Thor’s heart broke as he watched Gwendolyn try to jump into the grave with her father. As Reese held her back, attendants came forward and began shoveling the mound of dirt into the pit, while Argon continued his ceremonial chanting. A cloud passed in the sky, blotting out the sun for a moment, and Thor felt a cold wind whip through on this warm summer day. He heard a whining, and looked down and saw Krohn at his feet, looking up.
Thor hardly knew what would become of anything anymore, but he knew one thing: he had to talk to Gwen. He had to tell her how sorry he was, tell her how distraught he was, too, over her father’s death, tell her that she was not alone. Even if she decided to never see him again, he had to let her know that he had been falsely accused, that he hadn’t done anything in that brothel. He needed a chance, just one chance, to set the record straight, before she dismissed him for good.
As the final shovelful of dirt was thrown on the king and the bells tolled again and again, finally, the crowd rearranged itself: rows of people stretched as far as Thor could see, winding their way along the cliff, each holding a single black rose, lining up to pass the fresh mound of dirt that marked the king’s grave. Thor stepped forward, knelt down, and placed his rose on the already growing pile. Krohn whined.
As the crowd began to disperse, people milling about in every direction, Thor noticed Gwendolyn break free from Reese’s grip and run, hysterical, away from the grave.
“Gwen!” Reese called out after her.
But she was inconsolable. She cut through the thick mob and ran down a dirt trail along the cliff’s edge. Thor could not stand to see her like that; he had to try to speak with her.
Thor burst through the crowd himself, Krohn at his heels, weaving this way and that as the crowd grew thick, trying to follow her trail, to catch up with her. Finally, he broke free from the outskirts and spotted her running, far away from the others.
“Gwendolyn!” he screamed out.
She kept running, and Thor chased after her, running double speed, Krohn yelping alongside him. Thor ran faster and faster, until his lungs burned, and finally, he managed to close the gap between them.
He grabbed one of her arms, stopping her.
She wheeled, her eyes red, flooded with tears, her long hair clinging to her cheeks, and threw his hand off.
“Leave me be!” she screamed. “I don’t want to see you! Ever again!”
“Gwendolyn,” Thor pleaded, “I did not kill your father. I had nothing to do with his death. He said so himself. Don’t you realize that? I was trying to save him, not to hurt him.”
She tried to flee, but he held her wrist and did not let her go. He could not let her go—not this time. She struggled against him, but did not try to run anymore. She was too busy, weeping.
“I know you didn’t kill him,” she said. “But that doesn’t make you any better. How dare you come and try to speak with me after you humiliated me in front of all the others? Especially now, of all times.”
“But you don’t understand. I didn’t do anything at that brothel. It was all lies. None of it is true. Someone is trying to slander me.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“So then are you telling me you did not go to that brothel?”
Thor hesitated, unsure what to say.
“I did. I went with all the others.”
“And are you saying you did not enter a room with some strange woman?”
Thor looked down, embarrassed, unsure how to respond.
“I suppose I did, but—”
“No buts,” she interrupted. “You admit it then. You’re disgusting. I want nothing more to do with you.”
Her face transformed from distraught to furious. She stopped her crying, as her expression changed to one of rage. She got very calm, got close to him, and said.
“I never want to see your face. Never again. Do you understand me? I don’t know what I was thinking to spend any time with you at all. My mother was right. You are just a commoner. You are beneath me.”
Her words stung him to his very soul. He felt as if he’d been stabbed.
He let go of her wrist, took several steps back. Perhaps Alton had been right after all. Perhaps he had just been another plaything for her.
He turned without another word and headed away from her, Krohn at his side, and for the first time since he had arrived, he wondered if there were anything left for him here.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gwendolyn stood there, at the edge of the cliff, watching Thor walk away, and feeling more torn apart by anguish than she ever had. First her father; now Thor. It was a day unlike any she had ever had. She could not even describe the unfathomable grief that tore her part at the thought of her father being dead. Dead by some assassin’s hand, taken away from her without even a moment’s notice. It just wasn’t fair. He was the light of her life, and some stranger had taken him away from her for good.
When Gwen had discovered the news, she had wanted to die herself. Last night had been like one long nightmare, and this morning, like the peak of it. As his body went into the earth, she had wanted to leap in with him, and never come out.
When Gwen burst from the crowd, she had even been thinking about jumping over the edge of the cliff herself. Until Thor arrived.
Seeing him, in some strange way, snapped her out of it, had made things better, had taken her mind off her father—although in another way, it had also made things far worse. She was still furious with him, still burned with anger for his making a fool of her in that brothel. She had taken a chance by being with a commoner, and he had proved everyone right about her recklessness. Including her mother. She felt shamed beyond what she could imagine.
And now the gall of him, to show up here, to try to make things right, while he himself admitted that he had been there, with that woman. The thought of it was enough to make her sick.
As she watched Thor hurry off, down the trail, away from the cliff, Krohn beside him, despite herself she felt a sense of longing, of despair; she wondered how things could get any worse. She looked out over the endless expanse, over the dips and valleys of the Kolvian Cliffs, looking westward over the kingdom. She knew that somewhere, farther than she could see, lay the Highlands, and beyond that the McCloud’s kingdom. She wondered if her sister was already over there, with her new husband, if she were enjoying her life. She was lucky to be far from here.
But then again, her sister had never been that close with their father, and she wondered if she would even care if she heard news of his demise. She, Gwen, of all of them, had been the closest to him. Reese and Kendrick had been close, too, and she could see how hard it hit them. Godfrey had hated their father, though now, looking at him, she was surprised to see his upset, too. And then there was Gareth. He still looked as cold and emotionless as ever, even with their father’s death. He had looked preoccupied. As if his eyes were already on the power he so desperately wanted to seize.