His words punched through her chest like a javelin, then lodged there with barbed hooks.
“Tell me, Cristynne! How can I trust you, how can any of us trust you, huh? With all the secrets you keep!?”
“I—“ she gasped, pale with shock, dizzy.
The party stood apart, a circle council of…friends? Were they really friends anymore? They were gathered now, but all Cristyne wanted now was for the ground to swallow her. She stared across the huddle to Selene, who just as dumbstruck as she was at Andon’s demands, her eyes wide with bewilderment. Lucien crossed his arms, wincing, lips pursed and posture stiff.
Cristynne dragged her eyes back to Andon, voice frozen. He was scowling, expectant. He tapped his foot, gripped his hands. Cristynne struggled to suck in a breath, and her hands shook as she found her voice.
“I—I—“ she tried again, “H-how does this matter right n-now, w-we need to focus on the meeting—“
But Andon wasn’t having it. “It matters because you’ve been keeping secrets. It matters because those secrets could be what puts our mission at risk! It matters because we’ve been putting our neck out there, and you haven’t given us the damn time of day!”
Cristyne shook her head, quivering where she hugged her arms to her sides. He was hell-bent on getting answers to questions he already knew, answer she’d already given. Her eyes flicked between the rest of them, their gazes turned on her. She pursed her lips. “I-I’ve already told you, Andon,” she whispered past the aching knot in her throat. “It’s a personal matter that bears no relation to our quest here. Just-just let it go?” Her voice warbled, composure cracking, a quiet plea for mercy.
Mercy he apparently was not willing to give. “If I am going to lead my country I need to be able to trust my allies. And my allies need to be able to trust each other. Tell them, or I will do it for you,” he vowed.
She stared, the sting of betrayal a lancing blow that seemed to bleed her cold. At the same time, something seemed to strike her—what was going on right now? Was this really happening? A hollow laugh bubbled up from within. She felt numb. Her vision swam. A soft hand pressed into her bicep while another rested against her back. Cristyne turned her head just enough to see Selene had stepped to her side, looking at her with knowing and concern. Cristyne struggled to pull in a breath and looked up at Andon, Lucien, and Gareth. That laughed fell from her lips again.
Oh, she had thought she’d be put on trial eventually, but not by her friends.
She swallowed behind the lump in her throat and straightened. Her expression smoothed over, pale and stone-faced, a ridged and distant and stoic projection of the soldier she was supposed to be.
To the outside, to the party, she looked a if she would be sick to her stomach.
“You overstep, Andon of House Larien.” She said, sharp and hollow, clinging to the numb chill that had fallen over her. “I have secrets regarding personal matters, but they are not appropriate subjects of debate for diplomatic missions. I spoke to you alone and in confidence, and I do not appreciate your lack of tact,” she spat, “regarding those matters. If you cannot at least trust that I know how to do my job and can watch your back, then there are other things I can be doing than babysitting for the crown.”
It was like the air was sucked from the room. Cristyne pursed her lips and released a measure breath. Her eyes flicked between the faces of her companions, taking in the wide-eyed surprise, and pursed her lips. “Let’s break here,” she said. “The meeting will be tomorrow. Rest up.”
She heard only one other set of boots follow behind her as she left the meeting room, and they stopped following as Cristyne turned towards her quarters five steps down the hall.
The next morning, Selene brought the parchment note tacted to her door into the common room, where Gareth, Andon, and Lucien were finishing their preparations for the day.
At their curiosity, Selene sighed and placed the note on the center table. “Cristyne is gone,” she announced.
Selene crossed her arms and gave Andon a flat look before her gaze washed over everyone else. “She left a note. While you all try and figure out what the hell you did to her, I’m going to see what I can do to salvage…whatever this was,” she scowled and stalked off, shouldering her staff as she slipped out the door.
The rest were left to stare at the sharp, clean lines of Cristyne’s note.
“If I can’t be considered trustworthy enough, then I will leave for Lysteria.
I’m sorry to go without meeting you face to face. I received word last night from Lysandra that Caren’s forces approach from the north, and her forces require an organised hand. Since my father has also taken ill with only my younger sister to care for him, I have decided to return to grant aid and expertise.
The troops on the north front will be relying on your successful diplomacy with the Darrow Downs to provide relief. I…will be hoping for your success. You’ll all do well, I know it.
When you return, I may be willing to share those secrets you wanted so badly. And when this is all over, perhaps we will be able to travel again, without worry or suspicion.
Good luck, and goodbye for now, oh Brazen Shield. It’s been an honor.”
As she rode the cobbled and dirt roads back west, Cristyne knew she had meant it. When they returned, she’d take them to see him at the hospital.
She’d tell them about her time before they found each other; the shadow-men, the ambush, the nightmares. She’d tell them about the deal, the blackmail, the threats. The survivors guilt, self-betrayal, how much she hated herself and how much more she hated the damn badge she carried.
But her heart ached still, as though all those young wounds had split again, and the bleeding still hadn’t stopped. His words still echoed, still dug into her chest.
She didn’t know — couldn’t have known — that that wound wouldn’t heal for years. She didn’t know yet how one could feel both grief and betrayal from the same damnable friend.
Not until a letter arrived alongside the dwarven envoy, in the hands of fresh faces both shy and awed in her presence, carrying news of four tragic heroes lost to creatures of the dark.
She shouldn’t have shared her secrets with them. Not when their shadows haunt her enough to tear away every thread of connection she’s held close.
dededos
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