“So d—” I cut myself off so quickly that I gasped, wheezed, and doubled over coughing. Oh, gods. Gods. Fuck. What had I almost said? What had I, what…my eyes watered, and I wiped at them with my free hand, but I still clutched Stefan’s with the other like a lifeline.
So do I. The unspoken words rang and rang in my skull like the clang of a bell.So do I, so do I, so do I.
When I looked back up at Lord Ettori, his eyes had narrowed, his eyebrows raised. “I see,” he said, and then repeated, “I see,” in a knowing way that had me blushing to my eyeballs. “I chose better for both of you than either of you would have for yourselves,” he went on. “Admit it. Or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me if you do. I’ve achieved what I needed to. Stefan’s going to carry on my legacy whether he likes it or not, because I planned it for him before he was born, and my plans tend to work. Mark my words, Remi.”
Oh, he had to be mad. And Ennolu save me, but I didn’t care anymore. He could plan anything he wanted as long as he went away and left me alone to bury my head under the covers and scream into a pillow. While keeping a tight grip on Stefan’s hand, of course, because even a moment’s separation from the man I…I…oh, I couldn’t.
“Will you please leave?” I asked bluntly, my head spinning to the rhythm ofso do I. Stefan. Oh gods. “Come back later if you like. Bring Lady Estella. Stefan would want her to come.” I had no idea if he would or not, but she was his mother, and that was that. He’d left me in charge. “But now, would you, I beg of you, just—leave?”
“Yes, I will, since you seem to have matters in hand,” he said, making me blink in shock. “You see? We may not like one another, Remi, but I want my son safe and cared for, something you are now going to accomplish for your own reasons. My plans tend to work.” That had the ring of a warning—but not a threat, this time. Merely information that he hoped I’d be intelligent enough to remember. “You will let me know if there is anything on this earth that he requires that you are unable to provide for him yourself, of course.”
I bit back an answer to the effect that if I needed anyone blackmailed or murdered, I’d be sure to send for him immediately.
Lord Ettori and I seemed to have reached a truce. It would be best not to push him too far, because I had no illusions about who’d ultimately win an open fight.
“I’ll send a servant to you every couple of hours with an update on Stefan’s condition, and anything I need,” I said instead, and sighed, because I could hear Abbot Junius in the back of my mind, urging me to do the right thing. “You’re right that I should have sent word to you and Lady Estella last night. I was too distracted. I didn’t even think of it.”
“She was taken ill at the news early this morning and rendered unable to accompany me. I will expect you to apologize to her at the earliest opportunity, although I’ll attempt to smooth the way for you.” He smiled, and it almost, almost reached his dark eyes. “This time. The next time you displease her, I’ll let you twist. I suggest you don’t let it happen again. She’s less forgiving than I am.”
Oh, and that was a glimpse into their married life that I could’ve gone my own entire life without. A shiver ran down my spine. What did they do to enjoy themselves together? Murder people? Raze small villages to the ground?
I could only nod my understanding, and Lord Ettori nodded in return. He reached down and took Stefan’s other hand in his, giving it the briefest of squeezes before he laid it gently on the bed.
He left without another word to me, although I caught a few sharp ones addressed to poor Aldrich as he walked out.
I fell more than lay down beside Stefan, my head dropping onto his broad shoulder. At that moment, I’d have given anything in the world to have his arms around me, but I had to settle for wrapping mine around him, holding him close.
So do I.
“Wake up, Stefan,” I whispered, because I couldn’t quite say the words that quivered on the tip of my tongue. Once they fell out into the world, they couldn’t be recalled. Or denied. “Please. I need you.”
But he didn’t answer me. And I fell asleep like that, between one hitching breath and the next.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Stefan still hadn’t shown any sign of regaining consciousness by late that night, I began to worry in earnest. I’d sent updates to Stefan’s parents as promised, although they hadn’t come to see him again. I’d taken a glass of wine with Lord Corombos to try to reassure him that he wouldn’t have a second corpse on his hands. And I’d sent for not only the healer who’d already been there but two more, trying to reassure myself that there wouldn’t be a second corpse. They’d all agreed that he’d either wake, or he wouldn’t, but that it seemed more likely he would.
Probably.
I thanked them through gritted teeth. If I allowed myself to show the slightest emotion, to release even the tiniest amount of the agonized tension that kept all my limbs moving, I’d collapse on the floor and scream.
An hour before dawn of the next morning, I sat on the edge of the bed holding Stefan’s hand and practically vibrating out of my skin. Aldrich hovered a few feet away holding a plate with a sandwich that I’d already refused twice. My stomach seethed with acid and terror.
I had about twelve hours before my curse started to affect me. Less time than that, if the magic I’d used to bolster Stefan’s strength had drained me more than I realized. And even less than that if I couldn’t make myself eat, drink, and replenish my body’s fading resources.
Aldrich had brought the last bottle of my potion and stashed it discreetly in the dressing room. I had no idea if I could tolerate it now or not, but it didn’t matter: if I used it, I lost access to my magic, and I had no idea what that would do to Stefan.
But if I didn’t use it, and Stefan didn’t wake up by midday…
“You need to slow your breathing, my lord. Please. And eat the—”
“I don’t want the fucking sandwich, Aldrich!” I sucked in a breath that didn’t go nearly down to the bottom of my lungs. “I’m sorry. But I really don’t.”
He sighed. “I know what’s worrying you, my lord. I mean, other than the obvious. But he’ll be all right. I have faith that he will. In the meantime, you’re worried that you, ah. That you. Ah.”
Aldrich had gone redder than the tomato in that damn sandwich. “I know what you mean,” I said, because I didn’t think he could finish the sentence without exploding.
Aldrich went from red to crimson, and he said, so quickly that the words almost ran together, “I don’t like men. At all, my lord. Never have. But there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Or Fritz would. We haven’t talked about it, but I know he would.”
