At Any Cost (8 page)

“I do wish you’d repaid the favor.”

“Would it have made any difference?” When she didn’t answer, he leaned back in his chair. “It’s you I want, Magdalena. Not your father or his wealth, not his connections. Not the potential for power in your children.”

“I can’t know that now, can I?”

He looked down at his hands as he considered the question. “I’ve made many mistakes, and accepted that things were as they had to be. I thought I’d done my part with my children by giving them power and position, and assumed they were better off without me. It’s the way of things in my family. But with you I can imagine more. Things could be different this time.” He cleared his throat and looked up at her. “But it’s you that I want. Not anything or anyone else. If you wish it, I can have my Potioners ensure that you will never have to bear the burden of having my child. It would just be us. Would that be proof enough?” He looked away. “It would probably be better for you.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But thank you. That does make me feel better.”

“Why did you come here?”

She pulled the crumpled gift box from her bag and tossed it onto his lap. “I got a message, and couldn’t tell what it meant.”

“You could have ignored it.”

“No. I couldn’t.” She looked into his eyes, searching again. “I don’t know why I came. I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about you, why I felt I might go insane if I didn’t see you once more and find out how much of what you told me was a lie. My father suspected most of it was. I thought perhaps there was more to it.” She stood and paced the room, taking faint notice of the books lining the walls. Her attention was more on the fact that she could feel him watching every step, taking her in. “Why did you send the gift?”

He studied her carefully, and Maggie thought warily. As though she might wound him. “I wanted to send you something, but thought you’d reject it,” he said. “I knew she wouldn’t, and that it would be put to good use. Can’t a wealthy man be generous to a stranger?”

She turned to him. “When one with your reputation does such a thing, it seems suspicious.”

He stood and stepped closer. Maggie held her ground, skin prickling as the air between them grew heavy. She fought to regain the cool distance she’d armored herself with, but the warmth with which he looked at her melted her defenses. “I needed to get you a message, to let you know I hadn’t forgotten you. To make a peace offering.”

“An apology?”

He lowered his chin. “If I chose to do so by giving your friend something she needed, is that so terrible?”

He stood so close that she could have kissed or slapped him. In that moment she wasn’t sure what she wanted more. His lips parted again, but he didn’t speak. His gaze held hers as surely as his son’s had, but with different effect.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” she whispered. She ran a hand over his chest, pressing hard enough to feel the shape of his body beneath his jacket.

He placed a hand over hers. “Before you say anything else, let me tell you this. I did not lie to you that night. Unbelievable as all of this is, you’ve captured me. You’ve brought me a measure of happiness I didn’t expect to experience. I wanted you to come here, but I understood when you didn’t join me at the bridge. A small part of me was relieved because I knew you wouldn’t fit here with these people. Bringing you here would have been like caging a wild bird. It would have kept you with me, and it would have brought me joy. It would have changed my life, and I might have found sanctuary from the world in your arms. But do you know what happens when you cage a wild bird?”

She took a shuddering breath. “It stops singing.”

He brushed her hair back from her face. “It’s better for you to be free, to find your great purpose in life. It’s not easy for me to say that. On top of whatever else your father may have told you about me, I’m a selfish man. I take what I want. The fact that I’m not going to hold you here should give you an idea of the incredible respect I have for you.” He brushed a finger over her lips, and she shivered. “I could keep you. If I chose to lock you in a golden cage to hear your song until it faded, no one could stop me.”

“But you would let me walk out of here?”

“With a bag full of gold if it pleased you, and my heart in your pocket.” He grimaced. “The gods are laughing at me. I can hear them.”

She knew she should walk away, taking nothing from him and offering nothing in return. Instead, she slipped a hand around the back of his neck, pulled his head down, and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? A long life, so much responsibility. Choices you regret. Being trapped here.”

He closed his eyes. “I’ve done so much wrong. My own son watches me, waiting for me to show weakness, working behind my back to secure his own future. His magic is as strong as it should be, given his parentage. Stronger, perhaps. But I now know that magic does not equal wisdom, and I fear for the day he takes the throne.” He pulled her close. “I fear more things than I care to admit, but none more than what we have here. When I look into your eyes, I see my last chance at finding peace, and I see my downfall. What’s a man to do with that? I’m damned either way. At least if you go, you’ll be free. I shouldn’t have sent that message. I should have let you forget. I—”

She pressed her lips to his, quickly, knowing she shouldn’t. “I’m glad you sent it,” she said. “And I’m not sorry I came.”

His fingers tangled in her hair as he pulled her back in, and she kissed him as though she might burn herself into his mind and wash away his mistakes and regrets. In that moment, at least, there was only them. She forgot her home, her past, and any desire other than him. But when she pulled away and the room came back into focus, she realized he was right. She wanted to give her heart and her body to him, but it would never make sense. The harsh and loveless world he lived in would never truly disappear, and she could never become a part of it.

Her heart tore in two, leaving a gaping wound she feared would never close, no matter how well her mind understood that she was doing the right thing.

Stepping away from him was like swimming against the tide, yet she managed it. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things worse by coming. I was so angry when my father told me about your past and his suspicions about your intentions, but I never lost that deeper feeling. I was angry at myself. I still loved you.”

He winced. “Don’t say that.”

“I will, even if you won’t. Would having love in your life be the worst thing?”

He cupped her face in his hand. “It might be, in the end. I wish I could find out.” He drew in a long breath. “I believe I do love you, if such a thing is possible. I suppose I’ll carry that shame with me for the rest of my life.”

Maggie’s breath caught in her throat. Such remorse in his voice, such regret. Yet the admission pierced her like a blade, drawing blood. She hoped it wasn’t a mortal wound.

He watched her reaction carefully, and Maggie fought to compose herself.
This changes nothing.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you out. Shall we see about that gold?”

She smiled sadly and shook her head. “I may have to camp out on the way home, but no. I don’t want anything from you.”

Except another kiss, perhaps,
she added to herself, but he was already headed for the door.

“Hurry,” he said, “before I change my mind and keep you.”

They left the way they’d come in, but this time Maggie slowed her steps and looked at the tapestries on the walls. They depicted terrible battles and other, more pleasant events. Amidst dragons and fairies, she caught glimpses of kings and queens and other important people. People who had changed history.

And what good would a caged bird do?
she wondered. A pretty thing to bring joy to a king who otherwise had become a stone-hearted statue, crumbling slowly as others gained power. She looked to him, standing by the door, waiting. Quiet calm filled her. His gaze had seemed so frighteningly cold the first time they’d met, while his eyes had burned as he’d admired her body at their last encounter. The way he looked at her now was neither hot not cold, but warm. Filled with longing and regret. Not the eyes of a selfish man looking on his treasure, but someone about to make a great sacrifice for a loved one’s freedom.

Loved.

“What’s this one?” She pointed to a tapestry depicting people dancing outside of a white building. She asked more to distract herself than out of real curiosity, but found as she looked closer that the image was quite compelling.

“A small place of worship dedicated to the Goddess. It’s just outside.”

“May I see it before I go?”

He nodded. “There’s a back way.”

They cut through the garden, but instead of turning toward the front of the palace, Ulric took her hand and led her through the rose garden and into a hedge maze dotted with stone fountains. He cut through the maze quickly and waved off a guard who stood next to a tiny gate.

They passed through. The temple stood empty before them, beautiful and silent.

“We don’t use it much,” Ulric said. “The priests employed here see more visitors from the provinces than they do nobles or my own family, but there still aren’t many who come by.”

Maggie stepped closer. The building, constructed of twisting branches of white wood knit together into a single, steep tower, seemed out of place in this city of stone and hard angles. She stepped through a doorless archway and drew a sharp breath. Inside, the white wood grew thick green leaves covered the ceiling and emitted a soft glow that lit the otherwise empty space.

“It’s incredible,” she whispered. The sound echoed, repeated back by the leaves overhead.

A white-robed figure appeared, though Maggie couldn’t tell from where. “The king himself seeks sanctuary,” commented a lilting voice. Thin hands reached up to adjust the hood, but kept it up so the shadows hid the face beneath.

“I’m afraid not,” he said quietly. “My visitor wished to see the temple.”

“The Goddess is pleased to see you both,” the figure said. “Take your time.”

And then she was gone.

Maggie let the peaceful silence of the place fill her. The Goddess of Tyrea wasn’t a deity she had ever worshipped, but she felt the peaceful solemnity of the place, and something more. Something larger. It set her in her place, made her feel her own insignificance when compared with the vastness of time and the depth of history. She turned to Ulric, who watched her with eyes that revealed deep sadness.

And what will our place be in our small slice of history?

“Do you believe in fate?” she asked.

“No.”

She nodded, satisfied at the expected answer. “Neither do I. I believe we choose our paths, make our decisions, and reap whatever results. If I believed in fate, I might think it led us to each other. And I might stay because of it.”

He smiled bitterly. “Then it’s a good thing for you that you don’t.”

She took a deep breath of the sweet, fresh air. Ice pooled in her stomach as she made her decision. “The priest wasn’t wrong. You are seeking sanctuary. Just not here.” Her mouth went dry. “It’s not fate. It is my choice, and I choose to be your sanctuary. If you marry me, that is, and if you promise in turn to shelter me from this world that holds you captive.”

“Magdalena.” His eyebrows gathered in a deep frown. “You can’t.”

She stood up straighter. “This is my purpose, as I choose it. To love a man I’m told is unlovable. To strengthen him, even if he believes love is weakness. To comfort a king so that he can rule his land. And so he can remain at peace with the land I leave behind.”

Ulric opened his mouth to speak—to object, Maggie thought—then closed it. He seemed to be struggling within himself. He bowed slightly. “That, I can promise you. I wish the people of Belleisle no harm, whatever they may believe and whatever others from my country may have to say about it. I will do everything in my power to make sure that peace remains, no matter how your father may rage about this. I will protect you from the life I lead here. The last thing I wish to see is you becoming like the people who surround me every day. You’ll have your own space, your own servants, and anything else your heart desires.”

“Except for my freedom.”

He nodded slightly. “You will have a beautiful cage and a grateful master. But you will not be free to return to your family, if that’s what you mean.”

She brushed away a tear that trickled down her cheek. The pain of leaving her family and life behind broke her, but so did the thought of turning away from Ulric, never feeling again as she felt with him.
Such a choice to have to make. But things may heal if I stay. There’s always hope.

“So be it,” she said. “I will be your sanctuary. I will love you. I don’t think I can do otherwise. This is the life I choose.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “May the spirits have mercy on me.”

Without a word he took her by the hand and led her back into the castle. No one spotted them this time as they climbed a back staircase, and only a guard with downcast eyes noted their passage as they entered the king’s chambers. Rich wood panelled the walls in an open sitting area, and a door beyond led to a dimly lit room.

“You would sacrifice so much for me?” he asked at last, when the doors were closed and locked.

“I would. For the love I feel for you, I would give up my own soul.” As she spoke the words, she knew them to be true. “If you aren’t free, I don’t want to be, either.”

He pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. “I can’t truly promise you everything.”

“Can you promise yourself?”

“All of me that’s still mine will be yours. I’m not a free man, Magdalena.”

“When you’re with me, you will be.”

He turned her chin up and pulled her into a kiss that set her skin tingling from her scalp to the soles of her feet. The queen’s pinched face flashed through her mind, and she pushed it away.
You may be queen in name,
she thought,
but I will be the ruler of his heart.

She took his head and dragged him toward the bedroom.