Page 169 of Onyx Cage: Volume II
So many times, I had walked out of this room alone, and I had been half-convinced I would have to do it again today. But however she felt, whatever her personal feelings on the matter were, she stood tall as she walked at my side.
Trusting me, just as I had asked her to do.
I wondered if she was regretting agreeing to that now.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
The woman’s screams echoed in my head the rest of the day. Her husband’s, too, for that matter.
I got through the motions of training with my men and finishing up business around the estate before it was time to head back to my and Rowan’s rooms. When I reached our door, I paused for a moment, bracing myself to face her again.
She might have stood publicly by my side earlier, but she had also watched me exile and brand a man for the egregious crime of refusing to murder children. I wasn’t sure how I felt about his choice.
The children had died anyway, and his family had paid for his conscience.
But part of me was almost jealous, in spite of the branding and the pain and the life I knew he would have to live now, because it was a stand I had never been able to take.
Who knew how many more innocents my father might harm if I weren’t here to stay his hand?Even in Lochlann, I had worked constantly to subtly counteract his orders, though this one had obviously slipped through the cracks.
I supposed I could just add the screams from today to the rest of those that haunted me.
“Van?” Yuriy’s voice cut into my thoughts.
Kirill must have gone home to his wife for the day.
I gave my cousin a tired look, and he returned it with one of understanding. We had all been forced to make decisions that ate away at our souls, even Yuriy, at only seventeen.
Nodding in return, I finally pushed open the door.
Rowan was sitting in the window seat near our bed, staring out at the mountains. Her crimson curls fell freely down her back, and she was wearing her black-and-white tartan nightclothes.
She turned when I entered, her green gaze assessing me. Wanting to talk about literally anything but what happened earlier, I gave her outfit a once over.
“Interesting dinner attire,” I commented, though even I heard the hollow sound to my voice.
“I thought perhaps we could have dinner sent to our rooms?” Rowan mentioned in a neutral tone.
I raised my eyebrows. “As tempting as that sounds, we have--”
“Dinner with the lords,” she finished, a ghost of a smirk on her lips. “Taras told me. He also said it wasn’t completely necessary, so... I could ask him to convey our regrets. And we could relax here.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. I didn’t really need to have dinner with the lords tonight so much as I hadn’t been prepared to face Rowan’s judgment about the Unclanning.
But she didn’t appear to have any.
“That...would be preferable,” I admitted.
She nodded, then went to the door to tell Yuriy while I unbuttoned my coat. I hung my clothes up one by one, and Rowan shook her head.
“You know, you could just put them on the chair for now.”
I looked over to where her dress from earlier was flung casually over one of the sitting room chairs, her shoes kicked haphazardly next to them.
“Why does yourfor nowalways seem to stretch on into forever?” I asked, though I couldn’t quite inject my usual amount of amusement into my voice.
She played along, but her subdued tone told me she read my mood accurately. “You told me you wanted my clothes on your bedroom floor.”
“That part didn’t count, because we both knew I was lying.” My lips tilted up at the corners, barely.