34. Rainer

34

RAINER

R ainer slumped into the red velvet chair, wishing it would swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to make excuses to Eloise. Her sitting room was tidy in a way that should have made him feel at ease but instead left him looking for anything that needed further neatening. Never had he craved a mess, and yet now, he felt useless with nothing to do with his hands.

She filled his teacup to the brim for the fourth time. He'd barely had more than a sip each time, but Eloise was clearly equally restless. She licked her lips, her green eyes fixed on him as if searching him for any remaining connection to Cecilia.

"How are you feeling?" Eloise asked.

Empty was the first word that came into his mind. Wrong. Obliterated. Sore . He resisted the urge to rub his sternum where a heavy ache had settled in. It wasn't just that he felt hollowed out; everyone acted like it was normal, but whatever Cecilia had done to him had burrowed deep inside his chest. Though he'd initially been happy to be free of it, it didn't feel like a broken spell. It felt like an agonizing loss. He felt robbed of something vital. When he was anxious now, there was no soft wave of calm that spread through his chest. There was only the climbing panic that choked him .

Rainer was so furious at Cecilia for tricking him into loving her. He waited for the fury to carry away the residual feelings, but the dregs of love for her remained. He was so heavy with guilt, haunted by the memory of the prince carrying her away as she sobbed.

Eloise was looking at him expectantly.

"A bit sore," he said.

She nodded, short and curt, looking out the window at the sky full of fluffy clouds. He knew he should apologize and say something comforting, but he was at a loss.

Beyond the physical ache lay a deeper wound. Rainer couldn't remember a time when his heart hadn't felt broken, but just when he'd realized it could be healed, Cecilia smashed it.

Even if their relationship was tense, she had the king of Argaria. What had she wanted from Rainer?

Perhaps he'd underestimated her boredom. He'd been fighting his whole life, but fighting with her had been exhilarating, and he had failed to see a tiny blue-eyed witch as a threat. He'd been entirely unprepared for how quickly her magic had brought him into her thrall, how real their history had felt to him even with no memory of it.

Still, as he thought of her smirk now, his heart kicked up.

He hated her for making him love her. Hated her more for making him realize he didn't feel what he thought he did. Now, the consolation was a fiancée he'd betrayed who would always doubt his love. He'd never be able to give up proving himself.

He couldn't be mad at Eloise. She'd done nothing wrong. She was just caught in the middle of Cecilia's magical game. Collateral damage in her scheme. Still, Rainer had a sense that Cecilia had somehow destroyed what he had with Eloise with her mere existence, but now he'd felt something for Cecilia—magical or not—that he knew he did not feel for the woman he was supposed to marry tomorrow.

Eloise sat rigidly, her hands fastened in her lap, ankles tucked beneath her chair. She was a lovely picture of hurt and he did not know how to begin to apologize. The first step in a lifetime of groveling would need to be a good one.

"Eloise," he said softly.

Her gaze locked with his and she looked as frightened by what he might say as he was.

"I owe you an apology. I was unfaithful when you have been nothing but true to me. You have been honest, and I've been weak, and you deserve much better. I take full responsibility for my actions."

"You have a good heart, but even you are not immune to magic's influence," Eloise said, with more anger than he'd expected.

"I'm afraid that I was more susceptible to it than I should have been as a man with a fiancée. I feel unworthy of your forgiveness." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain himself. "I feel as though—and this isn't meant to be an excuse so much as an explanation—I've been struggling to place myself, to prove myself in so many different areas since I woke up. I didn't know how to prove myself as worthy of you or worthy of the king's trust, and it was easier to distract myself with someone who wasn't available."

"Why?" Eloise asked.

"Because if I failed with her, there was a good reason. She's engaged to the king, or at least she was."

Eloise huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, it seems she's still engaged. Gods know we should have the king checked for her meddling as well."

Her words brought to mind the one thing that nagged at him. Almost the entire time Rainer had been around Cecilia, she'd been cut off from her magic, with the exception of the time she'd been in the cell to search Reese Reynolds's memories. She was dosed with Godsbane each morning and wore an Unsummoner bracelet all day to smother her magic.

"What I'm still confused about, and frankly afraid of, is that Lady Reznik has been cut off from her power this whole time, so how exactly did she manage to cast a love spell on me? "

Eloise's eyes went wide. "She could have had another witch cast it. I'm not sure how spells work. Or perhaps she did not need access to her power to cast it. I'm not a witch, so I couldn't say, but they sell love potions in the market."

Rainer frowned, remembering how Cecilia had rolled her eyes at such a booth, saying that it was nonsense. She'd been adamant that there was no magic that could make someone love you. She'd said all magic required an exchange and nothing was valuable enough to grant love.

The memory of those words left him feeling gutted.

What if that was true? As much as he wanted to write off everything she'd said, he hadn't fallen in love with her all at once. It had happened slowly, in smaller moments. Watching her fearlessly shoot her bow to maim Vincent's guards. Lying beside him in the snow, calling him a fun-sucker. Gazing up at the night sky, looking for a star to wish on.

If she was able to cast magic, and if that magic could bring her something as potent as love, why had she needed wishes?

But it wasn't just that thought that made him uneasy. It was the fact that he remembered learning about exchange magic in classes while training for the Gauntlet. He knew for a fact that all magic had a cost and—much as he'd tried since the spell had been broken—he could not think of a single thing of equal value to love.

He cleared his throat and took a long sip of tea, trying to clear all the questions from his mind.

"El, what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry. I am embarrassed of my behavior, ashamed that I let you down, and unsure how to fix things. If you want to break our engagement and find someone who knows what they have in you, I wouldn't blame you."

The words felt hollow and he wondered if Eloise could tell. He felt almost relieved by the opportunity to bail out. Things had moved much too quickly since he woke and he felt unable to keep up.

"I don't want that. I want to marry you, Rainer," Eloise said, sitting up straighter in her chair. "What we have is too important for this kingdom and too valuable to me to let a meaningless fling ruin it. I know you probably think that I won't be able to let this go, especially with that little bitch parading around as queen. But His Highness came to me this morning and offered his apologies for not keeping her on a tighter leash. He has offered a solution. They will be wed just a week after us. They are announcing it to the court today."

Rainer frowned. "Isn't she still in mourning?"

Eloise's face twisted in confusion. "For whom?"

"The fiancé she lost in the attack."

Eloise cocked her head to the side, and when she spoke, her words were slow as if she was being careful. "His Grace has agreed it's for the best to provide a happy occasion to lift her from the grief that has made her so restless. Plus, he's very eager for heirs."

Rainer looked away, a sick feeling settling in his stomach when he remembered the bruises on Cecilia's face and neck. Even if she'd manipulated Rainer, the thought of her forever tied to someone who hit her made him feel sick. It was idiotic to protect someone who'd tried to control him, but he felt compelled to anyway.

Eloise crossed the room to him, sitting on the arm of his chair. "Now, stop beating yourself up and go apologize to the king. It will make you feel better. I just want to put this all behind us so that we can have a lovely wedding and start our lives together."

She pulled him into a kiss that was nice but still felt somehow wrong. When he drew away, there was a question in her eyes, but she kept her mouth shut.

"Thank you, El. I don't deserve you. I will do better from now on," he said, bending to kiss her hand.

He knew she was waiting for more excitement and enthusiasm, but he just felt spent and he dreaded his conversation with Vincent. He turned and left her alone, cutting down the hall toward the throne room, where he was relieved to find Vincent and Grant alone.

"Your Majesty," Rainer said, bowing, looking to Grant and hoping he'd leave. When the guard remained, he turned his attention back to Vincent. "I came to apologize. I am embarrassed and ashamed of my behavior."

Vincent grinned at him, looking down his nose from his throne. " Rainer, Rainer, Rainer, I would fault you if I did not understand the appeal. My fiancée is a stunning and very talented woman. It is I who should be apologizing to you for not keeping her well in hand."

Rainer nodded, feeling suddenly awkward, his gaze darting to Grant, who was always lurking and now was doing little to bite back a smug look of delight at Rainer's failure.

"Yes, well, I'm still sorry."

"For what exactly? For touching what belongs to me?"

Rainer tried not to grind his teeth together. Their culture might have embraced the notion that women belonged to their betrothed, but Cecilia always seemed so self-assured it was hard to imagine her belonging to anyone but herself.

"Yes," Rainer said, trying to sound light. "I should not have been tempted."

Vincent rubbed his chin as he studied Rainer. "Tell me. What did you do with my wife-to-be?"

Rainer's eyes went wide, darting around the throne room. The door was closed. It was just the three of them, but he was still uncomfortable discussing what went on behind closed doors. It only added further insult that it had felt so intimate and real to him.

Vincent waved a hand, urging him on.

Rainer cleared his throat. "We mostly just kissed, but she was naked."

"Were you?" Vincent asked.

Shaking his head, Rainer continued, "I was not, but I still—" He searched for an appropriate word.

"Finished?" Vincent offered.

"Yes."

Grant fought off a smile. "In your pants like a teenager?"

Rainer felt his cheeks heat from anger more than humiliation.

Vincent held up a hand to silence his guard. "Don't give him a hard time. Cecilia is a very passionate woman and he was compelled by magic. Is that all you did, McKay? I'm counting on your honesty here since I know she'll be selective with her account of events."

"No, sir, she also used her mouth on me the previous day. "

Vincent's eyebrows shot up and Rainer had no idea what to expect from him. His eyes narrowed and then he burst out laughing.

"Well, no wonder you were so besotted. I half fell in love with the whore at your bachelor party," Vincent chuckled.

Rainer was disgusted but he needed Vincent's forgiveness before he could leave. As much as the king liked to make people squirm, Rainer knew it was little price to pay for such a huge offense.

Vincent's grin turned feral. "I appreciate how forthcoming you've been and I will see that Cecilia leaves you alone and is properly disciplined for her troublemaking. If I am honest, I'm quite desperate to get my lovely fiancée into the bedroom and get a chance at the hot little mouth that dazzled you right out of your duty. Obviously, she's quite a fiery woman and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dying to make her mine."

Vincent studied him, waiting for a reaction like he was trying to test Rainer's loyalty yet again. When he got none, he tried a different tactic.

"I'll have to be careful, of course. I can be quite rough in the bedroom and that fair skin marks so easily."

Rainer bit the inside of his lip until it bled. He was careful not to react, even though the words made him want to throttle the king.

"Perhaps I'll go get a preview now," Vincent said, grinning at Grant. He turned his gaze back on Rainer, looking disappointed at his lack of affect. "Very well. It seems you are out of her thrall. I accept your heartfelt apology and I look forward to your wedding and mine so we can put this whole mess behind us."

Rainer nodded, bowing and turning to leave before what little self-control he had left abandoned him.

Back in his room, Rainer couldn't rid himself of the thought of anything but Cecilia, so he made his way down to his secret spot on the castle wall. The icy wind almost tore the door off its hinges when he thrust it open, but Rainer didn't care. The cold made him feel grounded as he wrapped his knuckles and faced the grain bag.

He punched furiously at it, ignoring the way each strike jolted up his arms and the ache that set into his knuckles immediately .

He tried to pull up any other memory. Unfortunately, the memories that he was left with—the ones that were the clearest—were all those sharpened by his father's cruelty.

Rainer punched the bag harder, his father's face invading his mind. The wind tore at him like it was trying to break him from his trance, but he was locked in.

Raymond McKay had built himself up from nothing, and so his eyes were constantly searching out some real or imagined imperfection in his son so that Rainer could do the same.

Rainer was eighteen when his mother died, old enough to know what it was to be willfully mean. When he was younger, she'd been a buffer of sorts, if not between them all the time then at least between Rainer and his pain. His father never hit him. He showed his disappointment in other ways.

It started with disparaging words, offhand comments to his instructors or other nobles when Rainer didn't rank at the top of the guardian class. But then it would spill over into breaking Rainer's favorite bow, burning his favorite histories or—worse—his mother's favorite things, most of which were irreplaceable pieces of art made for her by a friend. Rainer would come home and find his mother staring into the hearth at the remnants of a painting. She'd shake her head and tell him it was not his fault, but he knew it was how his father liked to get to him most.

After Maura died, it was like Raymond thrilled more in destroying what was left of her, and every hand-painted teacup broken and painting burned was like a barb in Rainer's heart. Like Raymond took joy in erasing what little memory his son had of kindness.

He might have stopped if it wasn't effective punishment. But each time Rainer came home and found the ruins, he'd run out for a workout before he even cleaned up the mess. Eventually, he trained himself not to care too much about anything that his father had the power to break.

His side spasmed in a sharp cramp. Finally, he stopped punching, leaning against the wall, breathless, his shirt clinging to his skin with sweat growing icy in the cold.

And though he'd woken with those memories as his only anchor, he'd forgotten the way that hurt grew inside him in every silence. Once again it felt like someone had broken something Rainer cared about to remind him how to focus, and he only had himself to blame for loving in the first place.