Tale of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 3) - Page 6

“Pah. At least you have worth outside your matrimonial value. You may carry a sword, become a soldier, or an artist, or a scholar. The very best I can hope for is a husband who does not beat me when I wish to pick up paper and charcoal. Or one who philanders.” She paused. “Correction—one who philanders too much. I am beginning to think some dalliance is inevitable, if court life is anything to judge.”

“You do not understand.” Leo shut his eyes and let out a long, beleaguered sigh. “You simply do not.”

“Then explain it to me, my darling.”

“I—” He hesitated. His expression became unsure and pained, the lines of his face drawing thin. What was so terrible that he could not tell her? His oldest friend?

She tightened her hold on him, tucking her head closer to his. “I love you more than my own brothers, Leopold. There is nothing you could say—nothing you could do—that could change that. You cannot escape my friendship, no matter how hard you try.”

“Are you so certain?”

“I am a very stubborn creature when tasked.”

That made him chuckle weakly. Finally, he sighed again, and she felt his muscles go slack as he surrendered to whatever he felt was so inevitable. “I have no passion for women.”

“Oh. Well.” She paused. “That does not seem to be much of a barrier for many of the fops in—”

“No.” He cut her off, his tone frustrated. “I do not desire men, either. I desire no one.” Now that some manner of dam had burst, it all rushed forward in a flood. “All my life, Marguerite, I have seen how people gaze at each other. Desire, need, wanting—stolen kisses in the shadows. I care not for a single speck of it. There has not been a single creature of any gender that has ever caught my eye.”

She would have made a comment about taking that quite personally, but now did not seem the time to jest. She merely held him as he kept speaking.

“I am—I am unwell. I do not feel lust. At all. I wished to join the priesthood—where I could hide my disorder behind the veil of God, but Father would not have it. Therefore, I did precisely as you said. I hid behind the sword and shield. I ran off to the hills at every opportunity whenever the subject arose. But now, he will suffer it no longer. He is to force me to marry. I—I cannot—if I were wed to some poor unsuspecting woman, what would become of me? Rumors would spread, how I could not consummate the marriage, and I would be shamed. My family would be shamed.” He choked on the last few words, struggling to keep his composure. Tears flowed renewed down his cheeks. “I am a bastard. I have precious little distance to go before familial bonds shatter. Without the position granted to me by my father, I am nothing. It his by his grace that I am not disowned and left to rot. You know this more than anyone.”

Yes. She did understand. Her heart broke for him, and she held him tight. She did not argue with him—ask him details about his condition. She understood his dilemma. What was a man if he could not perform as a man? Just as worthless a woman who could not conceive, she supposed.

How horrible that all humanity is measured by others on what lay between their legs.

Then, she knew what must need be done. She smiled. “What if the young lady were not unsuspecting?”

“Huh?” He twisted to look at her, confused. “What are you—”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Will you marry me, Leopold?”

He whirled about, kneeling now at her feet, looking up at her in shock and confusion. “Why would you do this? You would be trapped in a loveless marriage.”

“No. Not loveless.” She put her palm against his cheek and smiled. “Sexless, perhaps. But there are ways around that.” She chuckled. “Mind me not for my lovers, and I will find one who resembles you well enough that we can claim a child or two as yours. It is all very pragmatic, when you think over it. Your honor will be defended, and we may still raise a family together, if you wish.”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking between her eyes as if searching for something. “Why would you do this for me? Why?”

Gathering up his hands in hers, she held them in her lap. “You are my closest companion, Leopold. I cannot imagine my world without you at my side. I think I would find myself immensely jealous of any woman who would have you, if not I. The past few years, I wondered if you were utterly dense, how you seemingly were ignorant of my wish that you might court me.”

His cheeks went a little pink. “Not entirely dense. Simply…unable.” He looked down at the ground between them.

“Now I am no longer offended.” She chuckled. “Oh, Leopold. I wish you had told me sooner. But I know why you did not.” Picking up his hands, she kissed his fingers before setting them back down in her lap. “I believe my own father’s temperance wears thin on my unmarried status as well. No one will doubt us that we had been secreting off as lovers for years. We are inseparable.” She looked over to the battered-up tree that had borne the brunt of Leopold’s angst. “I think my nurse would prefer that manner of sparring partner than the more literal option, besides.”

He laughed at that. “I—I do not know how to thank you for this. To sacrifice your life, to…to protect me.”

“Sacrifice my life? Please.” She grinned. “How ostentatious a thought. No. With you as my husband, I can pursue all that I desire. The arts, literature, science—to see the world. You are the kindest man I could possibly think of. Who better to have at my side than my dearest and closest friend?”

A tear slipped down his cheek again, but this time she knew it was not one of anger, grief, or fear. Wordlessly, he gathered her into his arms and pulled her down to sit on his lap, and simply held her against his chest as though she were a stuffed doll. She did not mind in the slightest.

“I will speak to my father this evening.” His voice was now a quiet murmur.

“It will not take me much to convince my father. I believe he has been waiting for you to announce your intentions with me for years. He will be overjoyed.”

“I do not know what I could do to repay this favor, Marguerite.”

“Buy me a nice home. Perhaps one that overlooks a pond. Oh, could we raise ducks? I love ducks.”

He laughed again quietly, holding her tight. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

She tucked her head against his neck. She felt safe with him—she always had. Her protector and her friend.

And now soon to be her husband.

She smiled.

Tags: Kathryn Ann Kingsley Memento Mori Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024