She shook her head again, her hand to her face. Suddenly, she was bolting off and he ran after her. He caught up with her quickly and grabbed her by both arms. After a violent struggle, she managed to loosen his grip and ended up falling in the wet grass. Her lovely hair, having been pinned behind her head, now hung askew and partially covered her face. He could see the tears dripping off her chin. The sense of knightly professionalism he took such pride in was vanished, his guard shattered. All he could feel was the pain in his heart.
“What would you have me say?” he asked in a strange, raspy tone. “Tell me what you would have me say to all of that?”
She refused to answer and he crouched down, a few feet in front of her. He still couldn’t see her face.
“Then I will say that I am sorry,” he whispered. “I lied to you. I have been doing my duty, aye, but it is more than that. It has been for several days. But it cannot be, Elizabeau, no matter what we feel or how much we feel. You are destined for greatness; I am a mere knight. You are my mission, my lady. That is all you can ever be.”
The sobs broke through and she toppled over in the grass, her hands on her face and pitiful weeping coming forth. Rhys went down on his knees beside her, his great hand stroking her head.
“Christ,” he muttered; he hated to see her so miserable. It was making him miserable. “If for one moment any of this was possible, don’t you think I would take that chance? Don’t you know that I have been thinking the same thoughts as you?”
The hands came away from her face and she looked up at him, her deep green eyes watery and red-rimmed. “Y-you have?” she hiccupped.
He smiled down at her, feeling the softness of her hair against his palm. “Of course I have,” he murmured. “How could I not? You’re sweet and beautiful and you give me joy. You are also compassionate and wise. You will make a very fine queen.”
She stared at him a moment before her face crumpled into sobs again. She suddenly sat up, throwing her arms around his neck and holding him tightly.
“I do not want to be queen,” she sobbed. “I do not want to marry a man I do not know and I do not want to spend the rest of my life fearing assassins and political cut throats. But more than that, I do not want to go the rest of my life without you. Of all the things that have happened unexpectedly to me over the past several days, you are the most unexpected. And the most heartbreaking.”
He couldn’t help himself now; he enfolded her in his massive arms, pulling her off of the wet grass and onto his thick legs. He ended up sitting on the grass with her on his lap, cradling her as one would cradle a child. She was so sweet and soft and warm against him. His lips were against her forehead when he spoke.
“It is natural that you and I would forge a special bond,” he murmured. “We have shared life and death together. But you must not confuse those feelings with those of love or romance.”
Her head snapped up, the deep green eyes suddenly angry. “Romance, is it?” she struggled to push herself off of his lap. “How dare you suggest that what I expressed to you is fleeting or shallow. I am not an idiot, du Bois. I would not have made such statements without knowing full well the implications.”
He would not let her go, instead, pulling her back down against him. “I did not mean to suggest that you were an idiot,” he soothed her. “But it would be easy to think yourself in love with me when all you really felt was a sense of admiration or misplaced loyalty.”
She yanked herself out of his arms and an open-palm came flying at him. He grabbed her, and the hand that meant to slap him, before either reached their goal. He had a good grip on her as they faced off, brilliant blue against deep, furious green.
“You said you felt the same way,” she spat. “Are you saying that you only feel a sense of admiration or misplaced loyalty?”
He pursed his lips. “Not at all. I know clearly what I am feeling. But I am also a good deal older and wiser than you are.”
“You’re not that much older!”
“I have seen thirty years. You are only eighteen.”
“How do you know that?”
“De Lohr.…”
“… told me,” she finished sarcastically.
He stared at her. Then, his grin made a weak return. “I will tell you this one time and then say no more about it,” he said quietly. “Were it within my power, Elizabeau Treveighan, I would marry you this day and we would live in happiness for the rest of our lives. But it is not within my power, nor is it within yours, so to dwell on such things is a waste of effort for the both of us. You have a great destiny to fulfill and it is my duty to see that you survive long enough to fulfill it. The greater good of England is dependent upon it and we will not disappoint. We are made of stronger things than that.”