Chapter 43
Rorcan
The night Rorcan first met her, the winds atop the Valdare were much too merciless. They had been carried here all the way from the Northern Isles, colder than usual, to the balcony where the older Malavek prince stood, overlooking the sea.
The moon hung low by the line that separated the water from the heavens and his mother’s revel was not yet over.
He despised it of course, if anything, more than his brother. The Crown Prince Ryzen made no effort whatsoever to hide his hatred for his mother’s debauchery and merrymaking. The only difference was, Rorcan made a greater attempt at reigning in his emotions.
That is why he stood here now, alone and half hidden in shadow, no moonlight to offer him comfort and no stars in sight that would impart any wisdom.
He tried not to dwell on his brother’s whereabouts; he did not think it would do him any good to interfere in Ryzen’s own brand of debauchery; with the never-ending tales of nameless females.
His mind was lost once again in thoughts of his brother and the terrors and many secrets of his family when a voice, rough and yet soft at the same time spoke from somewhere behind him.
“It is too lovely a night to be alone,” the voice said as he turned around.
The gaze that met him was striking. So striking that he was taken aback for quite a few moments.
Hazel, Rorcan thought. A wondrous, stunning hazel.
“Yes. But I find the solitude comforting,” Rorcan answered after a moment, feeling the embarrassment creeping up his face. He moved further into the obscurity the pillars provided.
“I understand your need to get away from the party,” the woman said, her beige gown glimmering softly in the darkness. “It is a bit… loud.”
This caused Rorcan to smile.
“And the lack of light does not bother you?” It was the only thing he could think to ask.
The woman smiled softly, revealing a dimple that Rorcan found unable to tear his gaze away from.
“Isn’t there a comfort found only in darkness?”
Her response pleased Rorcan more than he could fathom.
He let his eyes drink her in from the shadows; the pale beige gown that accented her rich, colored skin, the lush brown curls that cascaded down her chest, the mole on the tip of her chin, the short yet slender fingers interlaced at her stomach. But most of all, he found it impossible to look away from the brilliance of her hazel eyes.
This was unusual for him. He had not had too many glasses of wine. And yet what was this? What was it that made him feel light on his feet all of a sudden?
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Rorcan rushed out, forcing himself to step out of the warm blanket of darkness he had inhabited. “I am Prince Rorcan Malavek of Riveria and you are?”
He held out his hand to the smiling lady.
Her smile grew wider when she said, “Oh Prince Malavek, I am going to be here for sometime. Why the hurry?”
Rorcan woke with a jolt.
For a minute, it was impossible to force the air into his lungs. For a moment, he had forgotten that he was not home; comfortably sleeping in his own chambers but in Stunngard, praying to all the stars that he was not on some wild goose chase.
And yet the dream wasn’t what caused his heart to fall to his stomach, no. It was looking around him in the cold and finding an empty room.
~
The snow under Rorcan’s feet crunched as he walked down the street with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He did not have any gloves nor a cloak to keep him warm. And he did not know where he was headed.
Stupid, he scolded himself. Stupid for having fallen asleep, for having let down his guard.
I should have been alert. What was I thinking?
But Rorcan knew what he was thinking of. He knew what his mind forced him to relive most nights.
Betrayal.
The woman Rorcan had met on that chilly night on a balcony high up the castle of Riveria was the only one he had ever cared for.
And the only one who had ever betrayed him so.
To be continued…