With a dose of retribution.
But what I hadn’t expected was her. Poppy. Any preconceived notions I’d had about her had been wrong. Poppy wasn’t quiet and submissive, nor was she a willing participant. She was like so many others who either didn’t know better or, out of self-preservation, didn’t want to look too closely at all the things that didn’t add up around them. I hadn’t wanted her to be kind, but I could’ve dealt with that. What I couldn’t deal with was how brave she was. How much of a fighter she was.
I hadn’t expected to like the Maiden, not enough that I would strive to make her happy, smile, and laugh.
I hadn’t expected to care for the Maiden, not enough that I would sit and think of another way for this to work. For me to get what I needed and for her to have what she wanted: a life. Freedom.
I hadn’t expected to desire the Maiden, not enough that even now, my blood quickened at the memory of the taste of her lips and the feel of her bare flesh beneath my hands.
And I sure as hell hadn’t expected how I changed around her, enough that I quickly found myself not thinking about the past or the future and forgetting why I was here. Feeling calm. At peace.
Simply, I hadn’t expected to want. Because I hadn’t. Not in the years and decades since I’d been free. I hadn’t truly wanted a damn thing.
But I wanted those things for Poppy, and I wanted her.
So, now what?
I dropped my hands to the space between my knees and lifted my gaze. The wind lashed at the windows, chilling the chamber. I’d been summoned to the Duchess the day before. Jansen had been there. It had been a quick meeting. No coy smiles. She’d told me the Crown had grown concerned about the Maiden’s safety due to that last abduction attempt, just as the Duke had said during our initial meeting, and since word had already been sent to the capital notifying them of what had occurred at the Rite, she was confident the Crown’s response would be a summons. So much so, she had ordered the Commander to put together a group that would travel with the Maiden to Carsodonia.
I was getting what I came for.
What I needed. I would be escorting her out of Masadonia with the Crown’s permission.
But it wasn’t what I wanted.
Scenario after scenario played out as I sat there, trying to figure out how I could at least give Poppy freedom when this was over. Different options. Choices. But they were all half-baked impossibilities.
A soft whimper drew me from my thoughts. I twisted at the waist as Poppy shuddered, her hands clenching at the blanket Tawny had so carefully tucked around her.
Her cheeks were damp.
Pressure settled in my chest as I smoothed the tears from her face. “It’s okay,” I told her. “You’re not alone.
I’m here. It’s okay.”
I chased away the dampness, the tips of my fingers grazing the rougher skin of the scar on her left cheek. “I’m sorry,” I said to her, like I’d said it damn near a hundred times now. “I’m sorry for everything—for Vikter. Despite our last conversation, he didn’t deserve that. He was…he was a good man, and I’m sorry this happened.”
I’d said that to her before, too. I kept whispering to her, and the grip on the blanket eased after a few moments.
Her breathing steadied, and some of the pressure in my chest lifted.
Minutes ticked by. Gods only knew how many before I realized I’d kept touching her, lightly tracing the curve of her jaw. I hadn’t even been aware I was doing it. Just like I hadn’t the last two nights when I’d fallen asleep comforting her.
And woke up still lying beside her.
I didn’t think she’d appreciate any of this. Not so much my actions but that I was here and witnessed what she was going through. I drew my thumb over her chin.
“Now what?” I whispered to her, my stomach clenching.
There was no answer, but I caught sight of something red jutting out from the pillow next to the one she slept on. Reaching over her, I lifted it. A faint grin tugged at my lips when I recognized the red, leather-bound journal. Miss Willa’s diary. Letting the pillow go, I glanced back at Poppy. Was she reading it at night?
I cut those thoughts off before I could wonder about how she felt reading those pages and if she acted upon any of it. Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
Once night had fallen, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Knowing there was more than one, I rose from the bed and grabbed the short swords, sheathing them as I took my spot at the window.
The door opened without a knock, revealing the Duchess dressed in white. The color of mourning. Her flawless skin bore no signs of grief, but I’d also never seen an Ascended cry. It may not be possible. Her dark eyes immediately fixed on where I stood.
I gave her a curt bow.
The Duchess entered the chamber, but her two guards remained at the door. “I was coming to check on Penellaphe. Has there been any change?”
“No, Your Grace. She continues to sleep.”
“I imagine very deeply.” She stopped at the foot of the bed, her hands clasped loosely together. “But it will do her some good, I suppose, making use of the sleeping draft.”
“Sleeping draft?” I repeated.
The Duchess nodded. “The Healer brought some with him when he examined her to make sure she hadn’t been injured,” she explained.
The Healer’s visit must’ve happened when Tawny was with her when she first woke, and I was in my quarters to bathe.
That explained how she could sleep this long and not be disturbed by anything happening around her.
“It is a shame, is it not?” the Duchess started. “For one person to suffer such loss.”
It was.
She turned to me, and I waited for her to say something about my presence. It wouldn’t change where I was.
“Where is your mantle?” she asked.
“Forgot it.”
“Hmm. Understandable. I’m sure your mind is…occupied with guarding her,” she said.
What the fuck?
That was all she had to question?
“Your loyalty to her is admirable.” She glanced back at Poppy. “Would you like anything sent here?
Dinner, perhaps?”
“I’m good,” I said. Tawny had been bringing food.
“Then I will leave you to your duty.” The Duchess made her way to the door, then stopped. She smiled then, and a chill hit my spine. “The Queen will be most pleased with your devotion, Hawke. I’m sure she’ll reward you greatly for your service to the Crown.”
HER VENGEANCE
I’d found the
sleeping draft shortly after the Duchess left. The vial was in the drawer of her nightstand. I removed it from the chambers. Poppy could get as angry as she wanted with me. I didn’t care. She needed to be eating and drinking, not drugging herself into oblivion.
The good news was that Poppy was no longer sleeping.
The bad news was me.
I was the bad news for her as I stalked through Wisher’s Grove, spotting Poppy’s cloaked figure ahead of me in the moonlight. I would’ve left her ass drugged if I’d known she would sneak out of her quarters the first chance she got. And while I was all about letting her explore to her heart’s content and more than curious to know exactly what she was up to, now wasn’t the time for that.