Chapter 2 Marry Someone Else
1232 Words
Audrey slipped back into her home without a sound and sat motionless well past midnight.
Cassian never came.
She hadn't treated the burn. The raw sting kept her painfully alert, and she let it.
'Cassian has changed,' she thought. 'He just doesn't see it yet. A man so fastidious about cleanliness would never take a goblet straight from another woman's hand. A man who could drink a whole barrel and stay sharp would never get so "drunk" that he needed her help just to relieve himself.'
She sneered inwardly. 'And the bracelet. All it took was one casual word from Lyla, and he suddenly remembered to send it.'
She wasn't the naive girl she had been four years ago. Four years of whispers and ridicule across the city had taught her how to read people.
'But it breaks my heart,' she thought, 'that the person I need to r******w is Cassian. The one man I once trusted more than myself.'
A knock rattled the door.
She opened it to find a young squire under Cassian's command, holding out a jar of healing salve.
He reported, "General Langley had a bit too much to drink by accident. He wanted me to tell you to tend your wound properly."
'By accident,' she thought bitterly. 'How convenient.'
Her voice trembled. "Has he gone home?"
The squire nodded. "Ms. Glenn is with him. She's been at his side through every battle these past few years. You've got nothing to worry about, my lady. I'll take my leave."
Audrey murmured the words back to herself, "Every battle. Ms. Glenn." Tears slid down her cheeks before she could stop them.
She moved like a ghost, picking up the jar of salve and pouring it over the burn on her leg.
A scream tore through the manor.
Frank Harlow, Audrey's father, came stumbling through the door. The sight that met him stopped his breath. Large strips of flesh had been torn from both of Audrey's legs, and blood soaked every inch of the bed beneath her.
The ointment had not been a healing salve at all. It was a corrosive paste that ate deeper into open wounds.
They cleaned the wounds, applied antiseptic, and wrapped fresh bandages around her legs. By the time they finished, it was well past midnight.
Audrey told him everything, her voice breaking between sentences.
Frank slammed his fist against the wall, veins bulging across his knuckles. "This is outrageous! I'll kill that bastard myself!"
Audrey shook her head. "Father, don't. I've already made up my mind. I'm marrying someone else. There's no need to notify Cassian."
Frank took the betrothal contract from her hands. His eyes widened the moment he read the name.
"You want to marry the cripple from the Langley family?" he asked.
Audrey gave a firm nod. "Yes. For Mother's dying wish, I'm asking you to let me do this."
Frank exhaled a long, heavy sigh and walked out of the room without another word.
*****
The next day, around noon, Cassian finally came to see her.
Lyla fixed her gaze on Audrey's bandaged legs, eyes wide with exaggerated shock. Then she struck herself hard across the face.
She dropped to one knee before Cassian. "General, I was so flustered last night that I mixed up the medicines. I'll take twenty lashes for it."
Cassian paused for a moment before speaking. "Yesterday was chaos. You didn't do it on purpose. Audrey won't hold it against you."
Lyla pulled a silver brooch from her belt and held it out, awkwardly smiling. "Audrey, all I've ever known is war. I'm not good at this sort of thing. I made a mess of it last night, so please take this as my apology."
Audrey's voice dropped to ice. "No thanks. Keep it for yourself."
Lyla glanced down at her armor and let out a dry, self-mocking laugh. "Who am I going to wear a brooch for? Any man can smell the blood on my lance from thirty paces away. I was born for the battlefield. I'll die serving the kingdom, nothing more."
Cassian's brow furrowed. He gave her a light tap on the back of the head and scolded, "What nonsense. I'm counting on you to teach my son lance work someday."
His teasing tone carried traces of real tenderness beneath it.
Audrey noticed every bit of it. Her heart throbbed with a dull, familiar ache.
He never saw her pain, though. Instead, he asked her to bring out gowns and jewelry so they could dress Lyla up properly.
The door closed behind them. Lyla let out a cold laugh and pulled her tunic aside, revealing a jagged scar across her chest. She traced it with her finger and said, "I got this saving his life. An arrow went clean through me."
Her voice dropped lower. "He dressed the wound himself, crying like a child. One night, when he was drunk, he kissed it."
Lyla's gaze locked onto Audrey's. "I know he's bled for you, Audrey. But has he ever cried for you?"
Audrey bit her lip. She said nothing, letting Lyla rifle through the wardrobe at will.
Lyla finally pulled out a pale green gown.
Audrey screamed and lunged for it. "Not that one! My mother made it. Let go!"
Lyla wouldn't release it.
Cassian kicked the door open. His gaze was ice-cold. "Have your mother make another one. Problem solved."
He reached for the gown and tore it apart with one sharp pull.
Audrey stumbled backward, crashing into the side table. Scalding coffee splashed across her back.
Before she could cry out in pain, Lyla lowered her eyes and let out a bitter laugh. "See? Even God thinks I don't deserve this. How am I supposed to spar with you in a gown? Stop worrying about me for once. Audrey fell over there, and you didn't even bother to check on her."
Cassian looked down at Audrey, curled up on the floor, and let out a weary sigh. "How long are you going to keep this up? Do you need me to help you stand?"
He didn't understand. 'Audrey had barely bumped herself, so why was she still lying on the ground?' he wondered. 'She had always been the most composed and proper woman he knew.'
He decided this time Audrey was in the wrong. Lyla had saved his life, and he refused to let anyone make her feel unwelcome.
He turned to Lyla and spoke with conviction. "Don't ever say you're not worthy. I'll take you to buy the finest gowns and jewels myself. Suitors will be lining up at your door before you know it."
The door slammed shut behind him with a deafening bang, shattering what remained of Audrey's heart.
Warm tears fell one by one, soaking the torn fabric scattered across the floor.
That fabric was all that remained of a gown her mother, Chloe, had embroidered by hand before she passed away. In three years, Audrey had never once brought herself to wear it.
The man who had vowed to marry her still did not even know that Chloe was gone.
All those promises spoken with such conviction, all the sacrifices made in blood, all his declarations that she was the only one he would ever wed—they had faded into nothing, like a cold wind blowing in from a life that no longer existed.
- Writer
