Read Sorrows of Adoration Online
Authors: Kimberly Chapman
Tags: #romance, #love, #adventure, #alcoholism, #addiction, #fantasy, #feminism, #intrigue, #royalty, #romance sex
I spent most of the
ride home with my head resting on his strong shoulder, his arm
around me. We did not speak often, but the silence was not
uncomfortable. As always, I felt safe in his presence and was
comforted by his touch.
Yet as we entered the
last half hour of our journey, I grew restless and fidgety. I sat
very straight upon the bench, which made my back ache, what with
the bumping and jostling of the coach. Jarik moved his hand gently
upon my back in an effort to relax me but to no avail.
“Aenna, we have to
believe Kurit will have changed,” he finally said, breaking the
silence.
“And if he hasn’t?”
“Then as I told you
before, I shall take you away from Endren. Either way, you shall be
safe, I swear it.”
I sighed but did not
relax. “And what of our intimacy? We have betrayed him. I have
transgressed in the eyes of the Gods.”
“I want to regret what
happened, Aenna, but I confess, I cannot,” he said.
“Should we tell
him?”
Jarik sighed. “I have
been pondering that myself. On one hand, my honour dictates that I
confess to him all that I have felt and said and done, and to allow
him to do what he feels is just in return. On the other hand, to
grovel in honesty before him and save what little remains of my own
honour is to condemn you as well, and that goes against everything
in my mind and heart. I cannot put you in danger of his
condemnation, his wrath, and least of all, his legal right of
punishment.”
“So then we shall not
tell him?” To be honest, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, and I
was hoping Jarik would decide for me. In most things in my life,
having decisions made for me was at best tiresome, at worst
infuriating. But there was an awful consequence to either side of
this decision, and I felt truly unable to make it for myself.
Perhaps I thought that Jarik making the decision for me would
alleviate some of my guilt.
“I think,” he said
slowly, “it would be best not to tell him for the time being. Let
us see first how he has changed, or not. If he is well again and
the kind man we both knew and loved, then perhaps we shall go to
him together in time and confess our guilt. The Kurit we knew
before would be hurt by such an admission, but I think he would
respect our reasons and our honesty, and it would be something we
could, in time, heal amongst ourselves.
“But if he remains the
wretch who struck you, or is quick to become that wretch again,
then we shall simply leave and not confess a word. After all, what
would be the point of confession then? Our affections would be
obvious in our flight and likely justifiable in the eyes of those
left behind.”
It seemed a decision to
not make a decision, but I was perfectly pleased with that. I still
sat bolt upright in nervous tension as we approached the city, for
the issue of Jarik and I aside, there was still the trepidation of
which Kurit awaited my return.
In an effort to keep my
mind from such worries, I blurted, “You know, Jarik, you really
ought to find another woman to love. It’s quite unfair of me to
continue to cling to you when I can never be yours, assuming, of
course, that Kurit is well again.”
Jarik slipped his arm
around my waist and pulled me towards him. I was unable to
completely relax, but I did allow myself to lie back against him.
He wrapped his other arm around me snugly and said, “Would you then
condemn an innocent woman to marry a man who loves and serves
another with his entire heart and soul? That would be most unfair
to such a woman.”
“I do not wish for you
to be alone. That thought breaks my heart.”
He chuckled softly and
kissed the top of my head. “Aenna, I am not alone. You are still in
my life. So long as I am allowed to remain your friend and
Champion, I shall be near you almost every day of your life. I
shall be able to see you, to speak with you, to hear you laugh,
and, if need be, to hold you when you weep. And the memories of our
kisses and longings will warm my heart in my lonely bed. Don’t fret
for me. I can quite easily lead a happy life so long as I can be
near you and see that you are well in body and soul. I will not
lie: I shall long for you at times, and I shall dream of things
that cannot be. I am but a man in that. But honestly, I neither
require nor wish your pity.”
I turned myself in his
arms to look up at him. “I don’t pity you. I love you.”
Jarik touched my cheek
softly and said, “I know. And you love Kurit, your husband. These
are both good things that I deeply cherish.”
“If Kurit has changed
his ways, then I cannot ever kiss you again as I did at the
cottage,” I said bluntly.
“I know,” he said,
nodding.
“Do you not long for
one last kiss, then?” I asked. I had been hoping to hear his
romantic words requesting it, but when they had not come, I felt
compelled to make the offer.
He smiled beautifully.
“If you would grant it, my dear Aenna, I would certainly wish
it.”
So we kissed again. It
was gentle and soft, lingering but not fiery. I was barely aroused
at all, in fact. What I did feel was a sweet warmth spreading
throughout my body as our lips slid lovingly against one another.
It had the sweet sorrow of a good-bye kiss, the pleasant
hopefulness of promised affection, and the comfort of a kiss from a
loved one. While other kisses in my life have been wonderful and
memorable, it is only that kiss that remains so vividly imprinted
upon my memory that there is no lost sense of time. To this very
day, I can still feel that kiss lingering on my lips, and it
soothes my soul in times of anguish.
* * *
Though there was a
pleasant welcome awaiting us at the palace, Kurit was not among
those who stood in wait. After brief words had been exchanged and
we went inside, I whispered sadly to Jarik, “He’s not even here to
welcome us.”
“Did you not see him on
the parlour balcony above?” Jarik asked in surprise. When I shook
my head, he said, “He stood there smiling down upon you until he
noticed that I was looking at him. He gave me a polite wave and
went inside. I suspect that he shall make an appearance before you
quite soon.”
“Then perhaps I should
make myself available to him,” I said quietly and then more loudly
added, “I shall be in my workroom. Lyenta, do please take Raelik up
to the nursery.”
“Very good, Majesty,”
said Leiset in the proper, official tone she used whenever we were
in public. “I shall attend to your belongings in your
chambers.”
“Thank you, Leiset,” I
said in my own formal tone. I turned again to Jarik and said, “You
may accompany me to my workroom if it is your wish.”
“Indeed, Majesty,” said
Jarik as he led me to the door. Once we were inside, he smiled and
said, “You do that far too well.”
“What do you mean?”
“Step into your regal
airs.” He chuckled.
I laughed. “Is it that
false?”
“No! Not to most
people. But I have long known otherwise, and I find it
amusing.”
I pretended to have a
scolding expression and said, “You mock me, Lord Jarik.”
Jarik laughed and sat
down, as did I. “I do not mock you at all, and you know it. But I
see how tense you are, and any inspiration to your laughter is a
blessed one.”
As always, he had hit
the mark. I was trembling and holding my hands tightly together to
avoid showing it. I wondered where Kurit was. I wondered when he
would come to me, or if I was expected to go to him. I wondered
what would be said, what would happen, and I was wary of every
outcome. My stomach churned, and there was an unpleasant burning in
my chest.
“Do you wish me to
leave you to your thoughts?” Jarik asked softly, and I realized I
had been staring at my hands in silence for a few moments.
“No!” I said quickly.
“Don’t go. I shall go mad if I sit here alone too long.”
“
Very well, then
I shall—” he began but stopped speaking when we heard a movement
from Kurit’s workroom. It sounded as if someone had just entered
and closed the door behind them. Jarik and I sat in still silence
for a few moments. “Aenna, are you ill?” Jarik eventually asked.
“You’ve gone quite pale.
Shall I pour you something to
steady your nerves?
”
I shook my head,
my eyes still transfixed on the door between the workrooms. “I must
keep a clear head.”
Why isn’t he coming to see me?
I wondered.
Is he even in there? Is he sitting there, waiting
for me?
“There is a water
pitcher, if you wish.”
It took me a moment to
comprehend Jarik’s words. I looked at him and shook my head again.
“No, thank you. I shall be fine. If you put a glass of anything in
my hand, I’m likely to spill it all over myself.”
We sat quietly again
for a few moments until finally there was a soft knock at the door
linking the workrooms. I rose to my feet and said, “It is unlocked.
Enter.”
The door opened slowly,
and there stood Kurit. He stepped into the room and closed the door
behind him. He looked very different than the last time I had laid
eyes upon him. His face was freshly shaved, quite a difference from
his usual scruffy, drunken chin. His skin and hair seemed more
alive than I recalled, though I could tell by the way his hair sat
upon his head that he had been running his hands through it
nervously. He was not dressed very formally, but his clothes were
new and clean. I noticed that his tunic was my favourite deep
blue.
When he looked at me
and smiled nervously, I noticed the most significant difference of
all: his eyes had become alive once more. There was no dullness, no
waver in his glance, and certainly no anger or disapproval in the
manner in which he regarded me. The clear differences in him
astounded me such that I was briefly stunned, and when he spoke it
almost startled me to hear his voice.
“Welcome home, Aenna.
And Jarik,” he said, nodding politely to each of us in turn. I
glanced to the side briefly and noticed that Jarik was standing as
well. “I trust your journey was without difficulty,” Kurit said,
sounding very diplomatic.
I looked at him and
nodded, completely unable to speak.
Just before I fell into
shame at my speechlessness, Jarik once again saved me by breaking
the awkward silence. “The journey went well, thank you.”
“Raelik is in his
nursery,” I blurted, needing to say something and not having
anything better in mind.
Kurit smiled at me
warmly. I had not seen that smile in so long that I had forgotten
it. My knees felt weak.
“And he is well also, I
trust?” Kurit asked.
“Oh, yes, he is quite
well,” I said quickly. I wondered if either of the two men were
aware of just how close I was to shaking into pieces upon the
floor.
“Then I shall see him
soon, after we’ve had a chance to speak,” Kurit said. His voice
trembled on the last few words, and his happy smile had been
replaced with the nervous one again. He turned to Jarik and
politely said, “Jarik, may I please have some time to speak with my
wife?”
Jarik looked to me to
approve the request. I nodded to him. He turned back to Kurit, gave
a polite bow, and left the room quietly.
“He protects you well,”
Kurit said, still looking at the door. His hands were clasped
behind his back as though he did not know what else to do with
them.
“Yes, he does,” I said,
feeling rather anxious to know that those words had been spoken
before. I prayed that it was not a premonition of a fight, as had
happened the last time.
Kurit turned his eyes
to me and confidently said, “He shall not have to protect you from
me again.” When he saw that I could not think of a reply, he added,
“I am still in disbelief that I could …” He hung his head and
sighed. “I cannot believe I sank to that depth.” He sighed again
and then looked at me intently. “I am sorry, Aenna. I am deeply,
entirely sorry for what I did to you. And not just for striking
you, though it is that crime that causes me the most anguish. I am
sorry for every cruel word, for every time I pushed you aside, for
every negligence and every other mistake. But you should believe
none of that.”
I was startled by his
last words. “Why not?”
“Because I’ve
apologized too many times before, and they were meaningless. You
told me so yourself, and you were right. This time the apologies
are real, but I have given you no reason to trust in that, and so
you should not. You should make me earn your trust, for I fully
intend to do so.” He pointed an open hand to the chair behind me
and said, “Sit, please. I have many things I need to try to
explain. I might have to pace about a bit, but there’s no reason
why you should remain standing.”
As he requested, I took
a seat. I noticed small beads of perspiration on his forehead,
though the room was not overly warm.
“After I left the
cottage—you did know I came to the cottage to find you?” he asked
quickly. I nodded. “Right. After I left and returned home, I went
immediately to Tash. I told him that I needed something to make me
stop needing to be drunk out of my mind at all times. He said,
‘Living.’ I sneered at him and said I wanted medication to make me
stop wanting alcohol and not flippant remarks. He said there was no
such medicine and added that he was not being flippant. He said
that my only hope was to return to the land of the living, and then
he walked away from me. I was furious. Then I cried in a most
unmanly fashion. And then I did the first truly intelligent thing I
have done since you were taken away from me: I sent an urgent
messenger to Cael and asked him to come to my aid in Endren as soon
as he could.”
Kurit sighed and ran
his hands through his hair. “It took Cael four days to arrive. So
determined was I not to take a drink during that time, I ordered
myself to be secretly locked in the dungeon until Cael came to let
me out. Officially, I was recuperating from a cold in my chambers.
Tash protested the plan, especially when I really did become ill. I
had visions of horrible things—not coherent things, but moving
shadows and hidden monstrosities that yearned to harm me in my
sleep. I was convinced for several hours one afternoon that
something was going to eat my legs. But there I remained, locked in
that cell, until Cael arrived and had me dragged out.