Chained To Him [Editing]

Chapter Thirty-Nine

There was little use hiding her troubled mind from Aragon, who seemed to be constantly aware of her even while he spoke to the officer seated across from them in the narrow coach. She hid her face as she stared at the rolling grey countryside through her little window, glancing back only when his hand slipped over her knee.

"You're troubled," he said, and Jayde smiled softly back at him, aware of the way the officer, Raul, looked at them. What did he think of her, a lady turned concubine – turned escort to a lord?

"I've never left Aésadel before."

"Really?"

"Not like this." She had only ever left as a soldier, intent to die on the battlefield or return a victor. Had Aragon forgotten that she was a prisoner to his Empire for most of her life? She wondered briefly, as her mind sometimes prompted her to, what her life might have been like if she and Luc and Luther had successfully escaped that night. Would they have watched the slavery of Aésadel unfold and felt helpless to stop it, safe in the shelter of their new home and each other?

Aragon didn't press her farther, whether it was because he didn't wish to know the answer or because his officer sat at attention, she didn't know. She welcomed their muted conversation, which allowed her to gaze absentmindedly from her window and forget the other men who sat with her. She imagined briefly that she was not a prisoner but a traveler, and that these lands did not drag her farther from her home, but invited her to explore a place beyond what she knew.

The towns beyond Aésadel were different than she remembered. At one time, many of them had burned; she remembered riding this way with Luther as they pushed the Empire beyond their borders. But they had rebuilt, and the Empire had left them largely untouched, allowed people to go about their business. Did the people here know how things were in their former capitol? Perhaps it was example enough to keep them quiet, keep them open to the Empire's new rule.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, the coach finally turned from the main road as they passed through a larger town, winding down side streets flanked by Aragon's entourage until they reached an inn at the edge of town. A man stood alone at the front of the door, arms folded behind his back, while other faces peered from the windows of the tavern at the front of the inn.

It was a strange thing to be greeted by this man now, to take his hand as he helped Jayde down from the carriage. He didn't look at her, wouldn't meet her eye, and she saw that his jaw tightened when she thanked him.

"My lord," he murmured with a curt bow. "My lady."

Several officers broke away from their group to board the horses in the nearby stables, grumbling at the lack of help available. The man – the innkeeper, she learned – only glared after them and apologized that their accommodations were insufficient.

"Follow me, if you please," he said, jerking his head toward the tavern. "I expect you'll be hungry after your journey." His eyes finally met Jayde's, and she didn't know what to do with the malice there. He had every right to hate her as she trailed behind Aragon like another of his dogs. A woman who courted a monster like him would be hated, she reminded herself, but it didn't stop her from wanting to explain to him, wanting to convince him that she was on his side instead. As they entered the brightly lit tavern, Aragon sent two soldiers to watch their food being prepared. So the Empire was hated still, even if they accepted them outwardly.

A woman joined the innkeeper, brushing his arm briefly as she brought mead and bread to the table where Aragon had settled with Jayde and two other officers. Jayde longed to retire and slip away from the curious eyes of Aragon's men as well as the scattered townspeople who had fallen quiet in the room. But Aragon had sent his soldiers to inspect their rooms and the rest of the grounds. And then there was the knowledge that she would be sleeping with Aragon tonight, and she didn't know what to expect from him now. Her spirit felt drained and quiet after last night, and the knowledge weighed on her now that this is what he would expect from her in the future. Beneath the table, she felt Aragon's knee press into hers, and she glanced up quickly to offer a cautious smile. He was looking at her in the way he did when he was reading her, and she knew that he could see all the hesitation, all the weariness, on her face. But he at least seemed patient with her, perhaps realizing that she didn't know what to expect from him now. Perhaps he thought her weak to him, that if he continued to be gentle with her she would continue to warm to him. He had never seemed to understand the way he loomed in her mind, the way she never forgot each terrible thing that he did – and looking at him now she realized that he truly thought he could change the way she felt about him.