Lord of War by A. F. Dery

Author:A. F. Dery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic fantasy book, clean fantasy romance, strong female protagonist, warlord romance, wizard romance, fantasy romance series, widower widow romance
Publisher: Ring Drop Press LLC
Published: 2015-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

It felt wrong for Carys to be following Sebastien back down to the cells of her own volition, but there was very little about any situation involving Sebastien that felt like any kind of right.

She still didn’t know what had come over her when she’d told him as much as she had about Eli. She hadn’t breathed a word about her husband to another living soul since she’d first demanded answers about his death nearly five years before, and then suddenly the words were pouring from her as if this man, this heathen, could understand.

But tried as she might to convince herself that he couldn’t, that he really was just an ignorant heathen, she knew she was lying to herself. She recognized the grief in him, the pain, even if he would deny it. She’d seen it on his face and in his eyes when she’d been telling him about Eli, as clear as written words on a page.

She had wanted to ask him how to move on when she was so sure that he had not managed to do any such thing himself, but somehow she’d managed to contain the words. It had pleased her to irritate Luke, but she found no satisfaction in rankling Sebastien. Her heart hurt for him in spite of his angry words.

What a cruel world we live in, she thought to herself as they walked, only half of her attention trained on Sebastien to make sure she wouldn’t lose her way. How is it even possible to “move on” from some things? As if we could forget. As if we would even want to!

Carys knew she would be diminished in some meaningful way if she ever forgot Eli. He was a part of her, a part that had shaped what she was now, for better or for worse. Surely whatever he said, Sebastien felt the same about his wife. Odd, I don’t think he ever mentioned her name, she realized.

Then they were descending the stairway, and all thoughts of their conversation fled. She was keenly aware of the fact that she was about to lay eyes on another Lyntaran and was on the cusp of betraying her country yet again.

She had acted the first time in the village in a moment of passion, but this was a colder thing, a considered and premeditated thing. The offer itself had been made on impulse, born of a bizarre and conflicted desire not to be left behind by the same inexplicable lord that she had only just been on the verge of leaving by her own choice, but the action that followed could not be so absolved. It somehow felt more important, more real, something that couldn’t be wished away or forgotten about or excused as something else. Am I throwing in my lot with Kelemir now? Why would I even want to? The Raiders betrayed my husband, but that doesn’t mean my whole country did. Have I lost my mind? Has this mage-lord cast some

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