7. Cecilia

7

CECILIA

T he Castle Savero training room, with its stony walls and hay mats, was a far cry from Cecilia's cozy cottage in Olney, but she made do. The few pieces of routine that she held onto kept her going.

She'd held on the the irrational hope that Rainer would know her on sight. But that hope was dashed when he'd only been mildly flustered, with none of the usual warmth in his eyes.

Cecilia could not make Rainer remember her, but she could move as she always did in the morning and hope to quiet her mind. Her body, however, remained agitated, waiting for a blow that never arrived.

Each morning, she stretched, testing the borders of herself, prodding the tender places in her soul to see if her body, made foreign by fear, was a home again. But most days she still felt shipwrecked on the shores of a nightmare, unable to let down her guard.

When her muscles felt pleasantly warm and limber, she sat with her back against the wall on the side of the room with no windows or doors so she could see every approach. Her new vigilance made it impossible to meditate if she sat anywhere else. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to sense the confidence in herself that once felt like a reflex and now eluded her.

Her survival now relied on her ability to lie, and she'd always been a terrible liar. Rainer used to tease her, saying that she had a face for telling the truth because she was too expressive to hide her true feelings.

Now, her contempt had taken on a life of its own. Seething anger burned through her like a fever that refused to break, waiting for the slightest push to send her over the edge. She was furious at Vincent, at the Spellmans, but mostly she was furious at herself—for not doing more in the moment to save herself and Rainer. It was easier to live with the anger than it was to embrace the relentless fear that lived beneath it.

The idea came to her in the quiet, as if summoned by her desperation. Taking a page out of Sylvie's book, Cecilia would rely on her beauty and stature to fool people into forgetting that she was strong. Better that Vincent's men think she was a lovely, helpless lady than a powerful goddess with a seemingly bottomless well of rage to pull from. After all, there was nothing weak men loved more than seeing a powerful woman humbled.

For the first time, Cecilia was happy to be seen as a soft flower when she knew herself to be a wild, feral thing. How far she'd come from resenting her position as a lady.

No one looked at her and saw a beast born of thorns. Instead, they saw someone small and timid, with a smile that inspired apathy. She couldn't wait to rip apart everyone who had betrayed them.

Memory loss might have made Rainer meaner, darker, more vindictive, but betrayal and hurt did it for her. She'd pour every ounce of it into taking revenge on those who swept a victory out from under them.

Grant walked by the training room door, pausing to give her a menacing glare. She was sure he wouldn't remember how he'd gotten that nasty scar on his neck, but he looked at her like he didn't trust her anyway.

Look at this beautiful face while I slice you apart , she thought .

The guard leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowing on her. He couldn't possibly know that she'd slipped an herb into her usual guards' morning tea that would keep them all in the bathroom for the day. But he distrusted her all the same.

Grant shook his head but left her in peace.

Cecilia shivered. It was impossible to stay warm in Argaria. Back home, the winters were mild, but Ardenis was frigid, the wind biting, whistling through every fissure in the castle's walls and leaving her chilled even after exercise.

She brushed her thumb over the crescent scar on her hand.

She'd lost Rainer—thankfully not to the god of death, but to a hole that she'd created in his mind. It had been a special kind of suffering to pull herself out of him one memory at a time. She had relived each tender moment while he lost it.

Worst of all, she knew memory was the base on which personality was built. Removing herself from Rainer's memory might have made him different to begin with, but she was woven into most of his developmental memories. She had no idea what would happen to the very core of the man she loved.

The questions remained. Who would Rainer have been if he'd never met her? If he'd never been bonded to her? If he hadn't grown roots that wrapped around her own? The bloody scene she'd seen the day before terrified her. He'd looked like a beautiful, bloody god of vengeance. She should have been horrified, and part of her was, but another, darker part of her was satisfied that he'd viciously killed two of the guards who had held her down while Vincent scarred her body and soul. Still, she worried that he'd lost all the sweetness that made him so unique and wonderful to her—a warrior who was better suited to caretaking.

The truth was that she'd never realized how desolate her life was without him. Through everything that happened, every trial and challenge, Rainer had been beside her, in one way or another. Suddenly, she was on her own.

If Vincent thought he could take Rainer away from her, he was in for the fight of his life and she had no problem playing dirty .

Cecilia was woven into Rainer like vines and roots, and no one would be able to pull them apart. It didn't matter if Rainer remembered her. She would remember for both of them.

She'd become accustomed to sensing his proximity as she moved about the castle, praying for any glimpse of him she could get. She felt him growing closer, the bond wrapped around her heart humming. Even without his knowing it was there, the connection felt like an anchor, holding him to her, grounding her so she wouldn't float off into fear.

Scrambling back onto the mats, she went through her stretch routine. She paused when she felt Rainer's eyes on her as she slid her chest along the ground, keeping her backside high. A rush of surprise and desire shot through their connection and she bit back a laugh. Rainer not remembering the bond meant he didn't shield his emotions from her at all and now that he was close she could sense him stronger than ever.

"Guardian McKay, if you stare at my ass any longer, I'm going to have to charge admission to the training room." Cecilia glanced at him over her shoulder.

Rainer cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot. "Your guards are sick, or else they refuse to watch you."

Cecilia smirked. She'd beaten up the three guards Vincent sent the previous day and although he'd threatened to throw her in the tower, getting away with it in the first place let her know she was too valuable to him to be locked away. It emboldened her to sneak an herbal laxative into her guards' breakfast.

Now Vincent had sent Rainer to watch her as some sort of test.

That information was interesting. Vincent saw her as a way to strengthen his image to anyone at court who was hedging their bets. According to word they'd received from Evan, the announcement of her engagement to Vincent had not been received well by the common people. They were still starry-eyed over her fairy tale love story with Rainer, and they would not be so easily swayed.

"The king has assigned me to keep an eye on you today," Rainer said stiffly .

"On me?"

"Yes."

"But not on my ass specifically?"

He bristled, narrowing his eyes. "Is your ass not part of you?"

Cecilia grinned at him. "Yes. You seem to find it my most compelling attribute."

"Isn't that better than being compelled by your ability to drive all of your guards away? I'm just here for the day on a temporary assignment—to keep you in line."

"Keep me in line?" She hopped to her feet and turned to face him. "And how do you think you'll do such a thing?"

He swallowed hard, his eyes focused on her lips as her teeth dragged across them. She was determined to do anything she could to capture his attention.

He shook his head as if trying to rid himself of a bad idea. "We just need to get you on a regular schedule. There is no problem a bit of discipline can't solve."

Her sweet rule-following Rainer—that was apparently who he would have been had she not been in his life. Her mind briefly flashed to the sight of him covered with blood after he'd killed three guards with his bare hands the day before, but she pushed the memory away. He could be both things: rule-following and explosively angry.

She trailed her fingers down the front of his velvet tunic. "So if I misbehave, you'll be in charge of…disciplining me?"

Rainer went rigid. "I think you mistake my meaning."

"I don't think I do," she said. "I must warn you, punishment from you will likely only serve to inspire naughty behavior."

Rainer's eyes went wide. "What sort of queen speaks in such a way?"

"I'm not a queen," she said plainly. "I'm just a lady."

"A lady with a filthy mouth."

"Indeed. I'll have you know speaking is the least filthy thing it does. Perhaps if you punish me you'll find out firsthand."

Rainer took a step back and she nearly burst out laughing at how wide his eyes were. Years of Xander's flirting had taught Cecilia a thing or two.

"Guardian McKay, are you afraid of me?"

He stood up straighter. "You're being terribly inappropriate."

"According to who?"

Rainer scowled. "According to basically any rules of decorum for how to behave in court as a betrothed woman—as a future queen ."

"I find that behaving and following rules is a terrible bore. It's much more fun to break them, but if I've violated some rule, then I submit myself for punishment." She walked to the table and bent over it dramatically, leaving her ass poised on the edge. She propped her head in her hand so she could watch him.

"What…what are you doing?"

"Preparing for my punishment."

Rainer finally laughed, more in disbelief than amusement. "Is this how you scared off your other guards?"

"Is there something scary about me bending over to take my punishment for being a naughty girl?"

"No, there's something scary about the king's betrothed trying to seduce anyone stupid enough to have a death wish. Get up."

Cecilia turned so that she sat on the edge of the table, swinging her legs. "Does this mean I'm not being disciplined? That's disappointing. Things were just getting interesting."

"You are a lovely menace," Rainer said, shaking his head.

"So you think I'm lovely?"

He sighed heavily. "You seem overly familiar with me. We must have known each other before."

"Or perhaps I'm just trying to embrace my role as future queen by making sure that everyone feels at home in my castle."

"Well, you're making me uncomfortable."

Cecilia cocked an eyebrow. "Really? The good kind? Or the bad kind?"

"There's a good kind of uncomfortable?" Rainer asked.

"Of course. The bad kind of uncomfortable makes you want to shrink away, hide, pull back. But the good kind—" She hopped off the table and walked toward him. She drew her fingers down his chest and circled him. The scratch of her nails on his velvet tunic deafening in the silent room. "The good kind makes you want to push forward, keep going. It excites and inspires. It makes your heart race."

She met his gaze and desire slipped through their bond.

Thank gods. He's still in there .

He leaned down, his cheek nearly brushing hers, and she went perfectly still. His breath danced over the shell of her ear.

"The bad kind," he whispered before drawing back and stepping away from her. "I'm not interested in your body other than to keep it from harm."

It hurt to hear even if desire surged from his side of their connection.

"What about my sparkling personality?" she asked with a grin.

He shook his head. "You aren't easily discouraged, I'll give you that."

"Nothing would discourage me from trying to win you over, Guardian McKay. I think you're worth the effort."

"Come. We have to go to lunch with the king," Rainer said.

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I think I'd like to go outside."

"You're not allowed outside."

"Not allowed?" She scoffed. "I'm the queen-to-be and a grown woman. Why would I not be allowed to go outside?"

Rainer's brow furrowed. He clearly couldn't think of a good answer, which meant that Vincent hadn't figured out a good way to contain her. It was perfect because if she could get to the stables, she could drop off a message about the new guard patrol timing with the only stable hand they knew they could trust. The man had been taking care of stashing messages behind a loose stone in the outer courtyard wall—a place that Xander and Cecilia couldn't consistently get to without raising suspicion. It was one of the places where Evan and Xander had hidden messages to each other growing up and it was far enough removed from the gates that Evan could easily reach it undetected .

"I have a purpose," Cecilia said. "I heard there are new wild horses that they brought in to be broken by the stable master. I'd like to see them."

"You like to ride?"

"No, I love to ride. But I also know horses and I want to make sure they're treated properly."

Rainer faltered. "I don't know?—"

"Guardian McKay, if you need to be at that lunch with the king, please don't let me delay you. I'll be but a few moments late."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm going with you. It's my job to be your shadow."

"Lucky me to have such a handsome man trailing me," she said as she brushed by him.

She didn't bother with a cloak as she dashed down the hallway, through the heavy wooden door, and out into the sunlight. The icy air stole her breath momentarily. Having not been outside in days, the cold was a welcome change from the stifling castle.

She tilted her chin up to the sun, hidden behind gray clouds but still bright, her breath rising like tiny puffy clouds.

She turned abruptly and started toward the stables with Rainer on her heels. Instead of going inside, she cut around to the side fields, attracted by shouting.

As they approached, they saw a man lying in the dirt and a wild horse running around agitatedly.

"What's wrong?" Cecilia asked.

"My lady." Both of the stable hands bowed. "The stable master was kicked and we can't get to him because the horse is so agitated."

Cecilia stared at the beautiful black and gray mare pacing behind the fence as if daring them to come near her.

"What's her name?" Cecilia asked.

"Tempest," the man said.

"All right then."

Rainer reached for her, but he was too slow. She jumped the fence and walked toward the horse. Rainer shouted her name, but she ignored him .

Tempest let out a whinny and bucked. Cecilia picked up the rope the stable master had dropped.

"There, there, girl, it's okay. Tempest, right? That name suits you," Cecilia said.

"Lady Reznik, come back here right now. It's not safe," Rainer hissed.

"Guardian McKay," she said in a singsong voice, "please stay calm and keep your voice low. Horses sense fear and anger."

She took another step toward the horse. Tempest stilled, allowing her another step.

"They want to keep you in this little space. I understand. It's not fair when you're meant to be wild. But do you know what? You just have to play the game. Give them what they want for now. But as soon as you get the chance, you can run off. You just have to play the game for now, girl."

By the time she finished talking, she was close enough that she could touch the horse. She gently ran a hand down Tempest's neck and the horse let out a discontented whinny.

"I know. It's dreadfully cold. I hate it, too. We can get you a blanket, you know. Just let me get you on this lead, okay?" She carefully looped the rope around the horse's neck. "Good girl," she soothed, rubbing a hand down the horse's neck slowly. "All right, let's go."

She led the horse gently away from the stable master, who was struggling to his feet. The two stable hands rushed in and one helped the stable master away.

A third stable hand stepped toward Cecilia. She recognized him by the scarlet ribbon slipped through the buttonhole in his tunic. She slipped the note from her pocket and tucked it into her hand with the rope as she passed it to him.

"She needs to be in a larger field. This is much too small. Let her spend a week running there before you try to bring her back here and then let her run here for a week before you try to do more. She's too wild for these walls," Cecilia said, blinking away tears.

The stable hand nodded. "Message received, my lady."

She turned and walked back to the fence against which Rainer leaned, a hand on his head as if struggling with a headache. When she finally climbed back over and looked at Rainer, his face was inscrutable.

"That was very reckless," Rainer huffed.

She forced her face into a smirk. "Don't be such a fun-sucker. I knew she'd be okay. You, on the other hand, look a little worse for the wear."

"Just a headache," Rainer said, waving her off. "You've done that before."

She was certain he meant for it to be a question, but it came out like a statement and she wondered if it was possible that he was remembering something from their youth—a day when she'd hopped into the pen with one of her father's wild horses and Rainer had been similarly outraged. Her father had lectured him for an hour afterward.

She tried so hard not to hope. She knew she needed to be patient. But hope was a reckless thing that grew in even the most inhospitable environment.

Rainer looked down at her horse-shit-covered boots. "You'll need to change."

"Don't be ridiculous," Cecilia said with a wink. "We shouldn't keep the king waiting."