11. Reeves

eleven

Heading toward the castle exit, I was amazed at how tonight had gone. I had gotten so much time to talk to the King, and I think I'd impressed him. He didn't say he would sell me the land, but some of the other stuff he said intrigued me. He had spoken about hiring a central farming manager to coordinate rotations between his farms. The questions he asked seemed like a job interview. Would I be interested in something like that? I wasn't sure, but then again, it would put me further in line for acquiring more land and getting in even better favor.

There was nothing wrong with that.

Davis, the butler, handed me my bundle of work clothes, while gesturing to the clothes I had been lent. "Just keep the suit." He escorted me to the foyer, but when we rounded the corner, I got a glimpse of Erralee, who also appeared to be on her way out.

Both her feathered brows sprang high when she saw us. "I was, ah, going to get some air." She had huge tears running down her cheeks, but she quickly slapped them away when she saw us. All the triumph I had over my evening instantly dissipated with the sadness etched into Erralee's face.

"It's dark out, my lady," the butler reminded her with an air of suspicion in his voice.

"Perhaps, I can have a minute of your time." I stepped forward, my heart pounding out a rhythm that only comes when it's filled with adrenaline. Time was running out . . . Erralee had expressed to me how upset she was about this marriage, but tonight I got to witness it. It wasn't right. You don't win wars with unjust marriages. My heart wrenched so strongly for her, I struggled to speak. "This is probably a final goodbye."

"Sure." Her eyes snapped to the butler, and she mumbled, "I'll just be outside." She swung open the door as if busting out of jail and I followed her. As soon as the door was shut, she let out a sigh like she was painfully falling, before bursting into tears.

I didn't need to ask her what was wrong, because I had seen the whole night play out. To say she wasn't matched well with King Aswell was a massive understatement. The little she tried to engage him, he seemed to almost belittle her. She appeared repulsed by him, and he did nothing to soothe her. I wasn't a Casanova, but it didn't take Romeo to see everything about their arrangement was off.

She had held her head high through dinner, but her family refused to see under her poorly acted fa?ade. Burying her face in her hands, she wept for several beats before finally speaking through broken sobs, "How am I ever going to do this?"

The urge to comfort her took me by surprise. I dared to step closer to her. Pausing an arm's reach away as I was sure someone was watching us. My sunbaked lips parted but I made no sound.

"Reeves," she said through sobs, "do you think this is a bad idea?"

Empathy wrapped my heart. I hiked a brow, but it was the kind of limp expression you give when you try to meet the bare minimum of manners, while still fighting to be honest about your lack of approval. Being in the army, I traveled extensively, meeting many interesting characters. I was rather good at sizing up people. I didn't get bad vibes from King Aswell, but when I looked at Erralee . . . she was so innocent. Sooo naive. I mean, the girl's main hobby was nature naps. Even if the guy turned out to be a half decent human being, Erralee clearly wasn't ready for marriage. Definitely not a marriage of oil and water.

Guilt crept into my throat as I thought this over. I had used dinner to my advantage to get what I wanted. Actually, my entire friendship with Erralee had been forged because I was trying to get close to her dad. Now, seeing her so broken, I couldn't care less about getting my land. If I thought it would make her truly happy, I'd give up her old land, too.

There wasn't a clear way to fix this.

I didn't know anything about arranged marriages, but I had my turn with fear. I could speak to that. "I ah, remember the night before I went on my first attack mission," I started, wetting my lips. "I was a pool of sweat, wondering how I ever allowed myself to be duped into putting my life on the line. I kept thinking someone else should have to be the one on the front line." I paused, nervously scratched my head, and rested my hand on my neck as it felt good to just hold on to something. "But then I thought, what kind of life is that? Someone who looks the other way on injustice, yet benefits from the sweat of others. I didn't want to run from my fears."

I dipped my eyebrows at the battlefield memories that flashed. Erralee's eyes brimmed with flecks of gold that glittered amongst the blue-violet of her eyes. In the tiniest voice, as if she was afraid to make a sound, she breathed, "How do I get over the fear?"

"Remember you don't ever get over it. Just when it's the scariest, you face it. And who knows." To make her smile, I pulled one side of my lips into an unconvincing lopsided grin. "Maybe you'll end up having a frolicking good time." I didn't mean she marries King Aswell. We both know that is not the good time she needs. A fairytale plays in my mind. One where we spend more days climbing on rocks, jumping into lakes, laughing until we tire out to eventually nap in the sun. The images surprise me enough to make my breath grow shallow. I hadn't really thought about that stuff with her before. Now that I did, it's the only thing that would make sense. It made more sense than her marrying King Aswell. I don't tell her that part.

She shuddered; She actually appeared numb to the cold, but her discomfort started from the conversation. I noticed that once again, her arms were bare. I slipped my jacket off and draped it on her shoulders. "You sure do make a habit out of not grabbing a coat."

"You always have one for me." Her fingers pulling the collar tight around her. "Are you saying I need to hurry and get it over and marry him? Just do my part."

"Woo, that's not what I said, exactly." I scratched my head again, getting a little dizzy at the thought of her marrying this man. My lips parted, pausing as I thought about my hesitation. I wasn't scared about not getting my land anymore. I had spent the last two hours with her dad, and we'd come to friendly terms. I didn't doubt there'd be opportunities for me at some point. I ran my tongue over my lips as I mulled this over, and I realized . . . I was scared for her, but not because she was mismatched. Plenty of people survived marriages of convenience and learned to thrive. Maybe they would? In movies it always worked out.

Something was happening as I stared at her.

A synchronizing.

My initial intentions to get close to her had been one hundred percent selfish, and for better access to her father. Somewhere along the way . . . that changed. When I looked at her, I knew what she was feeling.

Correction. I felt what she was feeling.

Part of me said to confess my ill intentions. The other half said I should tell her I was starting to have feelings for her. The other half, because I'm overly complicated and have more halves than the average person said, just hold her.

And that's the half I listened to.

I barely extended my arms, and she flew right into them, unleashing a new wave of sobs right onto my shoulder. I didn't have words to describe what was happening. Somehow, we'd both broken through each other's bravado. What was left was raw.

I couldn't tell her she'd be okay if she got married, because a part of me was now angry with her. It truly was unfair, and I selfishly wondered what would have happened if we had been allowed to continue our organic friendship. Sure, princesses didn't date cowboys, but Erralee was far from an ordinary princess.

I wanted to scream at her not to do it. Give her another option and tell her we could have a life together. Possibly? But as I was standing here holding her, Elliot's face floated in my mind. He gave up his life for this country, and so many more of the men I fought with. I couldn't tell her not to do it. I'd honestly witnessed braver things. She was in the position to change history and be an international hero. I couldn't take that from her. My heart was splitting in two, completely torn, neither choice had a happy ending. I can't imagine how she was feeling if I felt this heartache.

She sobbed into my shoulder, and let my fingers caress her long strands of hair until she was out of tears. What I did manage to say when she finally lifted her face was, "Whatever you decide, you have an amazing destiny to fulfill, and I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines."

She blinked in rapid succession, but before she could say anything, the door opened again, and the butler stood intrusively close to us. Her gaze floated to him, and then back to me, and she squeaked out, "I'd better go in."

My feet cemented until the door banged closed behind her, a piece of my heart crumbled in the echoes of the slam.