Broken Dove by Kristen Ashley
“Not me.” She smiled. “That means I don’t have to go to the school room. I can lie in bed and Bella will bring me flavored ices for my throat if it hurts and Papa will come up and read me stories.”
Only Élan would find the silver lining of having a cold.
“I bet you’d prefer being outside making snow castles,” I told her and she screwed up her face.
It cleared and she said, “Bella gives me flavored ices even when my throat doesn’t hurt and Papa reads me stories too. So having that and being able to make snow castles is better.”
I was glad she had come to that conclusion even if I didn’t like suddenly having the vision of Apollo reading stories to his daughter in my head. It reminded me of how wonderful he was which could make me forget when he was not.
That had happened in the early days with Pol too. He’d do something awful then revert to the Pol I fell in love with and I’d forget. In the end, before I gave up the effort, I made myself forget.
Then, eventually there was enough bad that no amount of good could erase it.
If you put up with it, they dished it out.
Apollo was not Pol. I knew this completely.
The fact still remained that if you put up with it, they were going to dish it out.
And it got worse.
I’d put up with it from Apollo.
He’d again dished it out.
And it got worse.
I stopped thinking these dire thoughts when I felt Élan grab my hand and tug.
“You sit here, next to Ariel,” she instructed, sitting me next to a doll with a crown and a very pretty knit dress the likes of which I had several of in my wardrobe.
But as she moved me, I caught something out of the corner of my eye and spied Christophe peeking just his head around the door.
My body gave a start as my eyes caught his. He was watching us and I couldn’t know how long he’d been there. I also couldn’t ask for before I could say a word or even smile, he disappeared.
I drew in a breath as I let Élan seat me next to Ariel (not an easy task seeing as the chairs were not even half as tall as normal chairs) and my eyes drifted back to the door as she chattered and fake poured tea from an exquisite china teapot (that also wasn’t half the size of a normal teapot).
Chris did not show.
I took this as a sign that whatever Apollo was doing with Chris wasn’t working.
Once I processed that and let the heavy weight of it settle around my heart, I set it aside and turned my full attention to Élan.
She wanted me here; she had me here. And not with me moping or stuck in my head, worried about my life, Apollo or Christophe.
I’d sit through hundreds of tea parties.
I’d do it smiling.
And for Élan, those smiles would be genuine.
Every time.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Remember This Kiss
Thirty minutes later, Bella bustled into the room, shooting a smile my way but ending our tea party with, “Your tutor says you have writing to practice, little miss. Time to put away the teapot. You can finish whatever you were discussing at dinner tonight.”
Fat chance that would happen.
For two nights I’d dined with Meeta, Loretta and Cristiana in the kitchen at the dower house.
They were good company (the jury was out on whether or not I was). But this meant for the first time in weeks I’d dined without Apollo and the kids.
I missed that too.
And he didn’t blink in taking that from me either.
Completely at his mercy.
Ignoring the pout Élan aimed her way, Bella went on. “And, Miss Maddie, Lord Apollo has sent word that he’d like you to attend him in his study when your party with Élan was done.”
Or maybe it wasn’t a fat chance dinner would happen.
Then again, it was at Apollo’s whim whether it would or wouldn’t.
Not to mention, I really had no choice of whether I would attend him in his study or not.
As all this settled in my head, I felt something strange bubble up inside me. It wasn’t a bad strange. It wasn’t a good strange. It was something I never felt before.
It was a nothing strange.
I didn’t think on it as Élan gave me a hug and when she let me go, I bent down to kiss her cheek.
I pulled away and whispered, “Ask me again. That was fun.”
She gave me one of her sweet smiles, a smile, for some reason, that I committed to memory like I wanted to file it away so I could call it up whenever I wanted, right before she chirped, “I will. We’ll do it tomorrow! And we’ll ask Frey to come!”
I tried to force my mind to wrap around a vision of Frey Drakkar folding his long body into one of Élan’s little chairs and one of his big hands holding a daintier than dainty teacup. My mind refused to do it, but my lips smiled at the thought.
“Even if it’s just you and me, I’ll be here,” I told her.
“Huzzah!” she cried.
She’d be happy with just me. Hell, she’d be happy with just her dolls. She was just a happy kid.
Though, I figured she’d be happier if Frey showed.
I kept smiling at her as I straightened. Then I aimed my smile at Bella and moved to my cloak.
“I’ll see you both later,” I called as I made my way to the door.
“See you at dinner!” Élan called back.
I aimed another smile at her wondering if she would.
I then waved and walked out the door, busying myself with arranging the cloak over my arm, folding the gloves more firmly in my hand, trying to think what I was feeling.
And still, all I could come up with was that I was feeling nothing.
It was the nothing part that worried me and I was so lost in thought as I made my way down the corridor, I barely processed the women’s voices I heard coming from not close, but not too far away.
“I’m shocked,” one said. “It’s unlike Ulfr. His father, absolutely. Him? No. But what he’s doing is much the same thing.”
“It is and not much the same. Exactly the same,” another voice replied. “And you know, I overheard Jeremiah. Apparently, Ulfr has a house in Estranvegue all set up for this Madeleine for when it’s safe to send her away.”
At hearing my name, I stopped dead.
Or, perhaps, it was hearing the part about Apollo sending me away.
“In Estranvegue?” the first voice asked.
“Yes,” the second voice confirmed.
“Goodness, that’s all the way across Lunwyn,” the first voice noted.
“Indeed,” the second voice stated. “He’s also set up an account for her. Obviously, he still intends to take on the responsibility of caring for her, but he won’t be doing it here.”
“But,” the first voice started, “I’ve heard they’re to wed.”
“I’ve heard that too. And maybe he intended to do that, if the children had accepted her. Now, that’s obviously not going to happen. I know little Élan likes her but she likes everybody. Young Christophe doesn’t like her. It’s not in his nature to cause alarm by doing something like running away, even when things aren’t topsy-turvy as they are now. Her being here, he ran away. And who can blame him? I’ve seen her and she’s the image of his mother. It’s uncanny. It’s also downright cruel to force your lover on your son if she looks exactly like your dead wife. Ulfr may be behaving like his father, as shocking as that is, but I figure in the end, he won’t do anything to harm his son.”
My breath suddenly coming in pants, I was teetering on my feet. I should have shifted to the side to put a hand on the wall to hold myself up but I couldn’t find it in me to will my body to do so.
I could do nothing but listen.
“Cristiana tells me she’s lovely,” the first voice said
“I’ve heard that as well. But she can be very lovely and that won’t make her look any less like Christophe’s departed mum. It’s no surprise Ulfr took up with
It was at that, I swallowed and finally shuffled to the side. Leaning heavily into my hand on the wall, my head dropped because the effort of holding it up was too much as their words burned into my brain. My skin.
My soul.
“At least she’s on pennyrium,” the first voice noted. “Sally from the village said Ulfr gets Loretta to acquire it from her. Though, it’s still shocking, what with what his father did to his mother. From how he is, it’s impossible to believe he’s repeating history like this. But it seems he is, since his father also installed his mistress at the dower house just like Ulfr has done with this Madeleine.
“But the old Ulfr did it to get her with child,” the second voice remarked and I blinked at my feet in shock.
There was a clucking noise before the first voice said, “I know. Desperate for an heir, he put his wife through that. Can you imagine, living in this house knowing your husband journeys ten minutes away every single night to engage in such activities?”
“Can you imagine living in the dower house knowing your lover leaves you for his barren wife and you’ll never have him that way?” the second voice returned.
The first one’s voice stated clearly she couldn’t imagine it when she said, “I felt for her. For both of them. Especially when old Ulfr got his heir. All of that still going on, having the best of both worlds, but her sitting in the dower house having to wait for visits from her own son that the lady of the house was raising, and poorly, seeing as she didn’t think it all that grand having to raise her husband’s child with another woman. A woman that was just along the way. I was here when it happened and it was actually a relief when he finally sent her away.”
What on earth were they talking about?
“With all that happening to his mum, Ulfr should know better,” the second one stated firmly, cutting into my thoughts. “Everyone in the village is talking about this Madeleine. About how young Christophe ran away because he can’t bear to be around her. How Ulfr is repeating history. You know, no one believes he’s going to marry her. What I don’t understand is why he dragged his children into this at all.”
The first woman’s voice was fading when she replied, “It’s unlike him. Truly. And disappointing. But he’s an Ulfr. He’s Head of a House. They do what they will. They always have.”
They were clearly departing because I barely heard the second one concur, “That they do.”
I knew they were gone when I heard nothing more.
But I didn’t move.
I couldn’t know for certain because Apollo sure as hell didn’t tell me but it seemed like his mother had lived in my house, and she didn’t do it after moving there when her husband died. She was not his father’s wife, she didn’t raise her son except for whatever visits Apollo’s father let her have, and then she was sent away.
This was big shit.
Shit Apollo should have shared with me, perhaps, I didn’t know, one of the freaking dozens of times we lay in bed whispering to each other.
And he had some house set up for me somewhere.
Somewhere far away.
With an account for me.
As devastating as this news should have been, it wasn’t.
Because it wasn’t a surprise.
Christophe had run away because of me and Apollo was clearly concerned with that. He’d also made it clear he was fed up with dealing with me. But he wouldn’t turn me out or allow me to go it alone.
Apparently, in the last two days he’d made arrangements to keep me.
He just wasn’t going to keep me.
At that thought, I knew why I was feeling nothing.
I was feeling nothing because that was the smartest way to feel for if I felt what I should be feeling, it wouldn’t gut me. It wouldn’t destroy me.
It would annihilate me.
On that thought, I remembered Apollo was waiting for me. That bitter chill crept over my skin as I pushed away from the wall, squared my shoulders and raised my head.
And again stopped dead.
This was because I saw Chris in the door to a room just two feet ahead of me, his head turned to look down the hall toward where the voices had disappeared.
That was his room.
The door had been open.
He’d heard.
I knew it because I only had his profile but his face was pale and he looked stricken.
I moved and watched his body jump before his head whipped my way.
“Please don’t run,” I whispered.
Fortunately, he didn’t move.
“Thank you,” I said when I’d stopped close.
Then I didn’t waste any time saying what I had to say. I did this because I wanted him to listen to me and I didn’t want him to dash away in the middle of what I had to say.
I also did it because I didn’t want to torture him with my presence for too long.
“I won’t take a lot of your time, Christophe. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” I pulled in a deep breath, pulling it together at the same time, and went on. “I never meant to hurt you. Before I met you, I was very worried I would. I’m not surprised that I did. But I am sorry.” I dipped my voice lower and held his eyes when I finished, “Very sorry, honey.”
He stared up at me and said nothing, his face expressionless.
Looking at his face, I again thought that he was so like his father in so many ways.
But it was time for this to be done. He didn’t need any further pain.
Neither did I.
“Even if I did hurt you,” I began honestly, “for me, it was still an honor to have the opportunity to get to know you. You’re a good brother. You’re a great kid. And your father is very proud of you. You’ll make an excellent soldier one day, Chris. In fact, you’ll make an excellent anything you want to be.”
He continued to stare up at me without a word.
So I decided to finish up.
“Thank you for putting up with me for a spell. I wish that time came without me hurting you. But I’m still grateful that I’ve had it.”
He swallowed.
That needed to be that, so I gave him a smile that was not genuine in the slightest, wishing I could touch him. I wouldn’t be greedy, go for a hug, a kiss on the cheek. I just wanted to stroke his hair or run my finger along his cheek.
But I couldn’t.
Because he wouldn’t want that.
Instead, I turned away and moved quickly down the hall.
I didn’t look back.
Because speaking with Chris took a lot out of me. Too much. I was beginning to feel more than nothing. A lot more than nothing. And I needed that nothing in order to get through speaking with Apollo.
Then I needed to find Valentine.
And once I’d spoken to her, when she’d done what I’d asked, only then would I let myself feel something.
Now, I needed that nothing.
So I held onto it as I made it down the stairs and moved directly to Apollo’s study.
I didn’t hesitate to knock.
I also didn’t hesitate to put my hand to the knob, turn it and move into the room when I heard him call, “Come.”
The minute I entered I noted that he was alone. He was at his desk, his head bent to some paper he was scribbling on.
And in that second I entered, my feeling of nothingness took another hit because at one glance, I knew that I missed him. I missed everything about him including watching him do something ordinary, like scribble on paper, and marveling at how beautiful he could be doing it.
The second after I came through the door, his head came up, his expression changed and he dropped his quill.
I blocked out his expression.
I needed to. If I didn’t, I’d feel something.
I couldn’t allow myself to do that.
So I didn’t
“Close the door, dove,” he called quietly as he straightened from the desk.
I did as bid, steeling myself against him calling me “dove.”
I’d missed that too.
I closed the door and positioned to stand in front of it, holding my cloak over my arm, my gloves tight in my hand.
Apollo moved to the front of his desk, his eyes on me as he did, and there he stopped.
“Will you come here?” he asked.
So Apollo, wanting me to go to him.
As irritating as that could be, I missed that too.
“No, thank you,” I answered.
I saw his jaw clench.
He did this holding my gaze and he gave it a moment before he stated, “I said some things.”
“Yes, you did,” I agreed matter-of-factly.
He registered my tone immediately. I knew it because I saw his almost imperceptible flinch before he recovered and went on.
“I regret them, poppy.”
I made no reply.
“I was worried about you,” he told me.
I remained silent.
“And when we found him, Christophe shared things that were troubling.”
I said nothing.
“I had many weighty matters on my mind. Too many, all at once.”
I held my silence.
Apollo started toward me, saying, “Alas, my dove, I took that out on you.”
I finally broke my silence and he stopped moving when I said, “I’d actually prefer it if you stayed over there.”
“Maddie—” he started, his voice soft, sweet.
I couldn’t allow myself to hear that either.
If I did, his voice would definitely make me feel more than nothing.
So I interrupted him by announcing, “I want to go home.”
His body stilled. All of it, top to toe. I watched the power of it still completely and it must be said, it was a remarkable sight.
Then I watched it come alert and that was even more remarkable.
But (I told myself) neither of these made me feel anything.
“You are home,” he said quietly.
“I’m not,” I returned. “I’m in Karsvall, your home. Karsvall is in Lunwyn, your country. In the Northlands, your continent. All of that is in your world. I want to go back to my world.”