Shana Abe (35 page)

He seemed confident and at ease, in charge of his estate. He held on to her hand and periodically pressed a kiss upon it around the courses of the meal, causing her to blush for no good reason, causing him to kiss her more.

Marla was bold enough to ask about this change, and did so over a warm loaf of bread she was passing around.

Roland considered the question thoughtfully, then replied in a low voice, “I have been saved by my lady. What else?”

Marla gave a slow smile, and Elysia nodded.

“I told you she would,” said the child to Harrick.

“You did,” he agreed.

Kyla merely shook her head. “You have saved yourself,” she said to her husband, who looked down at the table, then kissed her hand again.

“
W
here are we going?”

Kyla stepped carefully around a delicate cluster of flowers growing near the center of the trail, aided by Roland’s hand on her arm.

“It’s a surprise.” He gave her that special smile of his, the mischievous one, and it tickled her until she had to smile back, curious but trusting him.

He had disappeared after breakfast but shown up again just a few hours later, telling her he had in mind a journey for them both this afternoon.

The sun beamed down on them now, casting short shadows over the grass and flowers around them, showing off the subtle hues of all the colors of nature.

It was a beautiful day, a glorious day, Kyla thought as Roland walked beside her with his roguish smile. Yet it was odd how deserted the land seemed. Usually there were people everywhere, bustling around, working.

This afternoon the paths were empty save for her and Roland. Even Thomas and Berthold had not reappeared.

“Almost there,” Roland said, and a bird warbled a short song beside them in a pine, a complement to his words.

She knew this path, she had walked it before on the day of the thunderstorm. Today there were no clouds in the sky, only a long blue horizon, and then behind the grove of giant trees was the meadow of the rabbits she remembered, full of clover and people.

People everywhere, tables set up in the grass, garlands of flowers draped from them, food, drink, even musicians. Kyla stopped where she was on the edge of the meadow, amazed, but Roland’s smile had grown broader, then broader still as the people of Lorlreau spotted them together and let out a cheer.

She turned her head and looked up at Roland and he down at her. His smile vanished, became a reflection of serious turquoise.

“We never had a proper wedding,” he said quietly.

Kyla couldn’t speak, though her mouth opened, searching for the words. There was something wrong with her, there was a knot of something in her throat, she couldn’t seem to swallow around it.

Roland took both her hands in his, brought them up to his lips and kissed them, never looking away from her. The sunlight glowed around him, golden contours, celestial warmth.

“Will you marry me?” he asked now. “Again?”

He had planned it all for her, she realized, he had gathered together his people and his dreams, and it was just for her, to please her.

A real wedding. Not rushed vows in a darkened chamber but promises offered openly, here in front of his family, his friends, her new home. Just for her.

“Yes,” she said, because it was the only possible answer that came to her.

Marla approached, laughing, with Elysia beside her, both of them wearing circlets of flowers in their hair. The child carried another one for Kyla, fresh blooms of white and violet, delicate dark green leaves, and Kyla knelt so Elysia could place it on her head, where it tilted drunkenly to the side until Roland straightened it for her.

Marla and Elysia went skipping back to the crowd and Roland began to lead her forward into the thick of the others, down the center aisle they had created amid the heavy grass and clover, to Harrick, standing serenely in the center of the meadow.

It was unexpected magic, it was bewitching joy, to repeat the vows that Harrick spoke for them, uniting them again before God, before them all, with the wind singing through the boughs of the trees and the ocean echoing along, distant and deep.

Roland kissing her, holding her face with both hands, his lips warm and light against hers, an exchange of breath between them, and then they were showered with flower petals of all colors, bits of rainbow gliding down from the sky around them as everyone cheered again.

Magic, this feeling of wonder she had now, accepting the congratulations that came thick and fast from the people. Someone handed her a silver goblet of wine, matching the one Roland held. They locked arms and drank to each other, and Kyla had to fight not to smile as she drank, the sweet headiness of the wine filling her up, the sun bright in her eyes.

The crown of flowers fell off her as she tilted her head back, and Roland swooped it up and put it on her again, followed by a kiss. The crowd laughed and applauded.

The food was delicious, the wine and ale filled every cup as they were toasted again and again.

Kyla sat beside Roland on the special bench placed in the middle of the tables for the two of them, and her face hurt from all the smiling, and her laughter was giddy and still a little disbelieving. Roland held tight to her hand through it all.

Tangled up in the gold of his hair were the flower petals,
velvet pastels against his shining brilliance, and it gave him a fanciful air, a demigod amid the innocence of summer.

“I love you,” said the god to her, a frame of trees and sky around him.

“I love you, too,” Kyla replied, and then gave a radiant smile, because she couldn’t help it, her happiness was so overwhelming.

After a long while they all drifted back into the keep but the mood was unchanged, and many stayed in the great hall with the musicians as the benches and tables were put back, the leftover food and drink brought in.

Roland kept Kyla beside him, his arm around her shoulders as he stood talking to those who still came up and wished them well. He nodded his head and a few flower petals came free, dancing down to the ground at his feet. Kyla gave a little laugh, then leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

The men he had been talking to drifted tactfully away. Roland glanced down at her, a warm, sleepy look.

“My lady, would you care to join me upstairs?”

She understood the message in his tone, the invitation, the way his hand began to stroke her arm, and felt her heartbeat quicken.

But before she could respond another man approached; Duncan, looking worried.

“My lord. A word, if you please.”

Instantly Roland latched on to the undertone of urgency in Duncan’s voice. Kyla caught his transformation, from lover to warrior in a fraction of a second. He let go of her shoulder with a final squeeze, then walked over to his captain.

The two men stood off to the side, conversing with their heads together, arms crossed. As she watched them Kyla felt a sudden chill flow from her spine to her fingers, an uneasy feeling that was reflected in the grim lines of Roland’s mouth, the hard glint in his eyes.

Conversation in the great hall hovered and died, leaving only the occasional clink of metal on wood, shifting murmurs of guesses as to what the two men could be discussing.

Duncan had finished speaking. Roland looked over at
Kyla, his glance almost involuntary, a reflex. He turned back to Duncan.

“Gather your men. We’re off.”

Duncan bowed and left. Roland returned to her, his eyes distant now. He took her over to a nearby table, the one where Marla sat with Harrick and Elysia. Everyone stared at him, waiting.

Roland sat on the bench but perched on the edge, as if ready to spring up and leave in a second. Kyla fought the urge to pull him back farther, to keep him there.

“Kyla.” His voice was serious, distracted. “Can you recall hearing anything about a note in regard to the death of your mother?”

“A note?” She had an unsettled feeling in her stomach. “No … wait. Only the one you referred to, my lord. From the message saying you had a note to clear my father’s name. Is that the one you mean?”

Of course it wasn’t, she knew it wasn’t, and when he shook his head the uneasiness in her increased, became a cold tingling in her legs, a dryness in her mouth.

“No,” he said. “Not that one. Another. You don’t recall ever hearing of such a thing?”

Numbly she shook her head.

Marla asked, “What is it?”

Roland stood. “I don’t know. I’m going to go find out. I have a message from the mainland, an urgent one from one of my men. He has said he must speak only to me, but he’s not yet to the shore, he sent a man ahead.” He looked around the room. Several of the soldiers had left already, leaving cups and plates unfinished on the tables.

Kyla grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t go,” she said, and then hated herself for saying it. She made her fingers release him.

He sank back down beside her. “I’m sorry, my love. This is not the way I imagined us spending the rest of the day, believe me. But you know I have to go. I won’t be long. I’ll send someone to summon your guard. You will be safe.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, hard and fast.

“I won’t be long,” he said again, and then left.

She watched his back, watched the way all eyes followed him as he strode from the hall.

“Don’t worry,” said Marla, but there was something like a frown in her voice.

“It will all be over with soon,” Elysia said, and took a bite of bread.

K
yla had no appetite for food or drink after Roland was gone, only a gnawing anxiety that she could not explain away. Marla had patted her sympathetically on the shoulder and invited her to go herb gathering with her, but Kyla had declined, knowing what poor company she would be.

“I think I’ll take a rest,” she said, trying to sound unconcerned.

“An excellent notion,” Harrick approved. “Roland will be back by the time you awaken.”

Elysia said nothing, only hugged her tightly, using one hand to trail her fingers along the golden belt around Kyla’s waist as she pulled away, tapping the handle of the dagger there with her fingers as the last thing before releasing her.

Kyla’s hand came to rest on the hilt. She studied the child thoughtfully as she was led away with the other children.

“Shall I escort you to your rooms, my lady?” asked Harrick.

“No, thank you.”

“Alas, I’m afraid I must.” Harrick took her arm. “Your husband would never forgive me for not doing so. He is such the gentleman about these things, you see.”

“Oh, really?” She had caught the amusement in the monk’s voice and took his arm graciously, willing away the strangeness she felt.

“Indeed. Perhaps you’ve noticed that Roland puts all of our manners to shame.”

She gave a little laugh.

“When he wishes,” Harrick qualified.

Her chambers were empty and quiet, the covers of the bed already straightened, everything tidy and neat and undisturbed, as if the wonder of last night and the magic of this afternoon had never happened.

But it had. It had, and Kyla concentrated on that as she lay down alone in their room. She had placed the crown of flowers on the trunk by the window, and now it let off a sweet fragrance that carried across the room to her. Kyla rolled over and hugged Roland’s pillow to her, preferring to inhale the lingering scent of him on it. She rested her face against the softness. She was not tired. She didn’t really want to rest.

In fact, just staying here, listening to the silence gather around her, was not helping at all. What was the matter with her? She sat up abruptly, shook her head. She was behaving unreasonably. There was no cause for this knot tying her up inside, no need for the quivering alarm racking her, which made her stand and begin to pace the floor.

This was ridiculous. She was her own worst enemy, feeding this insecurity from within. What she needed was to get out, and regretted that she had dismissed Marla’s invitation so quickly. Perhaps she had not gone far yet. Someone was sure to know where she usually went for herbs. Kyla would join her, after all.

When she opened the door she was somewhat surprised to see neither of her guards standing there. No doubt Roland’s message had not gotten to them yet. Or mayhap they had gone with him to the shore, and another guard would be coming. No matter. She would instruct someone to tell her guard, whoever it was, where she went.