Chapter 87

The first day of festivities passed without incident, and with it Odelliana’s participation in the banquet. From the second day onward she did not return to the hall.

She heard whispers, of course. The other guests, unwilling to miss their chance at basking in splendor, continued to cycle through the great chamber daily, changing into fresh silks and velvets as though the act itself were a kind of ritual. A few among them, determined to enjoy the revelry for all seven days, had even gone so far as to occupy vacant chambers within the castle, content to linger like parasites that refused to leave their host.

Her absence brought with it another consequence: Matthias, who had remained close at her side since their arrival, also refrained from attending the banquets. Instead he settled in beside her, keeping her company in the study where she barricaded herself with papers, scrolls, and endless duties.

When her throat grew dry, he placed water before her without a word. When her lips grew restless, craving distraction, he appeared with some small confection, as if anticipating her hunger before she even acknowledged it. The attentiveness was stifling. It reminded her of the days long ago at Grüsewald’s manor, when he had all but played the role of her servant. That memory was not without its tenderness, yet even so, having him so close now left her uneasy, as though something sharp and thorned were lodged in her throat.

This is unbearable.

The situation had not been part of her design. She had never accounted for such a possibility, not even in passing thought.

Matthias, in love with me? How can that be?

A creeping dread lapped at the edges of her mind. If his feelings were nothing more than the fleeting passion of youth, they might still be tolerable. But what if they were not? What if this attachment rooted itself deeper, growing into something neither of them could manage?

When she had first gone to Köbeck to find him, her desire had been simple, burning, almost desperate. She would give anything, sacrifice anything, to bring him back to her side. And indeed, she had offered him all that she could. She had meant every word when she vowed to shoulder his burdens, to lead him down a better path, to be responsible for him. That promise had been made without a single trace of falsehood.

And yet, his feelings now unsettled her all the more.

It was not that she disliked him. Far from it. But to take him as a partner—that was something altogether different. One-sided devotion could only consume them both. He might begin with desire for her body, but it would not end there. He would hunger for more—her heart, her soul, her everything. The more he received, the more he would crave, until the desire twisted out of shape and left nothing but ruin behind.

She had already seen such ruin. She knew too well what it meant for a soul to be shackled to a single person, hopelessly and destructively. She had lived it once with Jocelyn, and the memory was seared into her bones. To love without return was to rot from the inside out, to stumble through each day praying for crumbs of affection, to turn humiliation into sustenance. It was pathetic, and it was agony.

She could not allow Matthias to tread that same path. She hoped—prayed—that he would find the strength to let go.

I cannot answer your love. I cannot repay it.

She wondered if his narrow view of the world was her own doing. Had she not wrapped him too tightly in her protection? Had she not coddled him, shutting out the wider world until his vision narrowed only to her? The thought left her heavy with guilt.

A sigh slipped from her lips. She lifted her gaze. Matthias sat across from her, a book open in his hands. She could not tell what he read, but his face was calm, at ease, untroubled. Something in that serenity rankled her.

How can you be so peaceful, when I am being torn apart inside?

“You hardly ever leave my side,” she said at last.

He looked up, unbothered. “We’ve had so few chances to be together. I don’t wish to waste them.”

If not for yesterday—if not for that confession—she might have found joy in his words. She might have smiled, allowed the warmth to seep in, cherished the time they were given. But now the weight of his feelings pressed against her, impossible to ignore.

She forced her voice steady, smothering the unease clawing at her chest. Still, his presence bled into every corner of her attention, making focus impossible.

At last she rose abruptly.

“Where are you going?”

“For a walk.”

She needed air. She needed to clear her head. It was absurd—absurd that she, of all people, should feel suffocated by the presence of a pupil she had once longed to see again.

Matthias followed at once, naturally slipping into place beside her. Like a shadow, like a leech. She could not bring herself to drive him away; she did not have the heart for cruelty. So she let him accompany her, and together they stepped beyond the castle’s walls.

“What about riding?” he asked.

She blinked. “Riding?”

“You’ve learned, haven’t you?”

“Well… I suppose, but I can hardly claim to be skilled.”

“Then let me teach you today. Allow me to serve as your instructor.”

Her lips curved faintly despite herself. “So you would be my teacher for the day?”

“I imagine a pupil might instruct you better than a maid.”

The suggestion tempted her. Malena had been a competent tutor, but Matthias was a born commander, a warrior whose instincts on horseback surpassed any ordinary rider. To learn from him—there was merit in that. Even in her previous life, bound unwillingly to Jocelyn, there had been a secret yearning to stand as Matthias’s student, to follow his instruction as so many knights had once longed to do.

And riding itself was a kind of medicine. The strain of it demanded such complete attention that stray thoughts fell away, scattered like dust in the wind.

“Very well,” she said at last. “Today you shall be my master.”

He led her to the stables on the knights’ training grounds. The structure itself was vast, built to house the warhorses that carried the kingdom’s finest into battle. At his appearance the stablehands rushed forward, bowing hastily before bringing out his mount.

The horse was magnificent, massive, towering over the gentle beasts she had ridden in the past.

So tall… so powerful.

While she marveled at its form, Matthias bent his knee, offering his thigh as a step.

“Use me as a foothold,” he instructed.

He was serious about this role of instructor. She set her boot against his leg, steadying herself as she swung upward. Despite the horse’s intimidating height, she mounted with surprising ease.

“You’ve practiced more than a little, haven’t you?”

“…I nearly worked myself to death.”

A faint smile tugged his lips as he climbed up behind her.

“Now take the reins, Master.”

His arms encircled her, strong but unyielding, his chest brushing lightly against her back.

“Don’t fear accidents. Ride boldly. I will not let you fall.”

The certainty in his tone was undeniable. She exhaled, clutching the reins. The horse moved forward at a gentle pace, its gait smoother than she expected. Even so, the height of it sent her pulse racing.

“You can go faster,” Matthias murmured.

She gathered her courage and pulled on the reins. At once the horse surged forward, trading its leisurely walk for a swift gallop. The sudden force jolted her, stealing her breath. She clenched her thighs, her spine rigid as she struggled to stay steady.

Matthias’s arms tightened around her waist. His breath brushed against her ear as he whispered, “Loosen yourself. Move with the horse. The stiffer you are, the greater the chance of falling.”

Heat pooled beneath her skin. His touch was familiar, and yet—now it carried a different weight, a different meaning. She tried to obey, to ease her body into rhythm with the mount’s movement, but tension only seized her further.

Did he notice? Did he understand the turmoil twisting through her? If he did, he gave no sign. Instead, his hold grew firmer, pressing her against him with a persistence that betrayed his intent. She heard him chuckle, low and amused.

She turned, indignant. His handsome face filled her vision, his smile too satisfied.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re adorable when you’re tense.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re mocking me.”

“Never. Haven’t we touched no less closely before? Yet today, you bristle like this. Curious, isn’t it?”

The words struck true. Her lips pressed together in silence. He laughed again, delighted.

“Relax. I won’t devour you. Look around you, instead.”

Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze. The forest spread wide before them, verdant and endless, sunlight filtering through the canopy in fractured beams. Her breath caught at its beauty.

So beautiful… how did I ever grow tired of this sight?

Matthias guided her, correcting her posture, steadying her whenever she faltered. He needed no reins; his control over the beast was absolute. It was as though the horse itself bent to his will.

“You ride well,” he praised. “With practice, you’ll manage alone.”

“In this body?” she asked bitterly.

“Of course. Skill is less important than harmony. Beast or human, it is always about trust.”

The words carried weight, but she brushed past them, choosing instead to savor the rush of wind against her skin. The speed, the movement, the open air—it burned away her troubles. Her muscles ached, her thighs throbbed, her seat smarted with pain, and yet she felt alive in a way she had not in years.

They rode until the sun dipped low, until the sky painted itself in hues of gold and crimson. She returned to the castle flushed and exhilarated, her spirit lighter than it had been in days.

But the relief did not last. Malena awaited her, worry etched deep into her features.

“My lady, where have you been?”

“Out riding. Why? What has happened?”

Malena swallowed, hesitating. “The banquet… it must end at once.”

Her brows knit. “Why?”

“A dispatch arrived. Urgent, from Anatolia.”

Cold dread crept through her veins. “Tell me.”

“The barbarians have raised an army. They’ve breached Anatolia’s gates and begun slaughtering the civilians.”

Her face blanched, the light of her earlier joy snuffed out.

The campaign against the tribes had begun—far earlier than it had in her previous life.