Sorrows of Adoration (70 page)

Read Sorrows of Adoration Online

Authors: Kimberly Chapman

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

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
8.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

After some time of
sobbing, fatigue slowed my mourning down to a much quieter stream
of tears. My head pounded so that I thought it might split open. I
actually wished that it would.

Kurit pulled back and
tried to lift my face towards his. I soon let him, but I could not
look at his eyes. I was too ashamed of loving Jarik with such
intensity.

Leiset handed Kurit a
handkerchief. He gently dabbed my puffy and sore cheeks and then
kissed my forehead.

“I know how much he
meant to you,” he said, his voice rough with sadness. “I loved him
too. He was as a brother to me, my only friend and companion my
whole life long. I know it hurts, and I feel the same emptiness at
his loss that you do. But he didn’t want this, Aenna. He wouldn’t
have wanted you to make yourself ill again weeping for him.”

Tash burst into the
room and began to chastise everyone in sight. I leaned to Kurit so
that my mouth was near his ear, and I whispered, “Keep that ghoul
away from me. I shall banish the next person who drugs me against
my will.”

Kurit kissed my cheek
and rose from the couch, leaving me hunched over in mourning. He
took Tash aside and quietly spoke with him. I could not hear what
was said, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that the most noble,
kind, and wonderful man I’d ever known had taken his life because
of me. A thousand ways that I could have prevented this tragedy
entered my mind to torture me further.

I glanced up as I saw
Tash step around Kurit to approach me. Kurit grabbed the
physician’s arm and declared, “If she’s strong enough to walk here,
she’s strong enough to mourn. I’ll take care of her.”

I closed my eyes and
leaned my head on the back of the couch. I heard Kurit ask Tash and
Leiset to leave us alone and close the door behind them. He sat
back down beside me and took my hand in his.

For a long time he said
nothing; he simply sat by my side, and I was grateful for it. I
thought about what he had said, that he had loved Jarik as well,
and I grieved for his loss along with my own. It crossed my mind
that such a thing might turn him back to his drunkenness, but,
unable to deal with such a notion in that moment, I pushed the
thought away.

My eyes still closed, I
whispered, “Are you angry with me?”

Kurit caressed my cheek
and replied, “No. Why would you think such a thing?”

After a moment, I
opened my eyes and looked into his. He looked so pained, and I
didn’t know if it was because of my question or if he had borne
that expression since finding me in Jarik’s chambers.

Tears welled up in my
eyes again as I said, “Because you must know that I loved him
deeply.”

“Oh, Aenna,” he
whispered sadly as he pulled me into his arms. He cradled me,
stroking my hair softly. “I’m not angry with you at all. I know you
would not have sought his embrace if I had been there for you, if I
had not been causing you such grief. He told me that you were not
unfaithful to me. He told me about your great pain, and how my
foolishness wore away your independent resolve until you needed
someone to be there for you. I’m actually thankful he was
there.”

He kissed my forehead.
“I’ll be honest with you,” he continued. “Had it been any other
man, I can’t say that I could be so fair-minded. Not that I’d have
been angry with you, though. I don’t think I would have been,
because I’d like to imagine that I would still have the sense to
accept my own fault in all that has happened. But any other man who
would take you into his heart in such a manner … I think that
I would have been furious with him. I would have loathed any other
man. But not Jarik, my cousin and friend. He may have been quite
the scoundrel before we knew you, but I am all too aware of how
abruptly his life changed when you entered it. He was never a man
to steal the love of another.

“I think that I always
knew that he loved you, but I ignored it. I was too wrapped up in
my own feelings for you to consider his. I saw how he doted upon
you, worried for you, and desperately wished to protect you from
all harm. And he was my dearest friend. I suppose I couldn’t bear
to think that I was hurting him by having you when he did not.

“We spoke before he
left, and I told him myself that I did not begrudge the love you
shared, because I understand it. Perhaps if he had lived and in
days to come I was to witness you being so emotionally close, I
might have felt a hint of jealousy. I am human, after all. But I
should like to think that I could trust both of you, had he
lived.”

I wondered how much
Jarik had told him. I was not angry, for I suspected Jarik spoke
only because he thought I was dying. But I wondered how much Kurit
knew. I wondered if he knew that I had begged for Jarik to make
love with me. I prayed that he did not and that he did not know how
Jarik had brought me to ecstasy. I could not bear to have Kurit
condemn me in that moment.

“I love you, Kurit. I
love both of you. I know that’s wrong, immoral—”

Kurit put his finger on
my lips and gently said, “Hush. It’s never immoral to love. I loved
him too, albeit in a different way. Aenna, I know this is poor
comfort right now, but I want you to know that you shall never have
to turn to someone else for solace again. Not as long as I live.”
He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes. “I swear it.
I shall not let you down again. I want you to be able to count on
me to hold you when your own strength isn’t enough. Even if Jarik
were alive and well, I would say this to you. Nothing can replace
that good man in our lives, but I want you to understand that no
man, living or dead, shall be needed to replace me again.”

I began to cry again.
Kurit held me and many times kissed my forehead.

As my tears began to
grow quiet once more, Kurit unexpectedly chuckled softly. I lifted
my head from his shoulder and looked at him in surprise.

Kurit smiled at me a
little and said, “I’m sorry. I just find myself remembering the
oddest little things from our childhood that I haven’t thought
about for years. I was just recalling the time when we went
swimming in the lake at the cottage without permission and had swum
across to the other shore, leaving our shoes and shirts on the main
shore, and were chasing each other in the trees, so we didn’t
notice when our nurse came looking for us. She found our shoes and
shirts at the edge, with no sign of us in the water, and she
started shrieking, ‘They’ve drowned! They’ve drowned! Somebody
help!’

“We slipped quietly
back into the water, and Jarik, the rascal, he went underwater and
swam fast to the other side, surfacing quietly behind her, then
crept up to her and tapped her shoulder as she wept hysterically.
She turned, saw him, and screamed so loud that it echoed over the
lake. Then she fainted dead away, and he stood there, dripping wet,
with a mischievous grin upon his face.”

I found that I was
smiling incredulously. “Jarik did that?” I asked.

Kurit nodded and
laughed, though his eyes were still sad. “You have no idea what a
rascal he was before you inspired him to grow up. Oh, Aenna, I
could tell you such stories you wouldn’t believe.”

“Tell me,” I whispered.
“It would help me to hear of him in happier days, even if he did
deserve to have all privileges removed for at least a week for such
a prank.”

So Kurit began to tell
me stories of jokes and mishaps and adventures the two boys had
shared. We wept often as he spoke, but some of the stories were
just too ridiculous to not inspire a laugh. My heart ached, but I
did not feel as empty as I had before. Jarik’s life had been cut
brutally short, and for that I will always mourn, but his life had
been a good one. I took what comfort I could from that.

Kurit spoke until the
light of first dawn could be seen under the crack of Jarik’s
bedchamber door. My dear husband kissed my cheeks and forehead and
then said, “I should take you to your bed.”

He rose and lifted me
up from the couch. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried
me to my bed. As he laid me there, he said, “You’re as light as the
air, Aenna. Please don’t let this tragedy prevent you from getting
well. When we thought you were dying, the people heard of what had
happened and gathered all around the palace, singing lamentations,
weeping pitifully, bearing flowers and candles in hope and prayer
for your life. There are so many living people who love you and
need you. Please don’t let yourself waste away for one who is
dead.”

I nodded, unable to
think of anything to say.

“Shall I stay with you
here?” he asked.

I nodded again, and he
slipped under the blankets with me. As I lay in my husband’s arms,
I saw again that last terrible image of Jarik’s anguished face.
Before I could begin to weep again, I forced myself instead to
remember how my Champion had kissed me just before we arrived back
home. Remembering his soul-lifting kiss gave me the peace I needed
to finally sleep.

* * *

A few days later, when
she thought I would be able to handle it, Leiset gave me the sealed
letter that Jarik had asked her to put in my hand when I was dead.
She wept as she handed it to me and then offered to leave me alone
to read it.

“No,” I said. “Stay
with me. This is going to be awful. I can feel it already.”

She sat beside me on
the bed so she could read along with me. I broke open the seal and
unfolded the letter. Just seeing Jarik’s handwriting made my heart
heavy. His words almost made me wish I had died after all:

 

To my dearest love
Aenna,

These words come too
late, as you are dying of a wound I should have prevented. I beg
for your forgiveness in failing again to protect you from harm.
Your life since knowing us has been filled with such strife and
pain, and yet through most of it you remained strong and resilient,
and I am so proud of you for that. My heart breaks to remember when
your strength failed you, and although I am glad you lived through
it and found some comfort in my arms, I cannot help but feel guilty
for sentencing you to live only to meet such a gruesome end. But
Kurit says that you embraced him, and I take some solace in knowing
you and he were back on the path to love and happiness before this
tragedy.

And oh, dearest love,
it is a tragedy! Your name shall be sung by the bards throughout
time as the Good Queen Aenna who loved her people and was strong
for them. The people already weep for you as you are dying, and I
do not doubt that the generation of daughters born in the next
several years will be full of girls bearing your name, in your
honour. Life shall go on for them without you, but already you are
a woman of legend, and your story touches their hearts and inspires
them.

But life cannot go on
for me without you. Not only because I love you and my life would
be empty, meaningless, and dark without your bright presence, but
because it was ultimately my failing that led to this. I declared
myself your Champion, yet I have repeatedly failed to protect you
from harm. Now all of Keshaerlan pays the price of my folly.

I hold before me the
blade that took your life. It has been cleaned of your blood and
that of the cruel woman who committed this unspeakable crime
against us. I shall use this very blade to take my own life, for it
would be a great dishonour for your so-called Champion to live a
moment longer than you. I know that if you were able, you would beg
me not to take my life even as yours fades, but it is only right
that I precede you into death. I pray that I may be more helpful to
you in death than I have been in life. I shall wait on the path to
the Everafter for you, and watch over you there in chaste love
until it is Kurit’s due time to join us.

I shall ask good
Leiset to place this in your hand upon your mournful entombment,
that your soul may be aware of its content and know to watch for me
on the path.

I await you in love
and sorrow,

Jarik

 

“By the Gods,” I
whispered as I dropped the letter and covered my face with my
hands. I cried into my hands as Leiset put her gentle arms around
me, weeping herself. “Oh, Leiset, if only he had waited a few
days!”

“He still would not
have forgiven himself,” she said. “You know how guilt-stricken he
was when he thought that it was his failure that led to your
abduction. This time he was actually in the room. He may well have
gone mad, had he lived.”

That awful thought
broke my heart all the more. “Still, had he lived …” I
couldn’t finish the sentence. The crushed possibilities were so
many that I could not speak of merely one.

After some time of
crying together, Leiset collected herself enough to say, “Aenna, I
know this will not comfort you now, but I believe Jarik may have
saved your life in his death.”

“Whatever do you mean?
How could that be? This has almost killed me itself!” I replied in
anguish.

“I think perhaps his
soul left his body and went into yours to strengthen you. I know it
sounds foolish, but if you knew how close you seemed to
death … Aenna, there’s a part of me that truly believes Jarik
gave you his soul, and he lives inside you now.”

I tried to smile, but I
could not believe the fanciful notion. “That’s a pleasant concept,”
I said, trying to sound appreciative, “and one I wish I could
believe, but if he is inside me I wouldn’t feel such a dreadful
emptiness when I think of him.”

“You need to remember
the good things about him,” Leiset advised. “You need to hold your
mind to the times when he made you smile.”

I nodded. “I know. When
I remember him laughing, rare though that was, or the joviality of
his spirit in teaching me to dance so long ago, those things make
me smile. But more often I remember that look on his face when he
was concerned for me, that tender look of worry coupled with
helplessness when he was at a loss as to how to make things better
for me. I remember how dearly he cared for me, and how that
adoration cost him his life, and I feel responsible.”

Other books

Something Good by Fiona Gibson
My Mistress's Sparrow Is Dead by Jeffrey Eugenides
Ruler of Naught by Sherwood Smith, Dave Trowbridge
Spectre of the Sword by Le Veque, Kathryn
Lucky Break #6 by Cindy Jefferies
Trauma by Daniel Palmer
That Silent Night by Tasha Alexander
The Hemingway Cookbook by Boreth, Craig