time in Lydia’s room, but she found
she did not wish to tell her husband
any lies. Instinctively, she knew that if
she lied, he would find out, and her
situation would be worse, although
she could not imagine how. She was
in a situation that made it impossible
for her to emerge unscathed and
without blows to her otherwise
pristine reputation.
His eyelids lowered and he moved
away from her, over to the fireplace,
before returning. She saw his jaw flex.
“What does that mean, Jaisyn? How
could you not know what happened
between yourself and Bael?”
“I swear to you, Vulcan—I don’t
remember,” she managed to get out,
feeling her throat constrict as she saw
the flicker of pain in his eyes before
anger returned.
“Tell me, wife! What is it that you
remember!”
It was a roar, and she flinched
backwards as he screamed his rage,
but he made no move to follow. His
arms crossed over his chest and he
waited.
Jaisyn blinked rapidly, feeling tears
gather in her eyes and trying to keep
him from seeing them. She tried to
turn her face away from him but his
fingers suddenly captured her chin,
and he was peering closely into her
face. He lifted a finger and swiped at
one of the tears that ran down her
cheek.
“You are crying.” His voice was
rough. Before she could refute that
claim, he demanded, “What have you
done that warrants tears, wife?”
“I- I,” Jaisyn began, staring into
eyes that asked her to prove whatever
he thought of her behavior wrong. She
shook her head, but his grip on her
chin remained firm. “I awoke…in
Bael’s bed.”
His hand fell from her face but his
eyes remained on her. He said nothing
for long minutes and Jaisyn held her
breath, watching him as he watched
her.
“You were in Bael’s bed?” he
repeated slowly, rolling his head on
his neck until she heard the cracking
of bones. He continued to work his
neck, his eyes now closed as he took
steadying breaths.
“I don’t know how it happened,
Vulcan. I swear I have no memory of
meeting him.”
His eyes finally opened. They were
cold once more but there was a
strange calm that had settled about
him.
“Were you clothed?” he continued
in that deep, unwavering voice. Jaisyn
swallowed and slowly began to shake
her head in the negative.
He nodded as if in understanding
and he paced away from her, over to
the fireplace before returning to her.
“You expect me to believe…” he
began softly, but his voice rose
gradually until he was roaring once
more. “…that you do not remember
going into another man’s room and
waking up naked in his bed? If you
are going to lie, wife, it is always best
to tell the lie that least resembles the
truth. You really think me stupid and
addled, do you not?”
A shudder racked her body and she
pressed her hands to her lips to hold in
the cry that would have come forth.
She looked away from him then,
knowing he was justified in his
reaction. By being in another man’s
chambers, she’d cast suspicion upon
herself. Waking up naked in another
man’s bed, and in another man’s
arms, declared her harlot.
His fingers were under her chin as
he forced her head up. “Look at me,
Jaisyn! I want to be sure I understand
you.” He drew in a deep breath that
did little to appease the look of rage
on his face. “You slept in Bael’s bed?
You awoke naked in his bed? He fled
this morning without taking leave of
his overlord! Did you tell your lover to
be gone before I found out? Were you
afraid I would do unto him as I almost
did to your
friend
, Malcolm?” His
fingers dug into her soft skin but she
bore it without crying out. “Was he
just your friend as you swore? Are
you sure you’ve never awoken in his
bed as well?”
The hands holding her fell away and
he was pacing once more, this time
staying clear of her. He suddenly
stopped and stared at her. The
expression on his face was a cross
between horror, pain and anger. His
gaze dropped to her belly, and
remained there. Instinctively, Jaisyn
splayed both hands across her middle,
wondering what was going through his
mind.
“Can you be certain the baby is
mine?” he hissed and when she
looked crestfallen, he said tersely, “Is
there a possibility that the child is not
mine, Jaisyn?”
“This is your child, Vulcan. I have
never lain with Malcolm.” Her voice
was hoarse but firm.
I’ve never lain
with anyone but you.
She wished she
could say that but she couldn’t,
knowing that there was a possibility
that she would be lying. By Lyria,
why couldn’t she remember going to
Bael? Why would she even go to
Bael?
Raven black hair swayed angrily as
Vulcan shook his head. “Your word
cannot be trusted, wife. Only time will
tell.” He walked to stand before her
and his hands grabbed her arms,
tugging her closer to him. “Malcolm,
Bael…how many more, Jaisyn? Two,
four, eight, a dozen more?” He shook
her slightly and she grabbed at his
tunic to maintain her balance. “Get
from my sight, wench!”
With that, he released her suddenly
and her bottom caught the table,
painfully steadying her and halting
what might have been a disastrous fall
to the ground. Her fingers latched on
the desk and she stared at his back as
he walked to the fireplace.
Needing him to understand, she
moved closer and pleaded with him.
“You have to believe me, Vulcan. I
don’t remember going to Bael. I—”
He spun so quickly that Jaisyn
immediately took a few steps back.
“Leave me, Jaisyn. I have been
tempted to take you over my knee
before but I have never been tempted
to do the harm that currently invades
my mind.”
“Vulcan, please listen to me. I love
—”
A derisive laugh floated to her.
“Love? It is clear we both do not
know the meaning of that word. Go!”
***
He watched as she hurried from the
room, wiping at teary eyes, before
turning back to the flames before him.
How could she?
After telling him
she loved him, after making him
believe her, after making him love her,
she’d betrayed him!
Never give your heart to a woman,
Vulcan. For once you do, she’ll have
the power to break it, and leave you
completely ruined.
His father had been deep in his cups
when Frederick had given Vulcan that
bit of advice. Too young and too
hardened to understand anything
about giving his heart, Vulcan had
promptly removed the tankard from
his father’s reach, and watched in
disgust as the older man slumped
forward in his chair.
But now, now he understood.
There was a dull pain in his chest
that had nothing to do with his health.
His heart ached. For the first time in
his life, his heart was broken. By
Rika, if she were a man, he would kill
her! If she were anyone else but
Jaisyn, he would have— He paused,
remembering
her
extended
midsection. How could she go to Bael
with another man's child in her belly?
Anguish hit him at the thought. Who
was this woman that looked like his
wife, for he could not remember
meeting her before?
He did not go to supper. He chose
to remain in his study, staring into the
flames that were tended occasionally
by a servant, and thinking over his
situation. Jaisyn had assured him the
baby was his but she had also assured
him that she and Malcolm were
nothing but friends. And like the
lovesick idiot that he was, he’d
believed her.
She
was
probably
carrying
Malcolm’s baby, Malcolm’s son, and
would try to foist him off as Morden’s
heir. He had been the one to take her
innocence but how many had she lain
with after? He thought back to the
past month, when things had begun to
look
promising
for
them.
He
remembered lying next to her nightly,
his hand stroking her belly, thinking
that part of himself was growing
steadily inside of her. Pain latched
onto his heart once more.
Was his wife truly that vindictive?
Had she thought up her plan with
Malcolm before or after she agreed to
marry him? To have a Lytherian
bastard sit on the throne of Morden?
Had she thought to repay him for
taking her kingdom by making sure
that his heir would be a full-blooded
Lytherian? Did she hate him that
much?
A loud battle cry escaped his lips
and his hand swiped out and knocked
the tankard of ale that sat on his desk
to
the
floor.
The
door
was
immediately
pushed
open
by
concerned soldiers, but upon seeing
the snarl on face of their king, it was
wisely closed once more.
***
Varian moved through the dark
hallway toward the room that held his
future wife. It was late and he knew it
was possible that she was asleep. Still,
he pressed on, nodding to the guards
he passed, and wondering if any were
stationed outside of her chambers.
Not that he cared. He was entering
her room regardless. No guards stood
before her door; they stood at
attention at various places along the
hallway.
Closing Isolde’s door behind him,
Varian turned and looked to the bed,
expecting to find her lying there. She
wasn’t. His eyes immediately scanned
the room. He smiled when he noticed
that she sat before the fireplace, a
book in her hand, and her eyes on
him. She was clad in a peach-colored
night dress and was smiling as well.
“I was beginning to think you
wouldn’t come,” she told him,
standing and placing the book on top
of the hearth.
He approached her, and when he
was close enough to see every inch of
her face, to touch the silk of her hair,
he stopped.
“I’m sorry. I was with Vulcan,” he
replied honestly, struggling to keep his
anger in check as he thought of what
his brother had told him. Varian had
pegged Jaisyn for being strong-willed,
courageous and at times hard-headed,
but he’d never thought her a whore.
When Vulcan had related the story,
and had told him what he intended,
Varian had felt a pang of sorrow for
the
queen
before
it
vanished.
Watching
his
proud,
unflinching
brother, look completely defeated as
he spoke of his lying wife had made
Varian more than willing to take a
knife to Jaisyn’s throat. He’d thought
that with time, they would grow to
understand each other. He’d been
wrong.
Isolde’s hand was suddenly on his
face, cupping his cheek, pulling him
from his thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” Concern was
evident in her voice.
He sighed and his hand came up to
anchor hers to his face. Jaisyn was
Isolde’s sister. As such, Isolde would
be inclined to side with her. Shaking
his head, he released all thoughts of
Jaisyn and Bael for now, and focused
on Isolde.
“Nothing,” he replied, moving closer
to her. Her eyes widened slightly, but