Crossed Minds (2)

Ashley cried for a long time.

It was as though every fear and grievance she had kept buried since receiving the news had finally found its way out.

When she could speak again, she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. She stepped back from Theorad and looked up at him with a faint pout.

Her lapis-blue eyes were still wet, but her expression had brightened.

Not entirely naturally, he thought. She was putting on a brave face so that he would not have to worry about her. That was the kind of woman Ashley was.

“You've been terribly unfair,” she said. “You promised you'd come back safely.”

“But I have, haven't I? Do I look injured?”

“Of course you do.”

The answer caught him off guard.

Did she somehow know about the assassins? About the arrows that had struck him?

He glanced down at his clothing. There was no blood on it. He was wearing the fresh clothes Benelia had provided; nothing about them should have betrayed his wounds.

Then he raised his eyes.

Ashley was looking directly at his face.

“Lord Theorad, I'm not a fool,” she said. “Your complexion has changed. You look as though you've suffered for a very long time.”

“Ashley...”

“Please don't lie to me. I'm your fiancée. If we're going to be married, shouldn't I be allowed to hear what troubles you?”

The determination in her eyes made him sigh.

“Let's sit down first. You're exhausted, and we don't need to talk standing here.” He glanced toward the table. “And your shoe is over there.”

“Ah... yes. That would be better.”

Her cheeks colored. She retrieved the shoe she had lost in her haste and slipped it on again.

Then, with remarkable composure, she asked the nearby servants to leave them alone.

Theorad could not help smiling a little. Even now, she knew exactly how to take charge of a room.

He sat opposite her, and Ashley settled beside the table after straightening her wrinkled dress.

“Now tell me,” she said. “Ever since you went up to the Mage Tower... what happened?”

He found it difficult to meet her steady gaze.

But he understood her purpose.

She wants to comfort me.

By listening, Ashley hoped to share some portion of the fear he had endured.

It was a kindness he appreciated. Unfortunately, there were things he could not bring himself to recount.

He could hardly tell her how arrows had pierced him and how close he had come to dying.

For now, he would say only what she was bound to learn eventually.

“I was ambushed,” he said. “The elf saved my life.”

Ashley's fingers twitched.

She tried to smile, but unease passed across her face.

Through Roylen, she had already learned that the elf lay unconscious under the Quarantined Night and that Theorad was attempting to save her.

She had been unable to understand how such a powerful creature could have fallen into that condition.

Now she thought she knew.

She crossed into something forbidden to save Theorad.

The elf had risked her own life for him.

Ashley had always regarded her as cruel—a dangerous being who tormented Theorad for amusement. Yet how could someone who risked death to save another person be dismissed as wholly evil?

And the person she had saved was Theorad himself.

That made the contradiction harder to bear.

If the elf was willing to sacrifice herself for him, why had she treated him so harshly for so long?

Ashley wanted desperately to ask.

But she could see that Theorad did not intend to tell her more.

“Ashley. I'm sorry, but there's something I need to ask.”

Her body went still.

She wished, absurdly, that he would stop before saying it.

“Please stop investigating the elf's past. There's no need for either of us to keep doing that.”

“Ah...”

Ashley lowered her head. Her hands trembled.

She had spent a great deal of money trying to uncover the elf's secrets, all for Theorad's sake. For him, she had even involved her brother in political affairs. For him, she had joined hands with Princess Benelia and labored to become head of House Pelgaroin.

All of it was for you.

And now he was telling her to stop.

He had decided the elf was no longer a danger to him. Ashley did not know what had happened between them, but she knew he had not arrived at that judgment lightly.

Her distress was not merely the sting of wasted effort.

It was fear.

If Theorad no longer regarded the elf as cruel, what would happen next?

What if he falls in love with her?

What if he stops looking my way?

What if he doesn't love me anymore?

That won't happen.

She rejected the thought at once. It did nothing to settle her heart.

Beneath the table, Ashley gripped the folds of her skirt and forced a smile.

“Of course. I'll stop.”

She did not want him to see the jealousy she despised in herself.

Theorad studied her for a moment. He could tell there was something she was keeping from him, but he did not press her to explain.

“Thank you. And how is everyone back home?”

“Back home?”

“Those people went to considerable trouble to kill me. They may have targeted the Deharem mansion as well. Has anyone in the household been hurt?”

Ashley remembered the night with painful clarity.

It had been late when the members of the Deharem household came to her family's castle. She had been in the courtyard when Havid, the elderly chief chamberlain, rushed toward her and fell to his knees.

“Lady Ashley! Please, send soldiers! The mansion—Beynon is in danger!”

His face had been ashen. He had been crying.

Ashley immediately summoned nearby guards.

Taking twenty knights, she rode to the Deharem mansion.

What she found there stopped her short.

Masked attackers lay amid the blood. One who appeared to be their leader had a terrible wound across his throat.

And in the middle of the scene sat Beynon, covered in blood, his sword planted in the ground and his head bowed against its pommel.

Ashley dismounted and hurried to him.

He was still breathing.

Only just—but he was alive.

“He's alive!” she cried. “Get him back to the castle. He needs a physician!”

She did what first aid she could, staunching the bleeding, then helped the wounded knight onto her horse.

Back at the castle, she summoned a doctor. A long operation followed.

She did not know whether it had succeeded.

Before she could learn more, a secret letter arrived telling her Theorad had been attacked. She had left at once through the warp gate.

Now, sitting across from him, she could offer no certain report about Beynon's condition.

Theorad watched her hesitation.

“Did anyone die?” he asked carefully.

Ashley shook her head.

She had not confirmed the death of anyone in the household. Beynon had been alive when she left, and she desperately hoped the physician would save him.

Nor did she want to burden Theorad with another fear when he was plainly exhausted.

“...No one is dead.”

Theorad smiled with visible relief.

“Thank goodness. I'm so glad...”

His eyes began to close even as he spoke. He caught himself before slumping forward, blinked hard and tried to straighten.

Ashley looked at him with a troubled smile.

“I'm sorry.”

“Hm? For what?”

“You've only just finished the Quarantined Night treatment, and I kept you talking because I wanted to hear everything. You should get some sleep.”

He did not argue.

His body had reached its limit.

“Thank you for understanding,” he said, rising with difficulty. “We'll finish our conversation tomorrow.”

“Yes. Please rest.”

Ashley watched until he disappeared down the corridor.

Then she turned.

Roylen had emerged from the opposite hallway, apparently checking whether their conversation was over. He hesitated when he noticed her expression.

“Professor Roylen.”

Her voice was cold. None of the warmth she had shown Theorad remained.

“Please take me to the elf's sickroom.”

Roylen broke into a nervous sweat.

He almost refused. Then he considered the woman standing before him: the likely future head of House Pelgaroin, allied with the imperial princess. He was only a professor of the Mage Tower.

He lowered his head.

“Very well. I'll take you to her,” Roylen said, bowing politely.