“Not everything,” I whispered. “I love you, Tristan. I want to be here with you.”
“I should have distracted your guards and let him steal you away in his wagon,” Tristan said, his eyes blank and distant. “He fancies you – has for a long time, I think. He’d make a good husband. You could live on a farm with golden wheat fields and have golden-haired babies.” He sounded almost wistful.
“No!” Tears trickled down my face, my misery magnifying his until I felt overwhelmed.
“Under the sun, with your family. That’s where you belong.”
Every inch of me hurt. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Tristan was going to send me away because he thought that deep down it was what I wanted. He would think he was doing it for my own good, that I would be happier. But the thought of never seeing his face, or feeling the heat of his skin against mine, his lips against my lips, caused greater pain than any torturer could devise.
“I was planning on leaving them anyway, and besides…” I struggled to articulate myself. Even if ten years passed between now and the time I saw my family, they’d still be my family. They’d still love me as much and the same way as they always had. But if Tristan and I were parted for ten years? What was between us was new and fragile. Time would not leave it unscathed, and the thought of losing it broke my heart. “You’re more important to me now,” I finally said.
My words finally snapped him out of his miserable reverie, and his eyes focused on me. “You don’t mean that. The distance would diminish the bond. You’d think about us less and less until one day your time in Trollus would seem like a bad dream that left a strange mark on your hand.”
I wiped the wet streaks off my face with my sleeve and met his eyes. “And would you forget about me? Would the memory of the human girl you married and loved fade away until it seemed like she was just a bad dream?”
His eyes darkened and he looked away. “No. Never.”
“Then how can you believe I would forget?” I reached for his hands, but he pulled them off the table. “I love you, Tristan. Given the choice, I would stay. You must believe that.”
“I can’t.” His voice was so quiet I barely heard him.
“Why?” I slammed my fists down on the table. “Why can’t you believe me? Why don’t you trust me?”
“Because you’re human, Cécile. You can lie, even to yourself.”
I wrapped my arms around my torso, trying to ward off the sorrow and misery like it was the cold.
“Go, Cécile. I need to be alone. I need to think.”
The bench scraped against the ground when I pushed it back, but that was the only sound in the room. I walked to the entrance and opened the door, but it was as far as I could stand to go. From round the corner, I heard Tristan ask the tavern keeper for paper, pen, and ink. I stood frozen in place, desperate to know what he was writing. A note to put in my pocket when he shoved me in a cart destined for outside? Or something else?
“Take this to Lady Ana?s,” Tristan said, and I felt as if someone had punched me in the gut. Shutting the door softly, I hurried down the street so that the troll delivering the message wouldn’t see me. Wanted to be alone, did he? More like he didn’t want to be with me. I had to believe him when Tristan said he harbored no feelings for her, but they were still the closest of friends, and it hurt that he’d rather turn to her for comfort than me.
Wiping all evidence of tears from my face, I attempted to walk with purpose. But I had none. Instead I wandered through Trollus, doing my best to ignore the curious and often dark looks from the trolls who saw me pass and on the faces of my grumbling guards, always two paces behind. Eventually I wound up at the door of Pierre’s house. Knocking, I waited a moment, and then went in. “Pierre?”
“Lady Cécile!” The little troll rolled in on his stool, a wide grin on his face that fell away when he saw me. “What is the matter, child?” Stacks of paper lifted off the only other chair in the room and settled on the ground. “Sit, sit!”
“So sad!” He rolled next to me and took my hand, patting it gently. “I am thinking it is because of the altercation between His Highness and the human boy, am I correct? Gossip – it travels fast in Trollus.”
I nodded miserably, my heart listening to Tristan’s emotions. Misery was gone now, and in its place was grim determination. I bit my lip and tried to keep my composure. Tristan was coming this way. It wouldn’t be long now.
“Young men in love, they are all fools. Trolls and humans, it makes no difference.”
“He almost killed him, Pierre.”
The little troll’s face looked grim. “I heard as much.” He sighed. “Not a fair fight – it never is between trolls and humans. Strength from another world.”