Keely leaned against the door,biting her lip, and staying silent as the oak creaked with Tor’s weight.
She could imagine him—palms pressed against the wood, those sinuous black-and-red tattoos highlighting the bulky muscles on his forearms, eyes the color of midnight focused intently on the closed door.
Oh, he could take the door off the hinges if he wanted to, but he never would. Her body and her space were completely safe with him. But not her heart—the very part of her she’d sworn not to risk again. And look at her now.
The door creaked again as his weight lifted, and then his heavy footsteps thudded on the soft carpeting. He was leaving. It was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?
She counted to twenty-five before finally allowing herself to step softly across to her bed, avoiding the filled trunks and satchels lying in orderly piles, to crawl onto the neatly made covers and lie, face down, steeped in her misery.
Bard. She had been so proud of her strength. Of keeping her eyes dry, and her heart safely guarded for so many years. And Tor had ripped that all away.
She should have known better. Should have known to keep him at a good safe distance, known not to start dreaming again. And yet… she had still hoped. And every time she thought she might finally be getting over him, he did something to remind her why she had liked him so much in the first place.
He missed her. He spent all day thinking about her. He wanted to be with her. And damn it all, she wanted it too. But he’d hurt her. And he still couldn’t see a real future for them. And now… well, now the future was all she could see.
A gentle knock sounded at the door; nothing like Tor’s demanding thumps, but she really didn’t want to see anyone. She kept quiet, hoping they would give up and go away.
“It’s me and Lucilla,” Alanna called softly from the corridor. “Please can we come in?”
Keely pressed the heels of her palms into her stinging eyes and cleared her throat. “I’m… um….” Bloody hell. Why couldn’t she think of a good lie?
“We’ll help with… whatever it is,” Lucilla added.
“Or we can wait,” Alanna agreed firmly. “Take as long as you need.”
Keely sighed. There were two of them, they weren’t going to go away, and she didn’t have it in her to argue. She got up, grumbling to herself as she stepped over boxes and slid back the bolt to open the door.
The two women walked in quickly, as if they were worried she might close the door again. Thankfully, they kept any comments about her red eyes and chewed lip to themselves. And, even better, they hadn’t taken it on themselves to bring her any food.
It had been bad enough sitting in the queen’s reception room with the pungent aromas of cooked meat and spice, salmon, and fresh crab pastries. Fish. Bard, she couldn’t even think of it without wanting to heave.
Alanna sat in the cozy armchair under the window, while Lucilla sat on the side of the bed, both wearing loose woolen dresses and boots and wrapped in blankets. Neither of them looked even vaguely royal. They glanced meaningfully at each other and then at the array of packed boxes covering the floor.
Keely sighed again and walked to stand beside the window. She turned to face into the room and perched on the sill, trying to smile. Damn. When did it get so difficult to smile? Her face felt weirdly contorted as her cheeks pulled into a grimace.
Alanna gave her a long, careful look, and Keely swallowed against the ache in her throat.
“You can say it. Whatever it is,” Keely said quietly. Did her words sound as dejected to her friends as they did to her?
Alanna rose from her seat to wrap her arms tightly around Keely’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug. Bard, she needed a hug so badly. And now she was going to cry.
“Keely, my friend, we want to help,” Alanna said quietly as she pulled away to sit back in the armchair. Giving her the space she needed to hold herself together. “Tell us what you need.”
What did she need? So many things. But nothing that Alanna or Lucilla or anyone else could help with. This was something she had to deal with on her own.
“We saw Tor follow you,” Alanna admitted quietly into the silence.
Keely swallowed against the lump in her throat as she forced her voice not to wobble. “We spoke.”
“I take it that didn’t go well?” Lucilla said gently.
She shrugged. This time she didn’t even try to smile.
Lucilla shook her head. “Gods. Was it that bad?”
Keely snorted sadly reminding herself that Alanna and Lucilla had come because they wanted to help. They were her friends. For so many years, she had cared for other people, without sharing her own fears and losses. But now she didn’t want to hold it all in anymore.
She scrubbed her hand tiredly down her face. “I thought a lot about what you said, you know, when Mathos was being an ass. About fighting for him, about how you knew you’d done everything you could.”
