fast as the dancers, Pearl amongst them. On the one hand, I was grateful to be out of the dungeon and walking around after a week of immobility. I was also relieved I could continue with my Testing.
However, another part of me wondered if I’d failed at my Testing after all, by allowing all of this to happen. I never should have gotten captured in the first place. If I’d been more careful and alert, I’d still be ensconced in Blade’s camp, analyzing inner motivations of people and learning more about the human condition as a result. If I’d been more strategic, I would have discovered a way to escape from the dungeon without having to use Pearl. And if I’d been wiser, I would have been able to find a way out of marrying her.
As it was, in spite of my mistakes, I needed to move forward, attempt to redeem myself, and work harder at my Testing. That’s what a good leader did. Learn and grow and do better the next time.
By the time people began to nod off, the stars had grown dim and dawn was fast approaching. Nevertheless, a rowdy group of revelers decided to usher us to Pearl’s cave that would evidently be my home for the duration of my stay on the island.
Singing at the top of their voices, the group pushed Pearl and me inside the cave and then slammed the door shut behind us. For several minutes, the teasing and songs continued until they faded into yawns and footsteps drifted away.
A strange silence descended within the cave. Pearl stood by the door, facing it, her back stiff. I allowed myself to take stock of her home, noting that it felt homier than Irontooth’s. Her furnishings consisted of a sleeping mat with a thick fur blanket, a table and benches made of rocks and boards hewn from the forest, crocks and clay jars, a braided wall hanging, as well as several woven mats surrounding a small fire pit.
“You have crafted a welcoming home,” I offered, knowing I needed to put her at ease.
She turned, then, to face me, her eyes flashing with censure. “You must know I am not welcoming you here willingly.”
The words had their intended effect. They stung me. But what could I expect? She’d been trapped into marriage to a man she didn’t like or know.
She sighed, her breath laced with weariness. “Forgive me. You are not to blame for what has happened. I brought this upon myself.”
“I am responsible too.” My mind returned to all the things I might have done differently if I’d been a better man. Perhaps Vilmar was the best candidate for king after all. Perhaps this time on the island was laying bare my weaknesses and showing me the truth about myself in a way I’d never before seen.
She crossed to the fire and added another log to the low flames.
“I shouldn’t have considered using your friendship to help me gain my freedom. I was selfish and calloused to do so.”
“’Twas indeed selfish.” She poked at the wood, sending sparks into the air.
“I apologize and pray that with time, you’ll be able to forgive me.”
She tossed in dry brush, and the flames leapt higher. “I likely would have done the same if our situations had been reversed.”
“Then you accept my contrition?”
“I shall, eventually.”
“Thank you.” As I stared at the flames, the crackling and warmth of the fire made me drowsy. And yet I needed to persist in making peace with this woman—who was now my wife. “I would have enjoyed the friendship with you even if our situations had been reversed.”
My statement had the desired effect. She lifted her eyes to mine, the comely green revealing vulnerability—the same vulnerability I’d seen from time to time during the past week.
“And I would have aided you and Ruby even if we weren’t man and wife.”
Her eyes flashed with uncertainty, and I guessed she wanted to believe me. But she didn’t trust me. Perhaps trust was something one could only earn with time and repeated efforts.
She glanced back to the fire. “I did not trap you into marriage for myself. I did it for Ruby.”
“I understand.” I prayed my father and the Lagting would understand too.
She was silent a moment before speaking in a low voice. “When Ruby and I are safe from the queen, I would not oppose you if you gave me an annulment. If we remain silent about our marriage, perhaps no one need know about