Black Rose (13 page)

A
small smile crept over Mara’s haunted face. “The Queen was highly intolerant to
her daughter’s dreams, so it became a private duty which Edward took upon
himself to check on her every night before she went to sleep. When he was sent
away by the Queen, he made me swear that I would continue to…what is the modern
term? Tuck her in at night. He told Liza that I would now keep away her dreams,
and I was the best he had ever trained.” Mara shook her head, “It didn’t matter
though. Liza cried herself to sleep every night for a month after he was sent
away. It was a sorrow that we shared, and was perhaps the key to the bond we
formed.”

“What
was she like?”

“Liza?”

“Yes.”

Mara’s
lips formed a thin line. “Liza was the sweetest child and most genuinely
beautiful woman that ever walked this earth. She had long black hair, moonlit
skin, and violet eyes with just the slightest hint of silver.”

“Sounds
like you are describing yourself.”

“Yes,
a fact I am reminded of, every time Edward looks at me.”

Nolan
tilted his head and raised his hand as though wanting to offer comfort, but was
uncertain if such an offering would be accepted. Mara stood perfectly still.
Nolan lowered his hand back to his side. “Liza had an innocence about her that
was incredibly rare among even the youngest of the courts. She saw the best in
everyone she met. To meet her was to consider yourself blessed, and it had
nothing to do with her royal rank. I suppose that we were all in love with her,
in one way or another.”

“When
Edward was sent east to carry out the Queen’s plans, there were no phones to
call, no letters to be carried. No one knew if he was even alive, let alone of
his whereabouts.”

“How
long was he gone?”

“9,
224 days.”

“So
that would be…” Nolan paused, attempting to do the math.

“Twenty-five
years.” Mara answered before closing her eyes. 

“Wait
for me,” he had asked. A request she had complied with for twenty-five years.
How many nights had she cried herself to sleep, longing to see the dark depths
of his eyes just one more time? How many mornings had she awoken calling his
name to find that it had only been a dream? Then the sheer horror of learning
of all he had been through during those years. The two decades he had spent in…

“Mara,”
Garreth’s words brought her from her memories. “I am sorry, Mara.”

She
turned to face him. “What do you want from me? Do you want me to say we broke
each other’s hearts? Don’t you see, Garreth? There is no forgiveness. For the
years he spent trapped in that hell? For standing aside while he was he was
tortured. For loving him when I should have been…” She turned her neck in a
full circle as she drew a deep breath. “I can’t relive this. Please, Garreth.”
He raised a hand as Nolan had done, but where she had rejected the touch of the
younger man, she allowed Garreth to gently pull her forward, surrendering
herself momentarily to his embrace.

“I
am sorry, Mara.” He had known this would be hard for her, but he had no idea
that the wounds would be this raw, this fresh. It had been centuries since he
had seen her so fragile. She pulled away and walked out of the room without
another word. When she finally reached her chambers, she slammed the heavy door
behind her and then sank down to the floor with her back firmly against it,
burying her face into her hands, sliding her fingers into her dark hair.

“Wait
for me,” he had asked. “I will come back.” Yet he had never had. Held in
captivity by another court, it had been Mara who had eventually come for
Edward, an event after which he had never been the same. Haunted by his endured
torments, he would wake in the night, physically shaking from his dreams.

“It
is okay, Edward,” she would whisper as she soothed him.

“Mara?”
He reached out a hand and touched the side of her face. “Mara, is it really you?”

“Yes,
my love.” She placed her hand on top of his and pressed it more firmly against
her cheek. “Please,” she pleaded, “talk to me.”

“You
don’t want to know.”

“Yes,
I do. I want to help you.”

“I…it
was…” He shuddered against her. “I can’t. Don’t ask me. Please don’t make me.”

She
moved more securely into his arms, eventually sliding down to settle against
his chest. Her heart ached at his pain as he struggled with daemons that were
not hers to face. The nightmares continued over the many months, though after
the first few nights, their meetings became intertwined with the duties
required by their rank within the Royal Guard. Theirs was a romance of public
discretion, lest the Queen decide that she was unhappy with the match.

Blinded
by her relief at Edward’s return, she barely noticed that she was not the only
one overjoyed. Edward’s frequent appearances with Liza seemed nothing out of
the ordinary. After all, the Princess had known him as a child, and seeing Liza
also meant seeing Mara. It took the better part of a year before Mara realized
that the Princess had a more serious crush on Edward than she realized.

Then
the day came that she was walking the grounds and heard Edward’s deep,
masculine laugh. It caught her off guard, as laughter was something not
frequently heard from the Queen’s Captain of the Guard. He was haunted by his
time away, still steadfastly refusing to tell Mara what, exactly, had happened
to him in those long, twenty-five years.

Yet
it was on a spring afternoon in the garden not unlike the day Edward had kissed
her that Mara finally realized she had lost him. They were walking around the
garden in a sea of red, violet and white roses which formed an intoxicating
aroma around the two lovers. “How is Liza today?” Edward inquired.

“Same
as yesterday. Though, I do think that the Queen is far more excited about the
upcoming ball than our young Princess. She does not seem that excited.”

Edward
laughed. “No, she is not fond of the attention, is she? Reminds me of another
Princess I once knew.”

Mara
shuddered. “Can you blame her? Hundreds coming to ogle her like some prize to
be won. I would not want her position for all the world.”

“She
seems to be dealing with it well enough,” Edward interjected. “She is certainly
not the child that I left behind.”

“Yes
and no. She is not technically a child, but there is a certain innocence about
her.”

Edward
nodded. “Yes, I’m not sure I have ever seen anyone so willing to see the good
in others.”

“Naïve.”

“Yes,
but a naivety that I would not have any other way.” A smile appeared upon his
normally stoic face and his eyes seemed to glaze over as he stared at a cluster
of red roses mingling with a wall of ivy. “She is so gentle and kind; youthful
and innocent. I could not image trying to change that about her. It would
be…tragic. She is everything you and I are not.” His smile widened. “It is one
of the reasons I love her.”

The
words were carried on a breeze, and it took several moments for them to reach
her. She turned to him in confusion. “Love her? What do you mean?” She expected
him to laugh it off, to say he meant it in a clearly platonic way. However, his
startled expression told a far different story. 

One
glance was all it took. “Oh.” Her eyes closed as she drew a deep breath then
opened them slowly. “You mean you’re
in
love…with Liza?”

           
Edward became so still that one would not have known he was real if he had not
been speaking only a moment before. “You’re in love with Liza.” This time, it
was not a question.  She stared at him silently for several moments. Then
a rough sound escaped her lips—between a chuckle and a choking gasp. “Of
course,” she said in disbelief. “The young Princess whose happiness I am bound
to protect.” She stared directly at the man before her. “The one woman, the
only woman, in the entire Kingdom, you cannot have. How could you not be in
love with her?”

           
“Mara.”

           
“No,” she interrupted, her laughter ceasing as anger took its place. “No, I
waited for you. For years, I waited.  For…for
decades
!” Mara’s heart
began to thump through her body. Her gaze trailed blindly along the garden
walls as her mind attempted to comprehend. She couldn’t focus. Then, finally
the words escaped her lips. “You don’t love me. By the Gods.” Her body began to
tremble as she forced her eyes to travel back towards Edward’s. She repeated
the statement. “You don’t love me.”

           
His lips parted as though to speak, but words faltered as he caught her violet
gaze. Her eyes burned, yet no tears rose to cool their surface. She sounded
childlike as she asked, “What have I done?”

           
“Done?”

           
“To make you not love me? What did I do?” Silence lay between them as she
searched his eyes for answers that did not exist. Her body began to shake more
violently than before. “I waited... You asked me to wait….I…I don’t…” The world
spun. Her heart pounded ferociously, physically jerking her body with every
beat.

           
“Mara.” Edward found his voice. “I do love you. It’s not what you—”

           
“I don’t believe you.” Her voice escaped in broken pieces. “You don’t…don’t…”
She swallowed and it hurt. “I did everything you ever asked.” Her voice began
to increase in volume. “I was a Princess. I gave up everything, everything to
be with you. You said you loved me! You asked—no—begged me to wait.” Her words
became laced with bitter laughter which she was neither able to control nor let
subside. “
Twenty-five fucking years
!”

           
Edward had never heard such rage, let alone from the beautiful girl standing
before him. He reached out slowly and placed his hand upon her left arm.

           
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, pushing him away with enough force that he had
to step back to prevent himself from tumbling to the ground. “Mara,” he tried
again. He could feel the pain radiating from her slender form.

           
“No!” she shrieked. “No, no, no!” Physically ill, Mara turned from him, leaning
her face into her hands before letting out a wordless scream. The sound carried
through the garden for any to hear. She did not care.

           
“Please, Mara. I did not want to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. I
did not mean…”

           
Mara rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around her body. She
couldn’t move, couldn’t cry, couldn’t breathe. All she knew was pain.

           
Garreth, who had heard her scream from the opposite side of the gardens, raced
around the corner with his hand upon the hilt of his silver bade. He froze at
the sight of Mara’s shivering form. “What in the name of the Gods is going on?”

           
Mara heard him as though from a distance. Edward again moved his hand towards
her. “You will hurt yourself.” At his touch, Mara broke from her frozen
position, turning from him so violently that she lost her footing and would
have fallen to the ground had Edward not caught her.

           
“Damn you!” She attempted to slap him, but he caught her wrist in his strong
grasp. “You swore!” she continued to yell, tears at long last blurring her
vision. “You swore to love me! You promised.” Her words became sobs. “I waited
for you. You promised, you promised, you…”

           
“Mara, please,” Edward pleaded. “You must…I never…”

           
“Let me go!” she yelled as she sobbed. “You don’t have the right to touch me.”
Edward released his grip on her pale wrist which would likely be bruised the
next morning. She sank to the ground feeling everything, yet nothing. She
fought to draw breath, but could not seem to force the air down her constricted
throat.

           
“What the hell is going on?” Garreth directed the question to Edward. “What…”
Mara did not hear his next words. The world spun faster through her blurred
vision. She had no idea how long she lay there before a pair of arms slid
around her. Mara fought the form which attempted to comfort her, oblivious to
the fact that it was now her cousin and not Edward who attempted to gather her
in his arms.

           
“Mara, Mara,” he repeated again and again attempting to cut through her
hysteria. She had no idea how long she sat there, resisting Garreth’s comfort
before finally turning to bury her sobs against his chest. 

Garreth
sat holding the shattered remains of the girl who had grown into one of the
strongest women he had ever known, reduced again to that fragile child they had
pried from her dead mother’s hand. 

From
the far side of the garden, Edward looked on helplessly.

Regald
awoke to a soft knock on the door. He jerked from the bed, scrambling to grasp
his sword where it lay upon the floor. A second knock made him grateful that he
had removed only his shirt the night before as he rushed forward and placed his
hand upon the large silver handle. He stood slightly to the side as he opened
the door, peering out to find Sandra. “My Lady,” he stated, opening the door
wider.