The Reckless Oath We Made - Bryn Greenwood Page 0,93
fair fight between two knights.
Yvain didn’t really get into trouble until he broke his promise to Laudine. By that point, she’d gotten over her dead husband and married Yvain, even though he was the knight who’d killed her husband. Yvain was madly in love with Laudine, but he wanted to go off and have adventures with Sir Gawain and King Arthur. So he promised his wife that he would come back before a year and a day.
“Oh, Yvain,” I whispered, because I knew he was going to fuck up. I wasn’t even halfway through the book, so no way was he going to get back to Laudine on time. It reminded me of my mom and dad. The day Dad was sentenced, he’d promised he was coming back. Swore it up and down, even though he wasn’t going to be eligible for parole for twenty years. It didn’t work out. He never made it back, and I didn’t think Yvain would, either.
I knew someone was downstairs but not who, until I heard Uncle Alva coughing. He sounded bad, and it made me wonder what kind of appointment he’d had that morning. After a few minutes, Dane raised his voice, and then Uncle Alva raised his. That went on until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I closed the book and got up. I went out to the stairs, trying to be as quiet as I could on those creaky old floors.
“You was gone for six fucking years!” Dane was saying.
More back and forth, and then Uncle Alva’s voice rose up all wobbly, old-man angry: “It was my fault that all gone south! I’m the one shot that goddamn bank guard!”
I’d been standing about halfway down the stairs, but I had to sit down. I could barely breathe, and my skin felt tight all over. Almost my whole life I’d believed my father was a murderer, that he’d killed some poor rent-a-cop who was just doing his job. I’d spent years trying to make that balance out against all the good things I knew about Dad. Like the fact that he’d robbed a bank to try to get decent medical care for his sister-in-law, who was dying of cancer.
Except he wasn’t a killer. That was a lie. He’d confessed to it to save Uncle Alva, and he’d let me and LaReigne and Mom carry that lie around all those years. There was no way Mom knew, because she couldn’t keep a secret for shit. Even after his liver crapped out and he knew he was dying, Dad had kept that from us to protect Uncle Alva.
Dane came stomping through the front room, right past the foot of the stairs. I didn’t want him to see me, to know I’d been listening, but I couldn’t stand up. It didn’t matter, because he went straight through the dining room and never even glanced at me. After he was gone, Uncle Alva started coughing again. I grabbed the railing and pulled myself up.
I went upstairs and laid on the bed next to Gentry. The whole room felt like it was spinning, that was how much my world had changed. I laid as still as I could, but maybe my heart was beating so hard it woke Gentry up.
“My lady,” he said in a groggy voice.
“Will you put your arm around me?” It was easier for him to touch me than to let me touch him. I rolled over on my side with my back to him and, after a minute, he put his hand on my waist. That was enough to hold me together.
We were like that for an hour, maybe longer. Long enough that my shirt, between my side and Gentry’s palm, got damp with sweat. Then I heard someone coming up the stairs.
I slid off the bed and went across the room to where my backpack was sitting on the dresser. I unzipped the side pocket, to feel where the gun was. Gentry must have heard the creak of the stairs or sensed something else, because he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He cocked his head to the right, listening.
“Zhorzha?” Uncle Alva said. “You awake, girl?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” I took my hand out of the backpack, and left the gun there.
“Just thought we might could have that talk.”
That talk. I opened the door far enough to look out at him.