Run-away mate

Showing her the truth

*Killian*

When she places her hand on my arm, my body reacts as though she has placed her entire naked form against me. What the devil is the matter with me to have such a strong reaction to her nearness? Blast it all, I will be going to the village this very night. I cannot stay in this residence, envisioning her in my father’s bed.

I clench my back teeth together until my jaw aches. I am not traveling that path in my mind.

Leading her into the hallway, I curse each breath that fills my nostrils, my lungs, with her jasmine fragrance. No common rose scent for her. Nothing about her is common. But still, I can’t fathom why she would marry an old man when she could have a young swain.

“I wish to apologize for my insensitivity in questioning your fertility. I didn’t mean to bring forth such devastating memories.” The pain glazing over her eyes as she talked about her son hit me like a punch to the gut. If I could go back and cut out my tongue before I began my asinine inquisition, I would.

“The boy is never far from my thoughts, Prince Killian. His death haunts me and guides my actions. Which you see is to your benefit as it makes me empathetic to your cause. I know you are striving to protect your father from someone who would take advantage of him. I assure you that I wish him no harm.” She says.

I breathe in slowly, “Still, Mrs. Goldpaw, I am flummoxed as to why you would not seek out love but would be willing to marry a man who is at least thirty-five years your senior.”

“I have known love, my prince. It provided little security. Now I am in want of security.” She says.

“How long were you married?” I ask.

She lets out a little sigh, “We were together for two years.”

“How did he die?” I can’t help asking.

She sighs. “Illness. He took a fever.”

“Again, my condolences. How long ago?” I know I should stop myself, but for some reason I can’t.

“Six months.” She peers up at me, a slight lifting to her lips. “You should ask your father to let you read our correspondence. All your questions would be answered.”

I doubt that. I suspect a lifetime would not be long enough to get the answers to the myriad questions I have about her.

“Are all the clocks in the residence broken?” she asks as we pass a tall one standing in the hallway.

I begin escorting her up a set of stairs. “As far as I know none of them are. They were all simply stopped at the hour of my birth and the moment of my mother’s passing.” Half an hour is all the time I was given to know her love.

“How did your mother die?” She asks.

“I killed her.” At the top of the stairs, I turn and face her, surprised to see horror etched over her finely formed features. Apparently my father’s correspondence to her didn’t answer all questions. “During childbirth. Why do you think he named me Killian?”

Her eyes widen slightly. “I’m sure it’s only a coincidence. He wouldn’t be that deliberately cruel to a child, to label him a killer.”

“I’m not certain cruelty was his intent. He merely wanted to ensure that neither of us would ever forget. I believe it’s important that you understand what life here at the castle entails. Let’s begin here, shall we?” Sorting through the keys on the ring, I find the one I require, slip it into the lock, turn it, and swing open the door. I sweep the cobwebs away before extending my arm toward the massive room, with its mirrored walls that stand two floors tall. “The grand salon. They hosted a magnificent ball here the Christmas before my mother died.”