I pressed my lips together and nodded because he was right.
He continued to study me. Then he pulled a breath in through his nose, closed his eyes and turned his head to the side and when he did this, I studied him for this was unusual for Apollo. He rarely showed emotion and the only emotion I’d ever seen him show was gentleness to me.
And, sometimes, anger.
But now he looked conflicted.
Then he opened his eyes and looked back at me.
“It is early,” he said gently, “for you, too early for such talk. For Lunwyn, however, it is not and therefore it must be said. But I have concerns, concerns I discussed with Lazarus and Ravenscroft, concerns they share.”
I felt my brows draw together as I felt a thrill up my spine. “What concerns?”
As was his way when he was with me, he continued speaking gently. “You are vulnerable, Finnie, as is your child.”
I knew this. Boy, did I know it. Therefore I nodded.
Then I reminded him, “I have Frey’s men. They will stand behind me.”
And I knew they would for Ruben told me they would, in fact, he vowed it.
“Indeed,” he agreed. “And this is an alternative for you to consider.”
I blinked.
An alternative?
“I have another choice?” I asked, sounding confused.
“I think, and Ravenscroft and Lazarus agree, that once this is done, the traitors are punished and Lunwyn is again at peace, you should wed me.”
I blinked at the same time I drew in a sharp breath but Apollo didn’t stop speaking.
“I will vow to keep you and your child safe. I will vow to stand beside you and assist as you raise him king. And he will have a brother and sister who I’ve no doubt will dote on him.”
I said nothing, just stared.
Apollo got closer, dipped his chin and held my eyes but he didn’t touch me.
Then he whispered, “We share something, you and I, something no one but us understands. I do not offer you avowals of love and I think you understand I never will. I understand I will not receive the same from you. But our union would provide stability for our country, a mother for my children, a father for your child and company for us both. If your heart was to mend in such a way that you grow to find me pleasing, then perhaps we will create our own family. If not, I will understand and I will take my attentions elsewhere.” Eyes wide in shock, I opened my mouth to speak but he shook his head and lifted a hand. “This is not for now. This is for you to consider. This is for much later. This is simply an option, Finnie, nothing more. There will be no animosity should you refuse and you leave this tent knowing, no matter what you chose, I stand behind you and always will.”
I pressed my lips together again, this time for a different reason then I let them go and forced out a heartfelt, “Thank you.”
Apollo nodded, moved slightly away and I knew by the look on his face his mind was on other things and he was done with me.
But I wasn’t done with him.
“Apollo,” I called, his eyes focused on me and then, haltingly, I asked, “Does it… I mean, I get the sense from you, um…” I stopped, his brows rose and I finished on a whisper, “It doesn’t get better does it?”
His gaze grew soft and his lids slightly lowering but I still saw the flash of pain in his eyes, the same pain I felt in my soul.
Then he whispered his reply, “No, sweet Finnie, it does not.”
I nodded. I knew that. I saw it in his eyes, felt it in my soul. I knew it.
It just sucked to have it confirmed.
Then I watched him suddenly tense, his torso twisting so he could look to the flaps of the tent and he ordered, “Remain here,” as he turned and walked to them.
I heard a restless commotion that seemed to come from all around before he made it to the flaps and then they were thrown open and Lavinia rushed in followed by Valentine.
Their eyes went to Apollo first (he was a big guy and standing in their way so they would do) then they both looked at me.
“We’re bound,” Valentine hissed, sounding pissed and worried at the same time but looking only pissed.
My body got tight.
“What?” Apollo clipped.
“We are bound,” Lavinia repeated, her eyes moving to Apollo. “The witch is close, she’s bound us. Something is –”
She didn’t finish as shouts were heard, running feet, galloping horses and Apollo turned to me.
“You and the witches, remain here. I will call Frey’s men to your guard,” he ordered then stalked quickly to a table, grabbed his sword in its scabbard and stalked even more quickly out of the tent.
Without word or movement, we all stared at the tent flaps after he left. The sound of shouting, running feet and galloping horses increased significantly within moments of his departure and this gave me a very bad feeling.
“We’re under attack,” I whispered.
“Do you think?” Valentine muttered drolly.
I glared at her; she held my glare and raised her brows.
I tore my eyes away.
Damn, shit, damn, shit, damn, shit, shit, shit.
I looked around Apollo’s tent and saw his war chests, the quiver chockfull of arrows and the bow leaning against the wall of the tent and I dashed to them.
“Finnie, what are you doing?” Lavinia asked.
“Arming myself,” I answered, dropping to my knees and throwing open a chest to rummage inside.
“The Drakkar’s men will –” Lavinia started.
But I cut her off, finding what I needed and pulling it out, I gained my feet while talking. “Frey’s men will put their lives on the line to keep ours safe. That doesn’t mean we can’t help.”
“Seoafin, I don’t think –” Valentine started but I turned to them and interrupted her too while strapping on the loaded knife belt.
“Come quickly to these chests and find a daggers of a size and heft you’re comfortable with. Don’t bother with a belt, just take the dagger,” I finished saying this to two wide-eyed witches as the noises outside grew louder, the increasingly alarmed vibe penetrated the tent and I reached for the quiver to strap it on, commanding, “Now, ladies.”
Lavinia shook her head to shake herself out of her stupor and dashed to the trunk. Valentine stared at me clearly rethinking her show of remorse and not spiriting herself home before her magic was bound again, this time during what was sounding more and more like a battle zone.
“Valentine,” I said warningly as I finished with the strap on the quiver and reached for the bow.
“Merde,” she muttered and stomped forward.
They got their daggers and we all stood by the tent flaps waiting, waiting and then freaking waiting some more for one of Frey’s men to come.
But the noise escalated outside the tent, grunts and clashes of steel, whizzing arrows, male cries of surprise or pain, galloping hooves.
None of it good.
All of it seriously, fucking scary.
Then we all jumped as a sword tore into the side of the tent and slashed through. I turned to the sword, lifting an arm to yank an arrow from my quiver, setting it to the bow and pulling back the string but the sword disappeared and we heard the ring of steel against steel.
A mishit.
I released the tension on the bow but none of the tension left my body and I turned to face the tent flaps with the arrow at the ready and it was then I realized my breathing was not steady.
Not even close.
“My princess,” Lavinia whispered, “The Drakkar’s men, they are loyal to their Drakkar and to you. If they could have come to us –”
“They will come,” I hissed, staring at the tent flaps, refusing to believe what I would have to believe if they didn’t and that was that they couldn’t and the only thing that would hold them back was something I would not think about.