A different memory came, something further back than the first one.
Two children, a boy and a girl, ran along a rocky beach on either side of Wynn—Nikolas—as they squealed and laughed without care. Both had blue-black hair and pale skin. And then the moment was gone.
“I don’t know exactly when it happened,” Nikolas said. “Sherie and I became ... more.”
Wynn clenched her jaw against a gasp as Shade echoed another moment to her.
She—Nikolas—was kissing the dark-haired girl, once again about sixteen or so. Wynn saw the girl’s eyes open too close to hers—to Nikolas’s—as she caught something of what he’d felt in that moment ... or perhaps something from her own past told her more of what the young sage had felt.
It was so intimate, so full of longing, and almost fearful of losing what was in that touch.
Wynn’s mind spun suddenly as two moments tangled: that of Nikolas’s memory and ...
So long ago, believing she might never see him again, she had thrown herself at Osha. She pushed that thought away to remain in control and not have to jerk her hand from Shade’s paw.
“We were too young,” Nikolas went on, “and too foolish. I was nothing ... the adopted son of a sage with no money and no title. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
The memory of him kissing Sherie went on as his hands moved down Sherie’s sides to her hips, and the passion building in the moment stirred the pain of Wynn’s own memory again.
A door opened—inside Nikolas’s memory—and shattered that reminiscence of Osha, almost to Wynn’s relief.
Standing in the open door in a wall of masoned stone was a tall middle-aged man with black hair who was dressed in a fine, dark red velvet vestment. His eyes widened in shock, and then rage spread over his angular features.
“We never thought ...” Nikolas stammered. “Then one night her father, the elder duke, walked in on us.... He found us when ...”
Wynn jerked her hand away from Shade’s paw when the memory showed a quick flash in the corner of her sight ... of a bed in that dim room. A young woman had risen in the dark, clutching a thick quilt, and that was all that covered her.
It was another moment, another hard breath, before Wynn had enough control to speak.
“Did he send you away?” she asked.
But that didn’t make sense. If Nikolas had been sent away for only this, why did he dread returning now? Certainly after years away, and with Karl now in power at the duchy, the matter was long done with.
“No.” Still looking at the ground, Nikolas shook his head. “The duke arranged a marriage for his daughter—for Sherie—to a wealthy local baron over twice her age.”
“Marriage? How old was she?”
“We were both sixteen, but among the nobles it’s normal to marry off female titled heirs at that age, to strengthen alliances and maintain ... pure bloodlines.”
Wynn felt the chill in the night sink into her. Witeny had long past given up rule by monarchy, but there were still nobles who clung to the old ways in this country.
“She and I decided to run,” Nikolas went on. “Karl was two years older and had access to money, so he wrote us letters of travel. He didn’t want Sherie—or me—to be abused that way. He helped us slip out of the keep. He was going to get us to safety and then go back. But ... somehow his father found out and came after us.”
When Nikolas’s eyes flickered, Wynn clenched her jaw again and took hold of Shade’s leg.
She—Nikolas—was running through the forest at night and holding Sherie’s hand tightly, as the younger man with blue-black hair to match his sister’s led the way. Wynn heard them—felt herself—panting with exertion. She didn’t have to imagine the fear of being caught, for she felt it.
A horse charged out of the trees ahead.
The young man in front skidded to a halt. Before Nikolas could change directions, the elder duke, with a long dagger in hand, slid from his stomping horse.
“You ungrateful viper!” he shouted at Wynn—at Nikolas. “This is your thanks for a life in my household ... to ruin my daughter’s life and bring scandal upon my family?”
As he strode straight at them, Sherie pulled away, holding out both hands.
In terror, Nikolas reached out to grab her, to try to get her behind himself. For an instant he lost sight of the old duke as he half turned his back. And then Nikolas saw Sherie’s eyes go wide as she screamed.
“Karl! No!”
Wynn—Nikolas—spun, still trying to keep Sherie back.
Karl and his father were on the ground, thrashing and struggling. At a wet, gurgling sound, the younger man scrambled backward across the forest floor. He then jumped to his feet, and his father lay prone on the ground.
“What have you done?” Sherie cried. “Karl! What have you done?”
The old duke didn’t move; his eyes—and mouth—were open and slack. The younger one, Karl, stood staring as he shuddered ... and the now-bloodied dagger was in his hand.
Wynn had to let go of Shade again to remain in the present, and Nikolas had put his hands over his face.
“When Sherie’s father caught us out there,” he whispered, “I think ... I think he meant to kill me. Karl tried to stop him and ...”
“He killed his father?” Wynn asked.
“No,” Nikolas said, shaking his head vehemently. “The old duke fell on his dagger. It was an accident.”
Wynn’s eyes fixed hard on Nikolas. In his memories she had seen only Karl rise with the dagger in his hand. What had truly happened in that moment when Nikolas’s back was turned? Any story concerning the elder duke’s death that had been told to those back in the keep would have been at least half a lie.
Nikolas appeared to truly believe it had been an accident when a son had tried to keep a father from murder.
“Everything changed,” he whispered. “It was my fault, not Karl’s. I had tried to ... would have ... ruined Sherie’s life. Karl told me to run, though Sherie wouldn’t leave with me. Only after I reached the guild of my father—well after—did I learn what he and Karl had arranged for me there. I never heard a word from Sherie since I left.”
Nikolas closed his eyes and slumped where he knelt.
“How can I face her again ... or Karl? How can I sleep in that place and eat at a table with them knowing I was the cause of it all?”
Wynn didn’t know how to answer. This tale was darker than she’d expected, even given how Nikolas reacted to being summoned home.
“Does your father love you?” she asked.
He looked up with visible shock on his face. “Of course.”
“He’ll be there—I’ll be there,” she said. “I would guess no one who knows any of this has shared the full truth of the secret, and neither will I.”
Nikolas didn’t say anything, but the tension in his shoulders appeared to ease. Then Shade whined and huffed once, and Wynn glanced aside.
Chane came toward them, possibly to help with the tents, which hadn’t been set up yet. He looked down at the three of them just sitting there.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
Wynn noticed the sky lightening to the west above them. They needed to get a shelter up for Chane.
She nodded at him and began unfolding the canvas.
If it hadn’t been for Shade, she wouldn’t have learned the whole truth even from Nikolas. Something more might have happened on his last night near the duchy’s keep. And there was no telling what had happened since then at Nikolas’s lost home.
The following night Wynn got them back on the road as soon as possible once Chane awakened at dusk. If they were indeed going to reach the duchy tonight, she did not want to arrive too late.
But the sky wasn’t even completely dark yet when Chane looked up ahead. “I can see the outskirts of a village.” As usual, he was driving the team.