Sorrows of Adoration (69 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Chapman

Tags: #romance, #love, #adventure, #alcoholism, #addiction, #fantasy, #feminism, #intrigue, #royalty, #romance sex

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
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That afternoon when
Leiset sat with me after I had eaten, I wrote ‘Where’s Jarik?’ on
the slate.

Her face went
noticeably pale, and she very nervously stammered, “Jarik? Jarik
is … on a journey. He’s not here.”

A
journey?
I
thought.
Now? When I am ill?
No, he would not go away willingly during such a time. I
underlined the ‘Where’ on the slate.

“I don’t know, Aenna.
Don’t fret. I’m sure in time you shall see him again. Just not
right now.”

Leiset refused to speak
on the subject further. Her obvious discomfort and her vague words
worried me greatly. I became convinced that Kurit and Jarik had
fought and, as I had worried when we returned to Endren, that Kurit
had sent him away or perhaps even banished him from Keshaerlan.

I tried asking Tash,
but he told me not to trouble myself with anything other than my
recovery. Then he, too, awkwardly stammered something about Jarik
being out of the palace at the moment and left the room.

I decided I simply had
to ask Kurit, for if my husband had been angry with Jarik, he ought
to have been equally angry with me. When Kurit was next alone with
me, I wrote the same question to him on the slate.

Kurit was better at
controlling his face in times of stress than the others, but I knew
him well enough to see the concern in his eyes at the question. He
smiled at me nonetheless and said gently, “Don’t worry about Jarik
right now, my love.”

I tapped the chalk on
the slate and looked at him seriously.

Kurit took the chalk
from my hand and set it aside with the slate. He then took my hand
between his own and said, “Really, Aenna, you should be
resting.”

I pulled my hand out of
his grasp and pointed to the slate.

Kurit sighed and after
a quiet pause, said, “He’s on a journey.”

I knew that this
couldn’t be the entire truth after the way Leiset and Tash had
spoken. I shook my head at Kurit and pointed to the board
again.

“Aenna, this is not the
time to talk about it.”

I reached for the
slate, and Kurit handed it to me, albeit reluctantly, and probably
only because he knew I’d injure myself to get it if I had to. I
wiped the question away and wrote, “Did you fight with him?”

Kurit’s eyes closed for
a moment, and he made the most awful sigh. My heart lurched in my
chest in fear.

“No, Aenna. We didn’t
fight. Please, let’s not do this. Not now. You need to get
better.”

As he spoke, I wiped
the question away and wrote, “Did Kasha cut him with poison
blade?”

Kurit looked confused
and said, “No, she killed herself after stabbing you. I told you
that.”

Again I wiped and
wrote, “Where is he? TRUTH.”

He sighed again and
asked quietly, “You’re not going to stop asking are you?”

I shook my head. I had
learned this annoying little trick from him and was pleased to
watch it work just as well for me.

Kurit took the slate
and chalk away again and picked up a cloth to wipe the dust from my
hand. He didn’t look at my face as he did so and seemed profoundly
sad. My heart thumped heavily in fear.

“Aenna, I don’t know
how to tell you this. I wanted to wait until you were feeling
better to talk to you about it.”

Still not making eye
contact with me, he sighed again, his body shivering with it in
obvious sadness. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it softly
several times. He then moved my hand to his chest and held it
there. I could feel his heart pounding and his body trembling. He
closed his eyes for a moment and sighed again.

Then he looked at me
and blurted, “He’s dead, Aenna. Jarik’s dead.”

Everything stopped. My
heart stopped in my chest. The sounds around us stopped. The
flickering candles stood still. Everything around me ceased as my
mind reeled.

I choked back a breath
as my body realized I had stopped breathing. I told myself in a
panic that I had not heard those words, that this was simply a
nightmare, that I would wake soon and find that Jarik was at my
bedside, watching over me as always.

But Kurit kept
speaking, and I knew that I was awake. His words were too clear to
be dream-speak.

“We thought that you
were going to die. He was sure of it, and he felt that he had
failed you. He couldn’t bear to live in a world without you. He
took the poignard that was to have killed you and went to the royal
crypt. He removed his armour, laid himself upon his father’s tomb,
and …”

I shook my head
vigorously, ignoring the pain in my shoulder from the movement. I
wanted to beg him to tell me that it wasn’t true, but even if I
could have spoken my throat was locked. I felt panic, shock, and
such horrific loss that my body began to shudder with silent
sobs.

Kurit came right to me
and put his arms around me, cradling me. He tried to calm me,
begging me not to cry lest I damage my healing wounds, but I didn’t
care. He kissed my forehead and held me tightly to him, and he wept
with me, rocking me slowly.

“He didn’t know that
you would live,” Kurit said between his own sobs. “He put the blade
into his own heart thinking that dying before you would restore his
honour. Aenna, he loved you so much! I know how his heart broke to
see you dying, because I felt as hopeless and lost as he did, but I
could never be so brave. And I couldn’t leave our son an orphan.
But he loved you. I know he loved you, Aenna. Please, he would want
you to live, so don’t tear yourself apart now that you’ve finally
begun to heal, please …”

Leiset or someone else
must have seen or heard the commotion, because Tash was somehow
alerted to it and ran into the room, asking what had happened.

For the first time in
my life, I cared not who saw me weep. I had no concern for
appearances of propriety or strength. This was too much. This was
worse than any pain that Kurit had ever caused, because at least
then I had had anger to strengthen me and Jarik to comfort me. But
to think that Jarik was gone, that a good man had taken his life
because of me—it was too much to bear. My mind cried out that it
could not be true, that there must be a mistake, that surely he
could never be dead. Not my beloved Champion. He was too strong to
ever die.

I heard Tash bark at
Kurit to ask why I was so distraught.

Kurit, still holding
me, looked up at Tash to say, “It’s Jarik. She knows about
Jarik.”

Tash tried to calm me,
but I batted his hands away from me. I could not stand the thought
of being comforted. There was no comfort. There was only loss and
pain and guilt and a terrible longing to see my beloved Jarik’s
handsome face again. I ached to touch his cheek and see his loving
eyes regard me happily. But in my mind, all I could see was the
last image I had of him: terror as he watched me lose consciousness
as a result of Kasha’s vile poison.

Kasha! That evil, contemptible viper!
my mind screamed.
She caused this!

I began thrashing in
fury and horror as Kurit and Tash tried to grab my flailing arms
and keep me still.

Tash bellowed, “How did
she learn of Jarik’s death?”

“I told her!” Kurit
cried above my now vocal sobs. My voice apparently did work, though
it sounded hoarse and ugly with my pain.

“Why would you do such
a foolish thing while she’s still recovering?” Tash chastised.

“Because she kept
asking, and I’m a weak-willed fool! Aenna, please! You can’t do
this to yourself!”

Kurit managed to pin
both my wrists against my chest as he begged me further to calm
down. But I could not. I wanted to go to Jarik’s rooms and find
that he was sitting there and that this was all a fiendish joke or
hallucination.

Tash tried to get me to
drink something to make me sleep, but I fought him off. I wrenched
my hand out of Kurit’s grasp and batted the cup away, sending it
flying out of Tash’s hands.

“Well, that’s far
enough, then,” Tash grumbled. He grabbed a cloth and doused it with
a pungent-smelling liquid. Then as Kurit pinned me again, Tash
pushed the cloth against my face. I held my breath and struggled
against them, but soon my body overruled me and inhaled. I felt
immediately weak and could no longer fight them.

With only two more
breaths, I fell into a miserable sleep.

 

Chapter
26

 

WHEN I AWOKE, IT was
the middle of the night. Leiset sat nearby, watching over me. My
heart felt as though it were being crushed inside my chest when I
recalled that Kurit had told me Jarik was dead.

No,
I
thought
. It
cannot be. Jarik is strong. He could never die. Not like that, not
as Kurit said.

I closed my eyes again
and reached out with my mind to the Gods in prayer that it was not
true, that I had merely had a nightmare or perhaps a hallucination
brought on my by illness.

I decided that I simply
had to go to his room and find him. I would only need to look at
him, and he would immediately wrap his strong arms around me. Then
I would know that he was well, that I would soon be recovered, and
that we would all be happy together.

Without a word or
glance to Leiset, I sat up and swung my legs out of the bed.

“Aenna, what is it?
What do you need? Lie down. I shall fetch whatever you need,” she
said as she rushed to me and put her gentle hands on my
shoulders.

Despite her touch, I
pushed myself up from the bed to stand. I whispered hoarsely, “I’m
going to see Jarik,” as I wobbled on my feet. My legs felt as
though there were no bones in them.

Leiset made a sorrowful
little sound and said, “Aenna, you must lie back down. Please.”

I ignored her and took
a few awkward steps, bracing myself against the post of the
bed.

“Really, Aenna, do lie
down. You shouldn’t be up and about yet. And you shouldn’t be
speaking either.”

I looked at her with
all seriousness and croaked, “You can either help me get to Jarik’s
chambers or you can leave me to do it on my own, but don’t try to
stop me.”

I slowly walked away
from the bed, leaning on whatever I could as I went out of my
bedchamber and into my receiving chamber. Leiset rushed ahead of me
to block the door to the corridor. I glared at her.

She sighed sorrowfully
and muttered, “This is madness. Tash will have my head.”

“Tash needs to remember
that he works for us and not the other way around. His care and
concern is admirable, but his advice has turned to orders, and that
has to stop,” I said. Though my voice was rough from the injury to
my throat, I knew I sounded very imperial.

Leiset opened the door
and let me take her arm for support as I walked. We went out to the
hall and turned to go towards Jarik’s chambers, where I was sure
that he slept, very much alive. Leiset whispered to one of the
guards to fetch the King to Jarik’s chambers quickly, but I ignored
her. My only concern was to behold the face of my wonderful
Champion, whom I loved and who loved me, who had saved my life and
given me the strength to endure my troubles. I simply had to touch
his face, to run my finger beneath his beard, to fall into his
loving embrace.

I had never before
realized how long the corridor of the south wing was. It seemed an
eternity before we were finally at Jarik’s door. I let go of
Leiset’s arm and opened the door without knocking. I knew that once
I told Jarik of the nightmare I had had, he would understand why I
would enter so abruptly. I knew that he would wrap his arms around
me and tell me not to fret, for everything was perfectly fine, and
he had simply been staying away that I might relax and grow healthy
again.

Leiset rushed to light
a lamp in the dark room. I called out to my Champion, but there was
no answer.

I went to the
bedchamber door and slowly pushed it open. I believed that he must
simply be sleeping but knew that he would awake to the sound of my
voice. Then he would rise and hold me, and my heart would not
suffer this agony for another moment.

“Jarik? Jarik? Please
be here,” I wished aloud. Leiset held a lantern behind me as I
walked into the bedchamber. “Jarik? Please tell me that it’s all a
terrible mistake, please …”

As Leiset entered with
the lantern, I saw that there was no one in the bed. Jarik was not
in the room. My hands begin to shake.

Then I noticed the
black cloth hung over the mirror, which I knew to be a Kydren
tradition to inform a dead person’s spirit that they are being
mourned and must no longer reside in this room.

The sight struck me as
a blow to the chest, and I fell to my knees in physical and
emotional agony. When finally I managed to suck back a breath, I
began to sob loudly. As Leiset spoke to me in panicked tones, I
crawled on my hands and knees back to the receiving room and pulled
myself up onto the couch where my beloved Champion had once held me
in comfort. My entire soul poured out as tears as I longed for him
to return and hold me that way again.

Suddenly Kurit was
beside me, putting a gentle arm around my sobbing shoulders.
“Aenna? Aenna, my love, you shouldn’t be up. Come, let me take you
back to your room.”

I shook my head as I
wept, but I turned around enough to let him embrace me. His arms
were loving and warm but could not replace Jarik’s. I sobbed
desperately into Kurit’s shoulder.

I suppose I ought
to have felt guilty, for there I was in my husband’s arms, mourning
another man whom I loved. So filled was I, though, with sorrow and
heartache that there was no room for guilt as well. My only thought
at the time was a prayer to bring my Champion back to me. My mind
kept calling out,
I want my Jarik back. Please, Jarik, come back to
me.

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