“I will.”
“You won’t be affected when I am rifling through proposals to sign away my life?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “No.”
“And at my wedding?” she said numbly. “When I am sent off for the ceremonies? Or if the wedding is here?”
“Either way, I shall.”
How was he so calm when she felt she might burst?
“And,” she said, the lump in her throat on the verge of choking her, “you will be there when I am given no choice and France inevitably brings its skirmishes closer, and I am forced to bed the king or prince I marry?—”
“Eleanor,” he warned.
“And bear his children?”
The crack in his composure was gone. He nodded slowly. “You have my word. And your offspring, too, will have my protection.” His expression was stern, otherwise open. As if he thought these things should be no question of him at all.
If Garin considered her protection his duty, then he would not show her what he truly felt when it came to matters of the heart.
But she had to know. “You told me that night in my chamber,” Lilac said, almost unable to finish the sentence, feeling so foolish, reddening further as she wiped another tear from her cheek. “You said you would always want me.”
“Yes.” His answer was unflinching. “Nothing about that has changed. If anything, it has grown even more true.”
He should have lied. She wished he did.
Even hearing what she wanted, the rage inside her stoked hotter, and she stamped her foot. “Then why? If you are willing to go through all thosethings, why would you watch me proceed with a betrothal?” She paced away toward the mantle, her trembling voice rising. “How can you entertain watching me marry a person I do not love, be forced by the threat of war to bear their offspring to secure my place and secure their dowry of land and ports, knowing that I never wished those things for myself? How can you, Garin, if you feel as you say?”
His reply was slow and sure, void of any hesitation. “Because it’s the life you deserve. You deserve someone to match your stride and back you with forces that keep enemy powers at bay.”
“And if the life you believe I deserve is not the life I want?”
“What other choice do you have?” His eyes blazed into hers, finally angry at her questioning. “What else could you want?” He crossed his arms, quietly assessing her, then spoke skeptically. “You don’t want those things? Never dreamed of them? With anyone?”
“Does that bother you?” she whispered back.
He only exhaled in answer, swallowing whatever he was going to say with his jaw clenched. He laughed briefly and ran a hand over his face as he strode away from her, toward the corner of the bed.
Then, he stopped when she began to speak.
“There were days spent in my tower, Garin, where my grief felt so heavy that I could not picture a future for myself at all. Sometimes I could not even picture the next day. It is hard to hope for things when you are caged inside your own mind and tower. So, forgive me for not knowing what it is I want. What future would I possibly have dreamt of, when the only one ever optioned to me was Sinclair?”
“He is not your only option,” he retorted, but his face twisted. That, he could not mask. “Not now.”
“If my only options are Sinclair and anyonenotSinclair, then why bother?” she shouted. “I should have married him! Their family already heads my local armies, unprepared as they might be—it would have been less of a burden on you to worry about.” She didn’t mean it, of course, but the words cut him deep enough.
“All right, Your Majesty,” he said with a mocking bow, motioning at her. “What is it you want?”
The question caught her off guard.
“Tell me. More time with me? Forever?” He clicked his tongue. “Foreverin your delicate, mortal terms? Or on the other side of eternity?” he offered coolly, glancing back at the chamber door. “You think I won’t give that to you? You’d be enslaved then, but at least it would be to your own bloodlust and not mine. At least then, there would be no concern of me thralling you. You know what? I’ll get Bast in here right now. My brother would happily slit your neck with his blood forced down that pretty throat of yours. I’ll only have to say the word.”
A set of sharp raps came at the door, as if the others had been listening all this time. Meriam’s voice floated through. “Garin Trevelyan! I willnothave the death of the queen under my roof!”
“Ready the carriage,” Garin barked.
Lilac marched up to him, snatching her bag. She would not be forced out and humiliated further. “I would rather suffer the poor consequences of beingyourthrall than marry a stranger.”
