Of course, the way he looked was an accurate reflection of who he was inside--a man I could never trust not to treat me like he owned me, the same way Bernard did. After all the emotional pain of leaving Bernard, I would never run right into the arms of someone even worse.
“Well, I’ve never felt as strongly about anything either.”
He smiled a little, showing off the edges of his fangs. “So it will be a test of our wills. I expect you will give me a challenge. In fact, I hope you will, as I do not want a meek bride, and I’m sure you want a husband who is willing to prove his affections.”
“I already have someone who’s proved his affections! Please leave me alone," I said. "If you want to show me that you care, at least let me see Bevan while I'm sick."
"I am here to tend to your every need.”
"Then, I need Bevan."
“The fae queen asked that we should tend to you in turns.”
"What? We're not in the faery palace, are we?"
"We are."
I looked at the room with fresh eyes. Now the warm feel of the plants by the window and the natural decor made sense, and I took a moment to appreciate that my life would lead me to such interesting and beautiful places after so many years of confinement.
"If the queen considers you an enemy, then why are you alone with me?" I asked.
“Well….I like to think she recognizes my devotions and senses the destiny between us,” he said. “Although—“
Suddenly I just felt completely irritated with this stubborn man who insisted I was going to love him instead of Bevan. "I'm done with people who tell me who I should be," I said. "Please go away or--or I'll throw this water at your face."
His lips twitched. I think he wanted to laugh. "If you are that angry, you should just do it and not warn the victim first."
"Uhh..." He was right. I should have just done it. Maybe if I'd been more firm with Bernard I wouldn't have become Jenny.
He took my water and threw it at his own face. ”See? As you wish, my lady, I will go."
I was so exhausted as he left that I thought I might slip back into unconsciousness, but I was also hungry and I had that dull, sick feeling that only happens when you oversleep. I should have asked him for some food before he left...
I also wished I had asked him if his horses were okay. Maybe I was still upset at him, but I was sorry I hadn't checked on his horses.
I hate being sick. I would love to see what the faery kitchens look like and see what special pastries are only made here... Bevan and I could visit the bakeries and patisseries, if faeries have such things, but they must!
In fact, I'd be very disappointed if faeries didn't have the best bakeries in all the realms.
As I was losing myself in a delirium of tarts and cakes and cream, the door opened again and a fair-haired man walked into the room.
My heart suddenly leapt with fear as I placed him. "What--what are you doing here!?" I barely sputtered out the words before I choked on them and started coughing with an awful dry cough.
"It's me--Piers," he said, taking the cup Variel left empty and quickly filling it for me. “Go on and drink; that won’t do. Variel asked me to take care of you."
"But--you're Piers? You were at the fight with Bernard! I didn't realize you were that same man! You led the attack on the familiars when I was staying with Helena! You were trying to get the Way of Paths!"
He glanced away from me pensively. "I told you I knew Bernard," he said.
"You didn't really tell me that exactly."
"I didn't connect you with that evening either," he said.
"This is too much..."
"Jenny, right now, all that matters is that you get proper rest and are able to fight another day." I knew he meant that metaphorically, because I wasn't a fighter, but seeing him now, I guessed that was where his mind always lived--in a world of fighting and struggles for power. He had a very military bearing, arrow-straight and controlled. His clothing was stained but it looked like he had tried to clean up to see me. The face, I remembered all too well now--short blonde hair that was brushed back but getting a little long and falling out of place in every direction, cold blue eyes the color of ice, burn scars marring one side of his face from temple to cheek.
"If you're well enough to speak, you'd probably better eat something," he said.
"I am hungry." I knew the avornax I had fed under the cabinet probably was going to turn into some villainous character, based on all I'd heard of him from Bevan, but I wasn't sure to make of him anyway. He certainly wasn't what I'd call friendly, but his formal distance was easier to deal with than Variel's fervent attempt to convince me that I'd marry him whether I liked it or not.
Piers ladled out some soup from a pot in the corner that was hanging over a low fire to keep it warm. He only used his right hand, while he kept the left tucked in his jacket.
"Are you injured?"
"Variel ate my hand," he said.
"Ate it!?"
"I suppose 'devoured' is the proper term."
"You weren't injured before! When? Why?"
"Apparently I was whole when he gave me a different body, but not now.” Piers took the chair, but he still kept a good five feet between us. He took a pained breath and looked at me. "Jenny, I'm sorry. You were very generous and I would have starved to death without you."
"Oh--well--it was nothing." I spilled a little soup on the blankets. I needed to sit up straighter and struggled to support myself on shaky arms.
"Here, if you don't mind..." Piers took the spoon from me and brought it to my mouth.
"You don't have to be nice to me. Piers, you know I love Bevan. I really want to see him."
"Bevan sat here with you for eight hours while you were unconscious," Piers said. "He's taking a quick rest."
"Oh..."
"Can I ask you a question?" Piers asked, after feeding me a few bites of the rich, sweet vegetable broth with bits of grain and root vegetables. (Lots of leeks in the broth, I thought.)
"Sure..."
"If Bernard came to you and apologized for all the ways he had ever mistreated you, if he acknowledged that he'd made a terrible mistake and swore to give you the life of an honored familiar with access to all the magic you'd ever need...would you return to him?"
I shivered at the question as I realized I couldn't answer right away. "I...I would certainly rather marry Bevan and work alongside him."
"But your loyalty to Bernard still has some hold on you..."
"I guess I can't help it." I bit my lip, ashamed by my weakness. "No matter how much he hurt me, I really do want..." I almost felt close to tears, knowing how much happier I was with Bevan, and hating that even a little part of me felt a pull to go back to Bernard.
"I see..." Piers almost seemed to be saying it to himself. He kept giving me the soup, and I really was hungry, so I couldn't stop drinking the broth. At the end of the bowl, he finally met my eyes, and the cold eyes softened slightly. He looked like he had a lot of regrets weighing him down, and I realized I wished Bernard would look at me this way. As if he really was sorry, and wasn't ashamed to say so, and we could rebuild the relationship we had as Bernard and Celeste.