Missing Lily (Tales of Dalthia) (37 page)

“They’ll mean everything!” she cried, her fist pressed to her heart. “Because they’ll be the only thing I have!” Her voice was hysterical and shrill, her chest heaving, choking on her emotion.

Tobias became still, his eyes softening. It was a reaction that only Lorraina seemed to be able to provoke, and his next words were steady and strong. “Then what shall I say? What words shall I gift to you?”

“Truth, Tobias.” Her emotions broke through, tears clouding her eyes. “I just want truth. Any truth. Any piece of you that is real.” She took a stuttering breath. “That’s what I want. Give me that.”

A small smile slipped across his lips. It was the first genuine smile I had ever seen on his face. The tension eased and there was real affection in his eyes. “I wanted to be better. For you, I wanted to be better. Any unselfish thought, any thoughtful deed, any moment of content I ever had...every good part of me belongs to you.” He gestured to her with the sword still clutched in his fist.

That’s when the first arrow struck.

My body tensed in horror as shock reverberated in my chest. Lorraina wailed, “NO!” as her body curled in on itself, shattering from the inside. Rhys cried out as Tobias stumbled back, an arrow embedded high in his left shoulder. Knights pounded through the archway, an entire brigade surrounding him. Lorraina stepped forward, but I caught her around the waist, dragging her back as her arms reached for Tobias. She fought with such anguish that I almost lost my grip, but Nathaniel and Jarem took over, practically picking us up off our feet as they ushered us to a safe distance. I caught sight of the archer who stood on the wall, then found Rhys where he stood frozen, his face a mask of torment.

My eyes were drawn back to the spectacle. With so many swords directed at him, Tobias should have dropped his weapon and surrendered, like any sane man would have. Instead, he cried out in rage and swung his sword at the nearest guard, determination and grief cutting across his face, etching it with new lines. The knights’ response was immediate and merciless.

My legs shook, begging me to sit, but Lorraina’s cries compelled me to wrap my arms around her, supporting her body as it sagged to the ground. I sank to my knees, holding her tight, and squeezed my eyes shut against the violence, my ears filled with the sound of Lorraina’s wailing.

Chapter 26

I
KNELT
THERE
, unconsciously rocking back and forth as chaos rumbled around me. Lorraina’s cries continued, mingling with the sound of my own sobbing. I didn’t know exactly what I cried for, only that my soul ached for what I had just witnessed.

There were likely only two people in the world who cared for Tobias, and both of them had been intimate witnesses to his demise.

Firm hands wrapped around my wrists, pulling me away from Lorraina. My eyes shot open and I tried to hold on until I saw my father crouching on the other side of Lorraina, ready to take her in his arms.

“You can let her go,” Rhys’s voice sounded in my ear. “It’s over, Lylin. Breathe.”

I turned to wrap my arms around him, and tried to do as he asked, tried to control my breathing, to let go of the horror.

“Look at me,” he whispered, and I looked up. Rhys’s face was streaked with dirt and tears. Dried blood matted his hair above his left ear. His eyes were haunted, yet full of concern.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rhys.” I wanted to say more, to offer more comfort, but my emotions clawed at my insides, refusing to let me speak. I buried my head in his chest. There on the rough stone floor, with my father’s men working around us, we sat and wept together.

“Rhys.” My father’s voice drew my attention. He nodded his head toward the archway. “Take Lylin to the manor, please.”

Rhys pulled us to our feet, and my eyes fell to Lorraina.

My grief was nothing compared to the wretched anguish permeating Lorraina’s every breath. She knelt in the dirt, dried tear streaks marring her face, her hands pressed into the ground. She ignored my father’s hands resting on her shoulders as she stared in abject horror at the spot where Tobias had fallen. His body had been removed, but the soil was dark with blood.

Tobias’s words rang through my head:
I broke us
. I had known it was true when he spoke it, but to see my sister broken left me numb.

I turned away, allowing Rhys to lead me outside. He lifted me into the saddle of a horse, then mounted behind me. I was grateful for the support of his arms as they caged me in on both sides.

Nathaniel and Jarem fell in behind us as we trotted down the road. When we were beyond the sight of the fortress, Rhys moved the reins to one hand and wrapped his arm around my waist, anchoring me against his chest. I grabbed onto his arm with both hands, realizing just how desperate I was to hold on to something. Several times I caught myself digging my fingers into his arm, my hands contorted like claws. But he never pulled away, never flinched, only kissed my hair and held me tighter.

In the hour it took to return home, I went numb. The steady clop of the horse and the even steadier feel of Rhys’s heartbeat against my back had lulled me into a false reality—one where I didn’t feel.
 

But now the horse stopped, and I could sense Rhys’s tension, his reluctance to move, to face the reality of what had just happened. His tension seeped into me and I remained still as well. I didn’t want to see his face, to see the grief and the guilt and the worry. How sad that I knew there would be worry—worry for me. I was the last thing he should have been worrying about at this moment, but I knew he would be. Because he was that kind of man. The very best kind.

And so we sat there, unmoving, unwilling to break the moment, for fear that we would break altogether. My limbs felt fragile, ready to shatter and crumble into the quicksand of horror and regret that loomed beneath me.

Rhys broke my trance by kissing the top of my head. He dismounted, saying, “Come on,” as he lifted me down.
 

Jarem took the horse and I realized that Nathaniel had gone ahead. I was grateful that he could be the one to deliver the news to the house. I would have hated to see Rhys take on that responsibility.
 

We walked, hand in hand, to the front door, passing by a guard who stared at the ground, no doubt at a loss for how to react to such a situation.

We reached the entryway and our feet stopped, both of us trying to wrap our minds around the next necessary move.
 

Finally Rhys spoke. “Would you like to go lie down?”

“No.” My answer was immediate and sure. The very last thing I wanted right now was to be alone with my thoughts—or alone at all. “I’d much rather stay with you, if that is alright.”

“Good,” was all he said before pulling me into the drawing room.

“Master Rhys. Princess,” a hesitant voice broke the tense silence.

We turned to see Rosamond, standing just inside the doorway, her apron clutched in her fierce grip. “Might I get anything for you?”

Rhys and I looked at one another, and I tried to think of what I needed. I knew I must need something, but I couldn’t think of what.
 

“Lylin needs a wrap.” Rhys’s voice was still ragged, bogged down with emotion. “And some tea to warm her.”

It wasn’t until he spoke those words that I realized how very cold I felt.

“Of course.” Rosamond seemed relieved to have instructions and left the room in a rush.

We moved to the couch, sitting side by side, and Rhys did not hesitate in pulling me against his side in a fierce grip. I was glad he had taken the initiative, allowing me to comfort him while giving me the comfort I sought as well. We didn’t speak. My thoughts were a pile of emotional wreckage, and I could only imagine that Rhys’s were twice as mangled. So we sat. And we breathed. Together.

Rosamond entered without a word. She draped the wrap over me, not bothering to make either of us move. Then she moved to Rhys, wordlessly cleaning the cut on his head. She left us to our silence and returned a few minutes later with the tea, which she prepared for each of us and left on the table within our reach. She turned to leave but spun back, unable to keep herself from giving us what maternal care she could. She leaned down, gently kissing the top of my head and then Rhys’s, before leaving on quiet feet.

In the silence, our emotions rolled about the room like wind and waves. At one point we moved enough to pick up our cups and drink mindlessly, mechanically, draining them before setting them down and returning to each other’s arms.

Time passed. I don’t know how much, since we were left entirely alone until my father walked in. Rhys moved to stand in the presence of the king.

“Please, Rhys. Do not trouble yourself.”

Rhys paused before resuming his seat.
 

My father took the chair across from us, his eyes worn but determined as he looked at Rhys, then fixed his gaze on me. “Your mother and Lorraina have gone home. I must follow soon, but wanted to talk to both of you in person after everything that has happened.”

“I am sorry, Sire—” Rhys started.

My father held up his hand. “We are all sorry. We all have regrets. Your brother’s actions were most regrettable, but I want you to know that I do not take his death lightly. I take no satisfaction in it. But he left my knights no other choice.”

“I saw what happened.” The crack in his voice left a lump in my throat. “I know there was no alternative.”

My father opened his mouth, ready to say more to Rhys, but seemed to think better of it. He turned back to me. “Now that the threat to you is gone and your wounds are sufficiently healed, I must insist that you either come home or take up residence with Ariella.”

I grabbed Rhys’s hand, stiffening at the thought of leaving him.

“You may remain as a guest here tonight, along with the knights who have been here the past weeks. But tomorrow, you must go elsewhere. I am guessing you will choose to stay with your sister.” He raised his eyebrows in question.

I nodded.

“That’s fine. Nathaniel and Jarem will accompany you, as always. You are welcome to visit here during the days. I certainly have no intention of separating the two of you more than necessary at this trying time, but propriety must be observed.”

I nodded and he turned his attention back to Rhys.

“I want to thank you, Rhys, for caring for Lylin as she has recovered, for caring for her even when she was a stranger needing shelter. You are a fine man, and have my utmost respect.”

I turned to see how this statement would be taken by Rhys. There was a distinct relaxing of his shoulders, and the breath he took seemed to bear him up, giving back a bit of his pride.
 

“Thank you, Sire.”

***

I’d been awake since lying down. Sleep was clearly going to elude me this night.

I tried to convince myself to stay put, to close my eyes, to demand that sleep claim me. Instead I tossed back my covers and threw on my wrap. Slipping from the room, I nodded to Jarem, who was stationed outside my door, his face stoic but somehow still filled with compassion. He followed as I traversed the hallway and descended the stairs.

Jarem’s presence dissuaded the darker thoughts that threatened to consume me—thoughts of the last time I had descended these stairs in the night, and the events that had transpired because of my encounter with Tobias. Reaching the bottom, I turned directly toward Tobias’s study, to see for myself that it was empty and quiet.

I approached the door, tugging on my braid and reminding myself that Jarem was only a step behind.

I leaned on the doorframe, gazing into the darkness as my eyes perceived the outline of the desk, table, shelves and books. My eyes halted on the unexpected outline of a man sitting in the chair by the window.

My chest froze for just a moment before I remembered my escort and then recognized the figure as Rhys. He was slouched so low in the chair that he nearly disappeared into it. One hand supported his head as he pushed his fingers across his forehead. Back and forth they went in a steady and relentless rhythm.

I watched him, unsure if I should leave him or interrupt.

Try as I might to tell my feet to walk away, my heart wouldn’t let me. I approached, stepping in silence, and settled my hand on his shoulder.

He turned his head in surprise, and the moonlight reflected off a tear that slipped from his startled eyes and clung to his cheek.

After a moment of shock, he seized upon my hand with a fierce grip. “Lylin.” His voice was ragged. “Did a nightmare wake you?”

His obvious concern for me in the midst of his grief tore at my heart, prompting me to step in front of him so I could better see his expression. “No. I never slept. And you?”

His gaze drifted from my face to the window, the moonlight casting a shadow over his unfocused eyes. “I did sleep, and regretted it.”

He still clung to one of my hands, so I put my other to his face. “Tell me about it. Was it a nightmare?”

He turned his head and kissed the palm of my hand. “I suppose that’s what it would be called, though there was nothing imagined in it, only a vivid recollection of those few moments, over and over. It hardly seems real.” He closed his eyes, pain creasing his face. “I wish it weren’t.” His breathing turned jagged and unsteady as he fought the emotion that seemed to bubble just below the surface. “I just keep thinking of that moment, when he was speaking to your sister, speaking about wanting to be better, about the good parts of him. How he said, ‘I broke us.’ Those words haunt me. Because it wasn’t just his relationship with Lorraina that was broken. Tobias and I, we were broken. But I can’t lay the responsibility solely on him. I have to share the blame. And it makes me wonder, how much of what he became was my fault?”