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Chapter 21

Bran stood alone in near darkness in the deserted training yard, his legs spread shoulder wide, and his knees slightly bent. He held a throwing dagger in his right hand and could barely make out the three wooden dummies which stood about twenty yards away from him as dusk quickly turned to night.

Sweat poured down from his head, running in rivulets down his sculpted body and soaking through to his boots. Naked to the waist, his shirt and coat hung from a peg in the far wall. On any other day, it would have been death to be outdoors and shirtless in the grip of autumn but Bran did not feel the cold. All he felt was a sharp, white pain, that refused to go away, no matter what he did.

The practice dummies were riddled with over a dozen knives each, and none were in the dirt. Bran's precision was uncanny even in the gathering night. He did not need to see to guide his aim. He tried to channel his sorrows into each blade, throwing them with as much force as he could muster into the targets in front of him.

It didn't work, unfortunately. His sorrows appeared to be bottomless, and there was no end to the empty sadness he felt. He wanted to scream until his voice cracked. He suppressed the urge, and instead threw another dagger with so much force, the entire blade buried itself in the target, up to the hilt.

He was devastated beyond measure. He had been in the training yard for hours now, and his arms were burning from the effort of hurling the daggers at the targets, but he kept going.

Three agonizing days had passed since the last time Bran had seen Idalia before her conversation with Andrew.

He hated how he had stalked out and how it must have looked to Idalia and his brother, but he could not stand to see them like that. He knew the anger he felt was unjustified.

Idalia had personally begged him to change his mind, challenging him to keep her for himself. Andrew had protested his decision as well, refusing to go along with it initially. The counsel had questioned his reasons and asked him to reconsider his choices.

With the wedding between Idalia and Andrew happening the next day, Bran finally realized how wrong he had been. The wheels he had put in motion were careening downhill at breakneck speed, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to turn it around or stop the wagon from flying off its course.

Bran felt he was going insane. He wondered what sort of foolishness must have come upon him when he had made the decision in the first place. Yes, his intentions had been noble, but how could it be that he had not anticipated how much pain seeing them together would cause him?

He realized he had not had the opportunity to apologize to Idalia for the day he had stalked out of the training ground so angrily. He had been so consumed with rage and jealousy, he was halfway up to his chambers before he realized what he had done.

He had tried to see her afterwards but was informed she had headed into town with Andrew. The information had filled his mouth with bile and had sickened him to his stomach. That day, he returned to his chambers fuming with rage and on the brink of committing carnage.

He considered the possibility of seeking them out, but admitted to himself how ridiculous he would look, going after them like that. Not only would it be disrespectful to Andrew, but it would also reflect very badly on him.

It was one thing to make a decision, it was another matter entirely to live with the repercussions of that decision.

Over the next three days, he made persistent attempts to seek Idalia out. He told himself that the only reason he did so was because he wished to apologize to her for his earlier actions. He knew it was a convenient lie. In reality, all he wanted was an opportunity to see her again. He was willing to do anything to speak to her, albeit just the once.

He couldn't deny how much he missed her. All their memories left a bittersweet feeling in Bran's mind, and he didn't know whether to enjoy the recollections or despise them because he would probably never have such feelings again.

Unfortunately, despite his numerous notes and attempts to see Idalia, he couldn't seem to find her anywhere. It became clear to him that Idalia was ignoring him intentionally, and the realization broke him further. Moreover, she seemed to be doing her best to warm up to Andrew, and that unsettled him deeply.

The news shouldn't have come as a surprise to him, seeing how they were engaged to be married. He had found out that they spent almost all their time together, took long walks, and could hardly be separated from each other for any amount of time. Their relationship became the only thing spoken about in the castle, and Bran couldn't take two steps at a time without hearing a mention of the beautiful couple.

On the other hand, Andrew could not stop talking about her. He constantly made comments about her grand sense of humor, how interesting she was as a woman, how nice she was, and how beautiful she was when she smiled.

Bran couldn't figure out if Andrew said all those things to rile him up and get a reaction from him. Every time he spoke about Idalia, Bran would always catch Andrew watching his every move. He tried as hard as he could to keep a straight face, but it was hard to keep all the emotions warring inside him from spilling out.

Earlier, he had seen them returning from a walk in the gardens. Idalia's arm had been locked in Andrew's, and they had laughed easily like children at a fair. He watched them with bitterness and wondered what it was Andrew had told her that amused her so. It was the sight of the two of them together that had driven him out to the practice yard, throwing daggers with the force of crossbow bolts.

He could not stand to see them spend another minute together, the thought of it boiled his insides. As he smashed yet another dagger into an unfortunate target, the cold reality dawned on him that he couldn't possibly allow Idalia and Andrew to get married.

He just couldn't. He had no idea what to do about it, and the council would probably challenge his objection, but he didn't care.

He didn't care if Andrew thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He didn't care if Idalia had started to develop feelings for Andrew. He certainly didn't care about what the council thought or decided. As he hurled another dagger into the head of the dummy, he knew the only thing he cared about was being with Idalia.

He had always known.

He flung the last dagger at the target furthest from him, and was rewarded with a loud, satisfying thwack. A cold wind blew across the training yard and bit into his skin. In that moment, the fatigue and cold overpowered him. The sense of purpose evaporated as quickly as it had come, and he picked up his shirt and jacket from the wall, feeling defeated as he left.

Idalia was going to get married to Andrew the next day, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The knowledge settled on him like an unbelievable weight, and he lacked the strength and the will to get it off him. He trudged up the stairs to his room.

He arrived one floor before the top one and looked down the hallway. Idalia's room was just down the hall, and he could see some light spilling out from under the door. He stood still for a long moment, staring longingly at her door.

Without thinking, he shuffled forward until he was standing in front it with his hand raised. Before he could change his mind, he knocked firmly on the door, squeezed his eyes shut, and cursed quietly. There was no turning back for him as he waited for Idalia to open the door.

There was no response, however, and Bran began wondering if she wasn't in her chamber as he had initially assumed.

He knew he shouldn't be there, and he was just about to leave when the door opened suddenly. Idalia stood before the door, wearing nothing but a night shift and soft slippers.

She gasped when she saw Bran and blushed a furious red as she looked away from him. Only then did it register in Bran's mind that he was still shirtless. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it at that moment, so Idalia would have to tolerate his indecency while he said his mind.

"I'm sorry," Bran said. "I need tae speak with ye, please."

"That's too bad, seeing how I have nothing to say to you," Idalia said sharply, regaining her composure a little bit. She swung the door shut, trying to close it on Bran, but he moved swiftly to block it with a booted foot.

"Idalia, please," he begged. "I will only be a minute. Please."

"Now you want to speak to me?" she asked, crossing her arms on her chest.

Bran leaned forward on the door frame; his leg still wedged in the doorway. "Actually, I have been meaning tae speak with ye for a long time."

"And yet, you didn't," Idalia fired off. "So, why didn't you?"

Bran looked around the hallway and turned back to the door. "Idalia, please can I come in? It would nae be proper for me to be seen outside yer room like this on the eve o' yer wedding to my brother. Please, let me in."

Idalia considered his words and saw sense in what he said. Grudgingly, she opened the door wider and stepped aside to admit him into her chambers. Bran dashed in quickly, almost as if he was afraid she would change her mind if he did not move fast enough.

"Well, then," Idalia said, shutting the door behind her. "What do you want? Why have you sought me out at such an hour?"

"I wanted tae tell ye how sorry I am," Bran replied softly. The words felt heavy in his mouth. "I am very sorry for that evening in the garden and for everything I said. And it's true, ye were completely right about me. I was nae thinking about ye when I made the decision tae pass ye on tae Andrew. I've tried tae convince myself that I was right, that I did all o' this for ye. But it's nae the truth. The truth is I was scared, so scared. I'm still very scared o' everything. Scared o' me feelings, scared o' the situation, scared I will nae be able tae protect ye, and scared of admitting tae myself what me feelings are for ye. Still, it does nae change the fact that marrying me is a bad idea, Idalia."

Idalia walked towards Bran and stood in front of him. He had his head bowed and his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Bran could feel her in front of him. He could feel the warmth pouring out of her as she stood silently and regarded him. He could not bear to look at her face for fear of her anger.

Idalia reached out a hand to Bran's chin, and the touch caused an explosion of light in his mind. He struggled to keep himself under control, her touch setting his body on fire. She lifted his chin with her fingers until his eyes met hers. Surprisingly, Bran saw none of the anger or embarrassment he had seen earlier.

Idalia held his gaze for a long moment before speaking, her voice soft like fresh snow. "Tell me, Bran. What are these feelings that you are refusing to accept, that terrify you so much?"

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