CHAPTER 99: CHAPTER NINETY NINE

"What?" Carcel asked.

The word was barely a whisper. It was a breath of pure disbelief. He looked as if she had just spoken in a language he did not understand.

Ines clasped her hands tighter together, her knuckles aching. She had to say it again. She had to be strong for both of them.

"Let’s not..." she stammered, her voice trembling just a little. She took a breath and forced herself to be firm. "Let’s not go through with the marriage."

Carcel closed his eyes. He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture of profound, weary frustration. He looked like a man trying to wake himself up from a very bad dream.

"I don’t understand," he said, his voice tight. "I don’t understand why you are saying this. Everything was... everything was settled."

"Our marriage," Ines said, looking at the floor because she couldn’t bear to look at his hurt face, "won’t have love. I... I don’t think it’s right. You deserve better than a trap, Carcel. You deserve freedom."

Carcel dropped his hand. He stared at her, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp anger.

"If you don’t care about me," he said, his voice rising, "what about yourself? What about your honor, Ines? What about your reputation?"

He took a step toward her, his body radiating a tense energy.

"You know what happens if we call off the engagement, right?" he demanded. "You know what the ton will say. They will say I ruined you and left. They will say you were found wanting. You will be an outcast. You will never marry. Is that what you want?"

Ines looked up. Her eyes were wet, but her chin was high.

"Yes," she replied, her voice steady. "I know what will happen. I have thought about it every night for a month. And I am ready to face it."

Carcel’s anger seemed to drain away, leaving him empty. His face crumpled. He looked suddenly young, and very, very sad.

"Even so," he whispered, his voice cracking. "You dislike me that much? You dislike me so much that you would rather be ruined... you would rather face the scorn of the entire world... than be my wife?"

He looked at her, searching for the truth in her hazel eyes.

"Do you dislike me that much, Ines?"

Ines’s heart twisted. "No!" she cried. "I don’t dislike you in any way. How could I?"

Carcel just looked at her. He didn’t believe her. How could he? She was pushing him away.

He turned his head slightly, looking toward the window where the rain had finally stopped.

Every morning, he thought, a bitter ache spreading through his chest. Every single morning for a month, I woke up and ran to the mirror.

He remembered the ritual. He would light the lamp and inspect his face. He would check the purple bruise on his eyelid. He would check the redness in the white of his eye.

I checked my eyes until finally, the redness was gone today, he recalled.

He had felt such joy this morning. He had seen his own face, healed and whole, and he had thought: I can go to her. I can finally go to her.

I couldn’t even wait any longer, he thought, his hand clenching at his side. I didn’t eat breakfast. I didn’t shave properly. I came here in a hurry, without notice.

He looked at Ines, standing there in her blue dress, looking so beautiful and so distant.

Why would I even need to send notice? his mind argued. Visiting my fiancée’s home is perfectly normal. It is my right. I thought she would be happy.

He remembered the moment he walked into the library. He remembered seeing her enter.

When I saw her as she entered the library, he thought, a wave of longing crashing over him, I was sure. I was absolutely certain that deciding to marry her is the best decision I have ever made.

His mind conjured the future he had been building in his head during those long, lonely, rainy days in his empty manor.

I could kiss her whenever I wanted, he thought. Not in secret. Not in the dark. In the sunlight. In the park. In front of Rowan.

I would sleep beside her, he imagined. No more lonely nights. I would wake up to see her face first thing in the morning. I would see her messy hair and her sleepy eyes.

I would lie on her lap, he thought, the image so sweet it hurt, as she reads her novels to me. I would listen to her voice. I would teach her whatever she needed for her novel, freely, without a second thought. I would be her male lead.

I would spend the rest of my life with her.

He looked at her now. She was telling him to leave. She was telling him it was over.

Hearing her canceling the engagement, he thought, feeling a physical pain in his chest, ripped my heart out.

He couldn’t let her see how much he was bleeding. He had to be strong. He had to convince her.

Carcel spoke, trying to hide his hurt behind a wall of logic.

"Is love really important right now?" he asked, his voice rough. "People marry for land. For titles. For peace. If we respect each other... isn’t that enough? Love will naturally fall into place. We are friends, Ines. That is a good start."

Ines shook her head sadly. "It’s not that simple, Carcel. You don’t understand. I want... I want more for you."

Carcel hardened his jaw. He was done with logic. He was done with being noble.

"We decided to get married," he said, his voice firm and unyielding. "And we will."

Ines looked at him, frustrated. "Why?" she asked, her voice rising. "Why are you insisting on this marriage? You can walk away! You can be free! Why do you want to chain yourself to me?"

Carcel didn’t answer immediately. He started to walk.

He took a slow, deliberate step toward her. Then another. He was closing the distance between them, shrinking the world down until it was just the two of them.

"Do you know," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "how I’ve held back?"

He took another step. Ines held her ground, though her heart was hammering.

"Do you know how many times I have wanted to kiss those lips?" he asked. "Countless times. For a month. Even when my eye was swollen shut. Even when I was angry. I wanted to kiss you."

He was close now. Too close. He was invading her space, his presence overwhelming.

"And with those lips," he whispered, his gaze dropping to her mouth, "you hurt me, Ines. You used those lips to break off our engagement. You used them to tell me to leave."

He stopped right in front of her. He towered over her. He looked down, his eyes burning with a fire that terrified and thrilled her.

"You think I’ll let you go?" he asked.

He shook his head slowly.

"Never!"

The word was a vow. It was a shout. It was a command.

"I’m so in love with you," he said, the truth finally, explosively, pouring out of him, "that I’m never going to let you go."

He didn’t wait for her to process the words. He didn’t wait for her to argue.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms.

He hugged her. It was a fierce, desperate, crushing embrace. He buried his face in her neck, holding her as if she were the only solid thing in a crumbling world.

Ines stood frozen in his arms. Her eyes widened in unadulterated shock.

Love?

Her mind spun. The word echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of her doubt.

He... he loves me?

Not duty? Not honor? Not pity?

Love.

He loved her. The man she had written stories about. The man she had yearned for. He loved her.

As Carcel broke the hug, pulling back just enough to look at her face, Ines tried to speak. She tried to ask him if it was true. She tried to tell him that she loved him too.

"Carc..." she started.

But Carcel didn’t want words. He had had enough of words. Words had almost ruined them.

He silenced her.

He crashed his lips onto hers, kissing her with all the pent-up longing, all the frustration, and all the undeniable, overwhelming love he had been holding inside.