Mestlven by Jesse Teller

Author:Jesse Teller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: revenge, insanity, wizard, sword, theives, murderess, grimdark
Publisher: Jesse Teller

Malcolm grabbed her by the wrists as she turned to face him, his hands desperate and painful. “I want to give you something, Meredith, a present. I want you to have these.”

Earrings, large ruby earrings. They looked like frozen blood, and she wanted nowhere near them. “No, Malcolm, we mustn’t keep them. They are too much and we cannot afford them. Darling, you are digging us deep in debt with these gifts. You must stop.”

He grabbed her by the hair, jerking her close. His eyes flashed the face of some inner demon. “I buy what I want for my wife, whom I love. You will not tell me how to spend my own money. We are Lord and Lady of Mestlven. We are expected to live a certain—”

He looked at Meredith, his eyes traveling to her ears, where heavy gold and diamond earrings hung, to her fingers coated with rings, to the four necklaces she wore and the six brooches pinned to her dress. His eyes seemed, in that one moment, clear. He seemed to see the madness that devoured his waking and sleeping mind. His face went slack and he stared at her, his mouth open and working at finding some words to explain himself.

“I want to give this to you, Meredith, because I love you.” His mouth trembled, his eyes dancing and wild. “You would have worn it for him.” Darkness snapped back over his face. His heart closed to her and she felt alone and despised. He turned away.

“I love you, Malcolm. I am happy with you. Yes, I loved Stephen but—”

“Do not say that name to me!” he screamed.

“Stephen was your brother. Why has his name and memory become so hated that I cannot speak it to my husband, his kin? Stephen did love me, and I him. But he is gone, and I am far happier with you than I ever could have been with Stephen. He doesn’t—”

Malcolm spun at her so savagely that she pulled back, waiting for a blow. His hand jerked and she cried out. He grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her close. “I want you to wear them at the wedding. There will be no debate.”

“The wedding? What wedding?”

“De Marcon Denalet has asked me to throw a wedding for him. He has found a bride and will be taking her into his family in three moons’ time. It will be lavish and perfect. I am honored to do it.”

“A wedding will cost us too dearly. Why can’t his father or father-in-law throw his wedding? It is not our job to marry—”

“It pays a debt I hold to him.”

“You owe the Denalet family so much that you will be throwing weddings for them? Malcolm, what have you done?”

“I will hear none of it from you. Take these and add them to your jewelry. I expect to see you wearing them.”

He turned for the door and she slumped to her vanity chair. She turned her eye to the fireplace and the roaring flames that danced there.

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