17. Our Old Spot

Chapter 17

Our Old Spot

T he morning delivered a lovely, balmy breeze wisping through the curtains, the only thing separating their room from the elements. Erran was still fast asleep after his bold showing the night before. Mariel wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened, or think about her own role in their hungered rendezvous, which was even less clear to her in the dawn of day.

Mariel wandered down one identical hall after another until she happened upon the double kitchens. One side was full with staff readying for the day. She was more at home with the bustle of usefulness, but they wouldn’t see it that way. They’d grow quiet at her presence, nervously waiting for her to make a request or leave. She was on the opposite end of the social hierarchy now. Nothing she said would change their feelings.

Mariel opted for the calm side, hoping to find at least a pot for boiling and a jar of tea leaves.

“Oh, Mariel.” Yesenia turned from where she stood at the hearth, stirring something that smelled earthy and delicious. She smiled. “Seems we had the same idea this morning.”

“Avoiding the awkward dance of trying to make unwanted small talk with the nervous kitchen staff?” Mariel asked before she could think better of it.

Yesenia laughed. “We were always cozy with our workers here, but it certainly isnae like that in the Easterlands.”

“Never been.”

“It’s exactly the nightmare you’re imagining.”

Mariel laughed despite herself, despite imagining Yesenia with her legs clamped around Erran’s head, writhing under his skilled tongue. “I didn’t mean to intrude?—”

“You’re not.” Yesenia unhooked two mugs and ladled tea into one. “Here.”

Mariel tentatively stepped forward. “Gratitude.”

“Donnae thank me just yet. The good tea is on the other side.” She winked.

Mariel wanted to hate her. Oh, Guardians, how she wished she did. But there was a certain charm to the woman that made Mariel wish they’d met under different circumstances. They might have even been friends. “If I die, I’m holding you responsible.”

“That’s the spirit.” Yesenia filled her own mug and nodded toward a small table, where the workers probably took their own meals. “Join me?”

Mariel suddenly froze. Small talk was one thing. Whatever Yesenia was offering seemed entirely another. “Oh, nay. I need to...” She gestured behind her.

Yesenia nodded. “Another time.”

“Aye,” Mariel said and rushed out, her heart a sprinting, dysfunctional mess. Embarrassed, she dipped into the first set of doors she saw and found herself in the midst of a modest library.

It wasn’t like the indulgent cavern of learning Whitecliffe had. There were only a few shelves, half-full of books, and bins full of what looked like rolled maps. In the center was a desk far too large for the room, and she realized it wasn’t a library at all, but an office.

The doors opened behind her. She turned and saw Khallum.

“Mariel.” He latched the doors and smiled. “I’m glad ye came along this time.”

She realized this time was a reference to the way she’d been excluded from Erran’s last visit to Warwicktown, the one that had launched the entire messy affair and his campaign to rehabilitate his image. She’d fallen ill from something she’d eaten at the Spires, which she’d seen as a mercy. Only later did she learn just how much humiliation she’d been spared. “Esmerelda is a beauty.”

“Aye.” Khallum stepped farther in and leaned against his desk. “I ken I’ll enjoy spoiling her.”

“My father was like that. Always spoiled me, when he could.”

“You two were close?”

Mariel nodded.

“Erran said you lost both your parents young.”

“Aye.”

“Condolences.”

“It was a long time ago. I’m sorry about your own father, Lord Warwick. I always heard he was a fair and just lord.”

Khallum nodded at the floor. He crossed his feet. “Aye, he was a good man. And call me Khallum. Your husband has seen me naked.”

Mariel laughed awkwardly. “You’re probably here to work, so I’ll just?—”

“I saw ye come in here and followed,” he said candidly. “Thought we could talk.”

What is it with all the cursed talking ? “About?”

“This must be weird for ye, after all ye heard about Erran’s last visit. But if I thought there was any real trouble to be had, I wouldnae have invited him or you.”

“Oh, we don’t... have to talk about this.”

“Aye, but we do. May not be my business in other times or places, but it’s mine here. Erran’s an emotional lad. Not something I understand leastways, but he doesnae understand me much either. He’s always needed time with stuff, and I expect it’s why his impulsiveness last time was such a disaster. If he’d had time to think on it, it would never have happened at all.”

“Khallum.” Mariel didn’t know what to say. Leaving a conversation initiated by her host—who was also the lord of the entire Southerlands—would be rude. “I won’t... You can expect no trouble from me while we’re here.”

“Or them,” Khallum stated, a resoluteness underscoring the words. “Gwyn and Korah will be by your rooms around dusk to help ye get... all prettied up for the banquet tonight.” He waved his hands as if discussing some rare magic he could never understand. “Not that ye need it.”

She could tell he was being polite, rather than flirting, so she smiled. “I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Aye, well you’ll have more than you’ll want.” He chuckled. “One more thing, then I’ll leave it be. Guardians know why Erran was infatuated with my sister for as long as he was. She wasnae as lovely as she seems now, trust me on that, nor was she exactly nice to the lad. Strung him about for years. It would be a shame for jealousy to ruin what seems far more durable than two bairns messing about ever was. Ye ken?”

Mariel nodded, wondering how often Khallum offered advice to others, and if so, if he was as clumsy with it as he was acting then. But she had no qualms with him or his intentions, which were steeped in loyalty for his best mate.

Khallum slapped his knees and stood. “As I said, good to have ye here, Mariel. Always welcome.”

“Thank you, Khallum.”

She waited for him to leave and then decided she was no longer interested in her tea.

Mariel set her mug on the nearest table and headed for the shore, where she could be alone with her thoughts and no men would deign to offer unasked-for advice about how she was supposed to feel about her husband still being in love with his enchanting ex.

Erran asked everyone he saw if they’d seen Mariel. A few said no, and a couple gave vague but incorrect suggestions, but the most useful piece of information was when someone said she was seen heading to the beach, alone. As soon as he heard it, it seemed the most likely answer, because he, too, felt a calling for the tide lapping over his feet. The sand between his toes. A reminder that who he’d been on Feck-All Island was who he could still be.

His failures only kept adding. The desperate sex he’d engaged her in had just confused her more. When she thought he was asleep, she’d slipped out to the balcony and quietly wept. Disgrace had kept him fixed to the bed, with the shame of knowing that if he had caused her sadness, he had no right to alleviate it.

He did know that if he didn’t make it right soon, she would slip away from him altogether. If that happened, he wasn’t confident anything he did would bring her back.

Erran had just stepped into the field of seagrass when a familiar voice called his name.

“Can we talk?”

Once, the sound had stopped time for him. The trill of her imaginative cursing had been a delightful gift, even when the cursing was aimed at him.

He turned, prepared to say no, but her grave expression stayed him. “Is something wrong?”

Yesenia nodded. “Aye, I ken there is, and I’d like us to clear the air. Put it behind us so we can all enjoy the celebration tonight.”

Erran glanced down the shore. He didn’t see Mariel, but he couldn’t see much of anything through the dense brush and low fog. “Can we do this later? I need to find Mariel.”

“It willnae take long.”

He sighed through his teeth.

“Please?”

Erran nodded because he recognized the old determination in her. She rarely relented when she had her mind set. “I only have a minute.”

“Our old spot?”

Their old spot. The cove. Where a key era in his life had started, thrived, and ended. “That seems unwise, given our history.”

“And private.”

“There’s plenty of privacy inside the keep. Why not there?”

“Because I have a husband who may be feeling like your wife, and no one ever goes to the cove except us. I’d like to resolve this without more eyes on us, if possible. We had more than enough on us yesterday, and I’d ken your first night here was as cool as mine.”

The cove was the very last place he wanted to be with Yesenia, but to say so would attach more meaning to it than it deserved. If he had moved on, the cove would mean nothing. It did mean nothing. “Let’s be quick about it.”

Yesenia led the way, Erran holding several intentional paces behind her as he checked to make sure no one was watching them slip away together. When she ducked into the grotto, he sighed and followed her in.

“Where’s Corin?” Erran left his arms crossed, as though he couldn’t trust them, which wasn’t true. He could trust himself. But he needed Yesenia to see he wasn’t going to suddenly launch himself at her like last time, even if she was the one who had invited him.

“He knows where I am and why,” she answered, leaning against the rough cave wall. “I wanted to apologize. For how I left Warwicktown after I was married, without even a good-bye.”

Erran shook his head quickly. “It would...” He almost didn’t finish, but he needed to. For himself. For Mariel. “It wouldn’t have lasted much longer, I ken.”

She considered that for a few moments. “Maybe you’re right. Doesnae matter anymore. When the king stole my life from me, I was so feckin’ angry at the world, and I suppose at you too.”

“At me?”

“’Cos I knew... I knew you’d move on. And ye should have. Of course ye should have. I donnae ken why it angered me so, especially when I’d fallen for Corin in spite of my monumental effort not to, but it did. And then I was angry at ye for still loving me, which is backward, I know. Ye couldnae have won is what I’m saying, because the rules of the game were never fair.” Yesenia bowed her head. “We never got our closure. The king saw to it, but I sealed it with my stubbornness. If I’d have been kinder... clearer... what happened the last time we saw each other wouldnae have happened at all. It was out of character for you, which is how I know you’d reached the end of your wits. And I want ye to know, Erran, that I see my part in it now. And I’m sorry.”

Yesenia’s confession was as unexpected as it was informative. He hadn’t thought of it from the view she presented, that she’d been angry at him for moving on after she’d done exactly the same thing. “There’s no need to be. What’s done is done,” he said, replaying her words.

“I was also mad that you’d told me ye loved me, ’cos...” She seemed to gather her courage. “I loved ye too, but there wasnae a thing I could do about it. And it was a different definition of love than the one I know now.”

Erran understood perfectly, but he didn’t know how to voice to her what he hadn’t even voiced to himself.

He had fallen in love with Mariel Ashdown, and the thrilling sensation utterly eclipsed anything he’d ever felt for Yesenia.

“I like her, Erran. I hope you two are happy together.”

“Aye, I am happy,” he answered, because he wasn’t sure anymore if the same was true for Mariel. As much as he appreciated Yesenia’s gesture, the longer they talked, the more uneasy he grew about being there with her. He regretted not pushing back harder. If anyone had seen, there’d be no end to the trouble. His reputation wouldn’t recover this time, but worse than all of that, Mariel would believe nothing he said ever again.

“You should reassure her then.”

Erran thought of the letter in his pocket that he’d written to give to Yesenia and decided it was no longer necessary. Maybe he’d written it more for himself anyway, the closure she had denied him before.

He patted his pocket and let his hand fall away. “I need to go find her.”

Mariel watched Erran and Yesenia sneak off together. Her gaze traveled with them to the cove—the feckin’ cove —and her body followed. She cursed herself for being such a jealous fool, for caring at all about a man whose caprices changed with the tides.

But the truth would relieve her burdens, as her mother used to say. There was no use pining for what wasn’t. The sooner she recovered her heart, the sooner it could be hers again.

“I suspect she’s intimidated by me,” Yesenia was saying.

“Everyone is, which is how you’ve always liked it,” Erran said. “I should head back before tongues start wagging. Maybe you should wait a moment after I leave.”

“You were right. We should have done this somewhere else.”

“Aye, but what’s done is done.”

An easy silence permeated the air. Mariel flattened herself against the rocks and told herself it was all right. It was better to know. Better to return to who she’d been before, impenetrable against such a vulnerable assault. Things had been good then, sometimes even great. Hard, yes, but she’d known what to expect and had known where everyone in her life had stood. Where she’d stood.

“You’ll always be a part of me, Erran,” Yesenia said softly. Her boots clicked on the rocks. “I’m sorry for never saying I loved ye back. I should have.”

“Aye,” he said with a laugh that sounded almost angry. “But ye always were willful.”

Mariel didn’t need to hear any more. She loathed herself for needing any of it, for thinking it would give her the strength to put these foolish, useless feelings back into one of the many tiny boxes where she placed all the inconveniences of her life. So what if they’d bonded on the island? Enjoyed each other? At least she’d learned she liked sex. She’d like it even better when her heart wasn’t attached to the man underneath her.

She staggered back to the beach, her insufficient breaths a sharp contrast to the resolve in her mind. It was done. She was done. It was as simple as that.

But if she didn’t want this anymore, why did it hurt so badly?

If she’d convinced herself to move on, why was the pain almost more than she could bear?

Mariel waited for a giant wave to crash onto the shore before screaming into the sea.