Chapter 212 Things I Should Have Known

212 Things I Should Have Known

NOTE: If this appears to be a duplicate chapter to you, that's because I had an #AuthorFail moment and missed a chapter about three chapters back. If you go into your library, pull down to refresh it, then reopen this book, you should see chapter #208 called "Fortress City" which wasn't there before, and had quite an important development in the plot. I am so sorry! I hope you enjoy...

*****

AYLETH

Ayleth wasn't sure how long she slept. All she knew was that she woke as the water grew cold, quickly washed herself and dried, then pulled on a mostly-clean long-shirt to sleep in.

Listening carefully, there were no more voices next door, so she unlocked the door and opened it slowly to give him time to warn her if he was undressing. "Falek, I'm done—oh!"

Falek and the woman were both standing in the middle of the room, between the two beds. One of his hands clasped her waist, the other fisted in her hair. When Ayleth opened the door they whirled away from each other, the woman putting one hand to her mouth, while Falek whipped around to face Ayleth then froze in place as if he didn't know what to do. His blue eyes caught hers, locked and pleading.

"I'm... I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"No, I'm sorry, Sire," the woman said breathlessly, bobbing a curtsey. "I should be going."

Falek's eyes widened and his hand snapped out to catch her arm. "Parys, please—"

"Please let me go," she whimpered. Falek yanked his hand back like he'd been burned, and the woman ran for the door, opening it with another hurried apology to Ayleth, then slipping out.

When the door was closed and her footsteps faded down the hall, Ayleth's heart sank.

"Falek, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, but he wouldn't look at her. "It's for the best," he said a moment later, then cleared his throat. "We should rest. We'll have an early start in the morning."

Ayleth nodded, but didn't move. Neither did Falek. She felt like she should know this woman. Know about her, in any case. She felt like this explained a lot.

"Falek, is she—"

"Please, Ayleth. Don't," he said hoarsely. He turned his head to look at her, and there was such pain in his eyes she felt it like a blow. "Please... just go rest."

Borsche sighed and looked at the City with narrowed eyes. "In the event that the citizens of Anvor had been alerted to our flight, we were to try to make it through the City and meet here. If we were unable, we were to take rooms at the Inn recommended by our eyes and ears that was closest to the North Gate. And we were to rise early, when the guards were sluggish and about to change shifts, leaving as soon as the gates opened—but not to be first in line. Rather to make certain that there was no ambush set at the gates, then leave at a walk, just like any traveler with a long road ahead."

"So she's at an Inn with Falek?"

"Likely, yes."

Etan turned to frown at the City again. "He won't sleep. He'll be tired when they arrive."

"And yet, we will move on at least for a few hours, to make certain no one from Anvor is following."

"So, where will we meet them tomorrow?"

"Right here," Borsche said.

"We have nothing to do? Nothing to... help?"

"No. Which is why I suggest you get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long and tense day."

Etan snorted, but after a few more minutes of pacing, he realized Borsche was right and came to join him near the log.

"I'm not going to sleep—at least, not for a while," he said quietly. "Why don't you rest and I'll wake you when I get drowsy?"

Borsche smiled. "Sounds good to me."

Then the bastard curled up in his bedroll and was asleep within minutes.

Etan shook his head. He wished he could do that... but instead his eyes were continually drawn back to that dark, looming city, and the plaguing questions of his wife's safety.

With a deep breath, he sent another pulse of love through the bond, reassuring himself when it was returned, though it seemed... distracted.

She was alive and well enough to do that much. He would let that comfort him. And once she was back in his arms, he'd never allow them to be split again.