The Lightning-Struck Heart (Tales From Verania 1) - Page 125

“You just… you have no….”

I cocked my head at him. “What?”

He sighed. “After you were taken to the castle, people began to realize the lives they were given in the slums were not always the lives they had to take. They thought if one of their own could grow to be someone so important, that they could change the shape of their destinies too. You inspired them, Sam.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said honestly. “Not really. I go back. To the slums. Every chance I get. It’s not as much as I used to, but I still try.”

“I know. And that’s what makes it all the more important. Your actions. And that’s why I taught myself to read. It’s why I taught myself to write. It’s why I changed my name. It’s why I joined up with the King’s Army. It’s why I kept my head down and worked until my back ached and my fingers bled. It’s why I was recruited into the knights. It’s why I was promoted to Knight Commander.”

I shook my head. “No. That was you. That was only you. I didn’t—”

“But it was because of you that I did it.” He looked down at his hands. “Not directly, but it might as well have been. I thought that if you could change your future, to make it into something more, then maybe I could too. That I could do enough to take my mom out of the slums and give her the life she deserved after putting up with a son like me.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “I made it, Sam. Mostly. I changed my future. But she died before I could change hers. I made a promise to her. Before. That I would do everything in my power to become greater than what I was born into, be more than what my station allowed. And I… I needed… need to keep that promise to her.”

I felt cold. “I’m sorry,” I said, inadequate as it was. “I didn’t know.” And there were questions that I wanted (needed) to ask: how, when, where, why. But they all stuck in my throat and I said nothing more. I’d never known the loss of a parent. I couldn’t even begin to understand.

“Most don’t,” he murmured. “They don’t know me as Nox. They only know Ryan Foxheart.”

I reached over and took his hand in mine, letting it rest in his lap. Our fingers intertwined, and he stared down at them. I didn’t like it when he hurt, even if my act of comfort hurt me more. “I know you,” I said quietly. “I know how you were. And how you are now.” I hesitated, but pushed through it. “Do the others know? About where you came from?” Meaning did Justin know. And I thought I knew the answer, but I still needed to hear it from him, no matter how crushing it would be.

He shook his head.

I sighed and withdrew my hand. I was disappointed, though I didn’t know if it was my place to be. It was none of my business what he told people about himself. I needed to remember that. Just because I was proud of where I’d come from didn’t mean that others would feel the same. The slums were awful, sure, but they’d been my home for the first half of my life, and I knew happiness there. I didn’t see the need to hide where I’d come from because others might look down upon it. Granted, most already knew I was from the slums. But, if anything, that just made the hurt a bit worse, that Ryan could see how most didn’t give a shit about me, yet he still chose to hide it about himself. And maybe, for the briefest of moments, I entertained a dark thought: Just how easy would it be to let it slip to Justin that his fiancé was born in the slums? Would Justin still be as keen to marry Ryan? It would be so easy. Then Ryan would be free and I could—

No.

No. That’s not who I was. That’s not who I am. I could never do that to him, no matter how I felt about him. It wasn’t my secret to tell.

“It’s not like that,” he said, and he almost sounded like he was pleading. “I’m not ashamed about being from the slums. It’s just… I can’t….”

“I didn’t say you were,” I said, trying to put him out of his misery. “You have to do what you have to do, you know? You don’t need to justify yourself. Especially to me. I’m proud of how far you’ve come. And flattered that you think that I helped in whatever way I did, though I don’t think I deserve that. I promise your secret is safe with me.”

“It’s not meant to be a secret,” he said. “You have to believe me about that.”

“I do,” I said, even though it felt like a lie.

“Can we just—?”

“It’s late,” I said, because I could see this brewing into something more damning. “I should get some sleep. You good for the first watch still?”

He nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it a

moment later. Maybe he understood that it was time we stopped before we couldn’t stop anymore.

“Give me a couple of hours and I’ll take over,” I told him.

He looked away.

I turned over on my side away from him and tried to take calm, even breaths. To shut my mind down so I could at least sleep for a little while.

Of course it wasn’t that easy. It never had been and all I could think of now was RyanRyanRyan and NoxNoxNox. About how I could be so stupid to think I could get to know him better without there being consequences. Without allowing him to get even further under my skin. That was proving to be difficult.

After what felt like ages, he said, “Sam?”

I thought about ignoring him. Feigning sleep. Instead, I said, “Yeah.” My voice was rough.

“What happened to him?”

“Who?”

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
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