Chapter Twelve Ronan

Chapter Twelve

Ronan

I’ve heard rumors about the legendary Mabon Festival within the Kingdom of Pentacles, so I expected the decorations to be extravagant and for the guests to be engaging in all manner of overindulgence. But the reality of Lady Clayton’s annual celebration surpasses even the most exaggerated tales that have rippled throughout the kingdoms of Towerfall.

The grand ballroom is a spectacle of wealth and excess. Crystal chandeliers hang from vaulted ceilings, their countless facets scattering candlelight like a shower of stars. The walls are adorned with velvet and stitched with threads of gold, and marble columns are wrapped in lush garlands of autumn leaves and flowers.

Banquet tables stretch along the far wall, overflowing with roasted pheasant, glazed boar, cheeses, fruits, sweets, and goblets of the finest wines. Guests draped in luxurious fabrics mingle and dance, their faces half-hidden behind ornate masks embellished with feathers and jewels. Laughter rises above the notes of a full orchestra nestled in a gilded balcony.

My nerves are frayed from anticipation and the relentless passage of time that seems to stretch each minute into an eternity. I can’t decide if I’m eager to finally confront and kill the woman who destroyed my family or if part of me dreads the irreversible step I’m about to take.

I press my palm against the dagger concealed beneath my coat as I move through the throng and exchange pleasantries, offer polite smiles, and sip sparingly from a goblet of wine I have no intention of finishing. All the while, my eyes discreetly scan the room.

Elara moves gracefully among the other pawns. Dressed in a simple yet elegant linen gown, she appears every bit the obedient servant. But I know better. Our gazes meet across the room, and her green eyes steady me more than I care to admit.

If anyone dares to lay a finger on her, I will end them where they stand.

I tell myself the thought is part of the ruse, but deep down, I know it’s more than that. I care for her more deeply than I ever intended. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before.

I catch her eye once again, and she offers a subtle nod, a silent assurance that she’s managing without me. Yet I don’t want her to manage without me. I want her to need me, to desire me, to love me. Warmth spreads through my chest, momentarily easing the tension coiled around my heart.

But the relief is fleeting. My gaze shifts, and I spot Lady Clayton gliding through the crowd. Emerald silk spills against her slight curves, and diamonds catch the light, glittering from her upswept pile of dark hair. Her laughter rings out like clinking glass, and I shudder as shards splinter beneath my skin.

Amid the swirl of silk and laughter, Lady Clayton slips away from the ballroom, exiting through a set of ornate double doors. This is my chance.

Taking a steadying breath, I follow her at a distance, my footsteps silent on the plush rug. Her emerald gown shimmers as she moves down a dimly lit corridor, the din of the festivities fading to a muffled hum as we get farther and farther away.

I used to dream of this moment—the satisfaction and joy I would feel when I finally confronted her, avenged my family, and bathed in her blood. But now, my fingers are slick with sweat as they find the hilt of my dagger. I’m torn. If I kill Lady Levina Clayton, I will surely be put to death.

And then what of Elara?

Lady Clayton turns into a quiet room lined with shelves of leather-bound books and furnished with plush chairs. I step inside, closing the door softly behind me.

“Enjoying your party, my lady?” I say, my voice carrying a sharp edge.

She turns, surprise flickering across her features before settling into a mask of polite curiosity. Her dark eyes meet mine, a slight arch to her brow. “I wasn’t aware I had company,” she replies smoothly. “Have we been introduced?”

“Not formally,” I say, taking a measured step forward. “But I’ve been looking forward to this moment for quite some time.”

Her gaze narrows, assessing. “Is that so? And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Ronan Greve,” I state, watching for any sign of recognition.

A delicate frown mars her brow. “Greve…”

“Does it sound familiar, Lady Clayton ? It should,” I bite out, my fists clenching at my sides.

“Edgar—” she begins, a hint of realization dawning.

“My father. ”

“Your father?” She blinks, confusion twisting her features. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” I snap. “Why would someone like you remember the lives you’ve destroyed?”

Her posture stiffens, and she gazes at me, a mixture of emotions flitting across her thin face. “I had no idea he had a son.”

“Spare me your feigned ignorance,” I spit, venom lacing my words. “You manipulated him, led him to ruin. Your actions destroyed my family.” My hand moves to my belt, and in one fluid motion, I pull out the dagger. The blade catches the low light, a sharp promise of what’s to come.

“Wait!” she cries, panic flashing in her eyes as she rushes behind one of the plush chairs and clutches the upholstery as if it could shield her from my wrath.

“I suggest you choose your next words carefully,” I grind out through clenched teeth, marching toward her with deliberate steps.

“I cared for Edgar d-deeply,” she stammers, her voice quivering. “He promised we would leave together, start a new life away from court. But he disappeared without a word. I searched for him, but it was as if he vanished.”

“Liar,” I hiss, fury surging through me like a tempest. Without hesitation, I charge forward. Vaulting over the chair, I grab her arm and yank her toward me. She struggles, but my grip is iron.

Her wide eyes glisten with tears. “I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry. He never spoke of a family.”

“Convenient,” I sneer. “But whether you knew or not changes nothing. You are responsible. Apologies won’t bring back what I’ve lost.”

“Ronan, stop!” Elara’s voice slices through the tension as she bursts into the room, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing.

“Elara, leave,” I command, my gaze locked on Lady Clayton.

She steps between us, placing a steady hand on my chest. “I won’t let you do this.”

“This is none of your concern,” I growl, the dagger still poised.

“It is if you’re about to throw your life away,” she counters. “You never intended to move on, did you? You planned to end it all here.”

“Elara—”

“Listen to me,” she pleads, her pale green eyes searching mine. “I need you to choose something other than vengeance. Choose me. Choose us .”

Us.

Her words pierce through the fog of anger clouding my mind. The weight of the dagger suddenly feels heavier, the cold steel pressing into my palm.

Choose us.

My grip on Lady Clayton loosens. She gasps, drawing back but too afraid to move farther. “Perhaps we have all been victims of Edgar’s deceit,” she whispers shakily. “I was unaware of his other life. He made promises he did not keep.”

“Shut up!” I roar and tighten my hold on her arm, the maelstrom of emotions threatening to consume me.

“Ronan, please,” Elara implores, stepping closer. “This isn’t who you are. Don’t let the past destroy your future.”

I glance at her, the anguish in her eyes mirroring my own. “She deserves to pay,” I murmur, though the conviction in my voice falters. “Whether he lied to her or not doesn’t absolve her of her actions.”

“And she will, but not like this. Let justice find its way without also taking your life.” Elara reaches up, her hands warm against my face. “What happened in the past can’t be changed. Continuing down this path serves no one. Let it go. Choose a life with me instead.”

I close my eyes, the tension slowly ebbing from my body. The desire for revenge that once burned so fiercely now tastes like ashes on my tongue. The dagger slips from my fingers, clattering to the floor with a metallic thud.

Lady Clayton takes a shaky breath. “I never intended for any of this to happen,” she whispers. “If I could undo the pain I’ve caused, I would.”

I fix her with a steady gaze. “I’m not choosing this to spare you,” I say, my voice firm but devoid of malice. “I am freeing myself. Freeing Elara.” A weight lifts from my shoulders as the words leave my lips. Turning to Elara, I offer a weary smile. “Let’s leave this place.”

She returns my grin, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Yes. Let’s go.”

We exit the room, leaving Lady Clayton to grapple with her conscience. The opulent corridors feel emptier now, the distant echoes of laughter and music from the ballroom fading into the background as we make our way outside. The night air is crisp, stars scattered across the velvet sky like distant lanterns.

At the stables, Sabre greets us with a soft nicker. His coat gleams like polished silver in the moonlight, and he paws the ground impatiently as we approach.

“He’s ready to go home,” I murmur, stroking his mane.

“So am I.”

My heart sinks at her words. A knot forms in my stomach, tightening with each passing second. She’s still going to leave. It didn’t matter that I chose her over vengeance. It didn’t matter that I bared my soul.

Awkwardly, I begin to fumble for words. “I—I’ll take you to see the elders. Those who might help you find a way back to your world. We can set out at first light. If you’d prefer to travel alone, I understand.”

I swallow hard. The thought of her leaving makes my chest ache.

Elara steps closer, closing the distance between us. Gently, she cups my cheeks with her hands. Lifting onto her tiptoes, she presses her lips against mine. The kiss is tender, filled with a sweetness that catches me off guard.

She pulls back just enough to look into my eyes. “You still don’t get it, do you?” she whispers, a hint of amusement dancing in her pale green eyes. “I love you, Ronan. You’re my home now.”

“Elara…” I breathe her name like this breath is my last.

“I’m not going anywhere without you.”

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close as my lips find hers, pouring all the words I can’t seem to say into that single kiss.

I help Elara mount before moving to swing up behind her, but she shakes her head with a playful grin.

“No,” she says, sliding back to make room in the saddle. “You lead. I’ll be right here.”

Elara wraps her arms around my waist and rests her cheek against my back. “Thank you,” she whispers after a while, her voice barely audible over the rhythmic hoofbeats.

“For what?” I ask, guiding Sabre onto the road that will lead us away from the shadows of the Kingdom of Pentacles and toward the Kingdom of Swords.

“For choosing us.”

I place my hand over hers. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She hugs me tighter, the steady beat of her heart thrumming against my back.

The horizon ahead is tinged with the first indigo and violet splashes of dawn, the promise of a new day, a new path forward, a new life. The past remains where it belongs, and the future stretches out before us.

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