Damask & Deception (Spellbound #2)

Chapter 16: I Should Have Known

Wild thoughts chased each other through Rhiannon's mind as Ailla nudged her to walk down the Great Hall towards her future husband.

Baudwin knows the face of Son of Deva.

It wasn't something he was even aware of. He would have thought he was fighting a random member of the Dark Disciple's forces. But if they crossed paths again, he'd remember. The face would surely be etched in Baudwin's memory just like it was in hers, as he had seen it in the moments before the tower toppled and crushed his leg. It was how Son of Deva had escaped.

She'd been there. In Messina. She'd seen it all unfold before her very eyes. Then she'd escaped the city with the Son of Deva. Leaving Baudwin trapped under that rubble.

Every step across the stone floor of the hall brought her closer to the man whose leg she might have been able to save. Now she must save his life. But how? She was his would-be executioner. If Son of Deva and the other followers of the Dark God were planning something soon, there was no way they would want someone out there who could identify him. Very few knew his face, many didn't even know that the Dark Disciple had a son. Rumours of his existence had only begun recently. He had always preferred to hide in plain sight, and someone knowing what he looked like might jeopardise whatever he had planned.

Baudwin was in more danger than she had ever realised. And it was all her fault.

It was as if a stone had lodged itself in her stomach, weighing her down, slowing her movements. As she came to stand before her soon-to-be husband, she looked up at his handsome face. He looked younger without the beard and with his hair neatly cropped. Part of her missed the more unkempt version. She definitely missed not having realised she knew him. With his beard gone, the other features of his face seemed more apparent. The high cheekbones, the angular jaw and straight nose. The soft curvature of his mouth as he smiled at her, making her remember the fervent kisses he'd bestowed upon her during their night together.

How could the Gods be so cruel?

She had tried to leave her past behind. Hiding in the swamps of Lyndor, sticking to herself other than helping the locals with minor ailments. And yet here she was, about to marry a man whose life her past choices had affected. She had made so many mistakes. Brought so much pain on so many people. Maybe she deserved this torment. But he did not. He deserved better than her. She'd known it all along. It was another reason she had never wanted this marriage. It wasn't all about not wanting them to find her. No one should have to suffer her as their wife.

With her mind occupied by tormented thoughts and memories of past misdeeds, she struggled to focus on the ceremony. Dazed, she noticed when Baudwin took her hands in his, the warmth of them comforting. She didn't deserve to feel comforted. Definitely not by him. The priest talked, but she didn't listen, her eyes on Baudwin's face as he paid attention to the words. Her entire being ached with the knowledge of what she had cost him. The daily pain. The need of a cane.

When he had first mentioned the toppling tower, she had wondered briefly, but decided the odds were so small. And yet, it was him. The man who had fought Son of Deva. She had stood at the base of that tower, watching them fight. Son of Deva and two knights. They had been so close to overpowering him when the tower fell. She would never forget the look on the knight's—no, Baudwin's—face as he pushed the other man out of the way, only to stare helplessly as the debris and rubble fell on him. Horrified, she had wanted to help, but Son of Deva had taken her arm and pulled her along.

Son of Deva. She shook her head slightly, pushing the images of him away. Baudwin noticed the movement and frowned, so she gave him a brief, dispassionate smile. Why was she playing into their fear of using his actual name? Those who even knew it were few. She was one. Devin.