The staff was back, filling our crystal goblets with what looked like some sort of brandy-wine.
She waited until they’d gone again, her hands still resting gently in her lap.
“Yes, I know,” she told him, and the flash of guilt in her eyes sent a spear of pain and anger and frustration through the bond. “I know what a shock it must be to see me here. I wanted an opportunity to explain. After I am through, I will accept any course of action you deem fit.”
Nyfain stared at her, saying nothing. In a moment, her gaze shifted to me, and she inclined her head.
“Finley. It’s nice to see you again.”
“You too…” I said, trying to stay composed.
The first course, a creamy soup dish, was brought out. Nyfain and the queen waited for the staff to move away before politely reaching for their soup spoons, Nyfain taking his arm from around my chair to do it.
Not really hungry, my stomach turning, I took up my spoon as well.
The queen took a dainty spoonful, and Nyfain followed suit. I dipped my spoon in and then just let it stay there for now. There were only so many things I could pretend at one time.
Nyfain finished his mouthful, but instead of going for another, he laid his spoon down beside the bowl and left his forearm propped against the table.
I remembered the way he’d followed my lead the first time we had dinner. He was doing it again, letting me call the shots so that I felt more comfortable, even in a formal dinner with his mother.
With a surge of emotion, I reached over and placed my hand on his thigh. He really was too good to be true.
The queen dabbed her mouth for some reason (not a drop on it), set down the spoon, and took a sip of her wine.
“Truth be told,” she said, setting down her glass, “I’m not exactly sure where to start.”
“Did Father think you were dead?” Nyfain asked.
She reached for her spoon again but hesitated and let out a small breath. “So much of this is complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it,” he said, and she tensed, as though stopping herself from flinching.
She let her hand fall to her lap. “At first, yes, he thought I was dead. He thought he’d killed me.”
I felt the scowl drop from my face. Nyfain froze.
“He blamed me for you leaving, of course,” she continued. “I’m sure you could guess that. He was a man who blamed everyone else for things that happened, never himself. You remember that, I’m sure.”
He didn’t nod, but emotions stirred through the bond. He clearly did.
“Our relationship was bad after you left, but he kept the bruises in covered areas. He was good at hiding those, as I’m sure you also remember. I had a plan, though. Before you even found someone to marry—”
Rage rushed through me, and I sucked in a breath, leaning back to try to control it. Nyfain glanced over before placing a hand on my shoulder. His touch helped calm the rage, the thrashing of my dragon.
“I apologize,” she said to me, and it sounded sincere. “After you left, Nyfain, I got all my affairs in order. When all the arrangements had been made, I told him I was leaving. That I was going home. You were safe, and there was no one else I needed to—or had the ability to—protect. While I should’ve felt a keener duty to the kingdom, he’d stripped away all my power by then. He’d torn away all my duties but the things concerning the plants—the things specifically concerning trade. So I told him I was leaving.”
“And he tried to stop you,” Nyfain said in a measured voice. Pain seeped through the bond.
“Yes. I knew I’d get beaten for it, but I was prepared. My plan accounted for the likelihood that I would not be able to walk or fly. And so I summoned my courage and stood my ground.”
She lifted her chin a little, with her hands in her lap and her back straight, and even so, she’d never looked more fragile. If she weren’t so composed, I knew she’d be shaking. I barely dared to breathe.
“And he nearly killed you,” Nyfain said softly, his trembling hand moving to take mine on his thigh. This was what he’d always been afraid of. The guilt he’d lived with for years.
“Yes,” she said, her tone even. “When I refused to back down, he just kept going and going. His commander at the time, a sniveling wretch of a man, did nothing. He stood by and watched. It was Dee who finally tore him away from me, taking damage herself. She broke through the door of his quarters, took down that commander, and put herself between me and the king. It was her words that finally broke through his wrath. She told him he’d already killed me, so what was the point in beating a dead body? She said I’d have to have a closed casket, and the whole kingdom would blame him for my death.”