chair, his hands laced behind his head. “I’m so sick of this story. If you wanted to go and see them, you could’ve. You had a home and a family, Mathos. People who loved you.”
Reece narrowed his eyes and glared. “So, they handed you a debt-ridden estate, and then, when it inevitably failed, they chose to accept the protection of a man who cared for them. Someone who promised to keep them safe and fed. Whose only crime was that he didn’t want an arrogant little shit with a complete inability to handle authority fucking with his household. What would you rather they did? Walk barefoot to Kaerlud and live together in one room, sharing a bed while they sold flowers for pennies? Or, when that failed, sell their bodies down on the docks? Gods, you’re an asshole.”
Mathos sat, stunned, unable to think of any kind of reply.
He was the one who had never gone back. And he had been running ever since. Yes, they’d treated him badly. His stepfather was an asshole, and his mother should have done much more to help him. But she had also been in a spectacularly difficult position. And if he was being completely honest, she probably hadn’t expected him to pack his bags and leave within hours of her decision.
For the first time, he looked past his own hurt, and recognized that her choice had had very little to do with him, and yet he had allowed it to influence his behavior for years.
And now he had destroyed what he’d had with Lucy. And with it, any chance of happiness he might have had.
For what? For nothing.
Even worse than that, all this time, he’d been certain she would hate him for convincing her to take the throne instead of stepping up and helping her. He could have stayed and made sure she had the adventures she wanted. Instead, he’d left her all alone. Just like all the other assholes in her life.
“You’re right.” His voice caught on the dry lump in his throat.
Gods. What had he done?
Reece’s shoulders slumped exhaustedly, as if he’d used the last of whatever spirit he’d had to berate Mathos and now he was done.
“You could go back, you know, Reece,” Mathos said in a rough voice. “The Hawks will take you.”
“Nah. No one in their right mind wants me back.”
Mathos leaned forward. “They do. Everybody misses you, Reece.” He looked his friend in the eye. “And Queen Lucilla, she has an incredible heart. She would give you a place in the Blues; I’m sure of it.”
“And if you’re so sure of that, why don’t you go back?”
Mathos froze. He had lost years with his family because of his stubbornness. Did he have to lose more years? Was there any possible way Lucilla could forgive him for what he’d done?
He sat quietly, waiting for a comment. A thought. Anything, from his beast.
Still nothing. Just the glaring, empty quiet. For the first time in his life, he had to make a decision alone.
He didn’t deserve forgiveness. Maybe she would never trust him again, never want him near her again. But he could still try. He could still tell her the truth. Tell her that he loved her, that he would always love her. He would know that he had done everything he could. That he hadn’t walked away because of his own failures.
He would beg Tristan, on his knees if he had to, to take him back. And if he had to stand guard and watch her make a life without him, watch her take a husband up those stairs and love children that weren’t his, that would be his punishment.
He would take it. So long as she was happy.
He would stand guard as she fulfilled her destiny and be grateful for every day that he could watch over her and keep her safe.
