Beneath a Mourning Sky by Kristen Kieffer

Author:Kristen Kieffer [Kieffer, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kristen Kieffer
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

As I worked in my surgery that day, I couldn’t help but think of all the men I’d come to care for throughout my life.

My father had been the first one. In the time that I knew him, his mind had been as sharp as a well-honed dirk, and his skill as a medical scholar had made him renowned among the academic circles in the highlands. But he had been kind as well, an attentive father in the days of my youth. I remembered bouncing on his hip as a wean as he ushered me down the many aisles of the guildhall’s grand archive, introducing me to a wealth of texts I’d not yet learned how to read. But then my mother had gone to her pyre, and the light in my father’s face had faded. A shell of the man he’d once been, he had remained in Aversere until Ailis’s passing. Each day, he had withdrawn further into his academic work, leaving me to my grief and the primary care of my sister. I’d been a lass of ten at the time, shortly to come into my womanhood but still very much a child.

Then there had been Lenghan, all fire and ice, doling passion and cool displeasure in fickle doses. Anger rose within me to think of the nights I’d spent in his bed, never knowing how deeply he had betrayed me with the same power he had used to charm and entice my interest.

Lord Ulmhar, thank the Stars, had been a kinder creature. I thought fondly of the time we’d spent together on the road. Though his rambling stories had been grating at first, they had soon become a source of gaiety I hadn’t felt in years. Looking back, I suspected that Ulmhar had known how those stories would disarm my defenses. From the moment I had confessed my desire to leave the highlands behind, he’d seen me in a way that few ever had.

But as much as I was grateful for Lord Ulmhar, I’d never considered him with anything more than simple fondness. Nay, there was only one man who had truly captured my heart—and I was desperate to deny the reality of his affection.

You may lie to yourself as you please, Clìana. But do not lie to me.

Gabrián’s words echoed in my mind, stirring a flutter of panic in my chest. Unwilling to examine this unease, I threw myself into my work—just as my father had done in the wake of my mother’s death. As long days passed, I wondered whether I didn’t understand him better now, for it was a terrible thing to have found your light in someone you could not have.

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