The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,165

squirm at the assumption that he was no longer Vendan, but he nodded, trying to accept the acknowledgment with grace.

“And to—” I lifted my glass, trying to divert the attention from him. Heads turned my way as everyone waited to hear who or what I toasted. I looked at Rafe. It was as if he knew what I was going to say before I did. The blue ice of his eyes drilled into mine. We had to get past this. Regroup, move forward. It’s what a good soldier does.

I swallowed. “I’d like to offer congratulations to King Jaxon on his upcoming marriage. To you and your bride—I wish you a long and very happy life together.”

Rafe didn’t move, didn’t nod, didn’t say anything. Sven lifted his glass and elbowed Tavish to do the same, and soon a flurry of good wishes rippled around the table. Rafe threw back the rest of his wine and said a quiet “thank you.”

My throat was suddenly sand and I realized I didn’t truly wish them well at all and I felt small and petty and an ache bloomed in my chest. I gulped down my drink, draining my goblet.

And then we heard more footsteps.

Small, hesitant, the soft tap of slippers on stone.

Pauline.

Heads turned toward the door expectantly. But then the soft sound mysteriously stopped. Lady Adele’s brows pulled down. “Maybe I—”

Kaden pushed back his chair and stood. “Excuse me,” he said, and with no further explanation, he left the room.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

KADEN

She was sitting on a bench in the shadows of an arched passageway, the baby in her arms, her gaze lost in some distant world. Her long honey locks were neatly tucked into a netted cap, her dress reserved and buttoned, every stitch and line of it conveying propriety.

She didn’t look up as I approached. I stopped, my knees almost grazing hers.

Her gaze remained fixed on her lap. “I was on my way,” she said, “and then I realized, he doesn’t have a name. I can’t go in there without a name. You said it yourself, I need to give him a name.”

I bent down on one knee, and lifted her chin to meet my gaze. “Pauline, it doesn’t matter what I say or what anyone in there thinks. You choose a name when you’re ready.”

She studied me. Her eyes traveled over every inch of my face, her gaze restless and afraid. “I thought he loved me, Kaden. I thought I loved him. I’m afraid of making wrong choices again.” She swallowed and her restless search stopped, her gaze settling into mine. “Even when a choice feels so completely right.”

I couldn’t look away. My breath was suddenly trapped in my chest, and I was afraid of making wrong choices too. All I could see were her lips, her eyes, everywhere, only Pauline.

“Kaden,” she whispered.

My breath finally rattled free. “I guess if a choice feels right, maybe it’s best to test it first,” I said, “take it slowly, see if it can become something more … something you can be sure of.”

She nodded. “That’s what I want. Something more.”

That was what I wanted too.

I stood. “I’ll go in first. I’ll tell them you’ll be along.”

* * *

I returned to the dining room just as the next course was being served—Berdi’s fish stew. Lia had risen and walked around the table to kiss her cheek and tell her how many times she had dreamed of every morsel, every scent, every taste that was Berdi’s stew. I knew as soon as I caught the scent, that yes, it was better than Enzo’s, but then I asked everyone to hold off for just a moment. “I think I saw Pauline coming down the hallway. She should be here any moment.”

And in only seconds, she walked in. She paused, standing in the arch of the doorway, her cap pulled loose, the blanket drawn back from the baby’s head so his blond wisps showed and his little fist was free to stretch in the air.

“Hello, everyone. I’m sorry I’m late. The baby had to be fed.”

Silverware clattered somewhere in the room.

“The baby?” Lady Adele said.

“Yes, Aunt,” Pauline answered. She cleared her throat, then lifted her chin. “This is my son. Would you like to see him?”

Silence vibrated through the room. Lady Adele’s mouth hung open. “How is it possible for you to have a son?” she finally asked.

Pauline shrugged. “Oh, I got him in much the usual way.”

Her aunt looked at me and my white-blond hair and then back at