Chapter 36.3

Red indeed came back a few hours later. She knew he could have stayed out longer, but that would mean keeping her waiting. She waited for him in the large room, idly studying the map while playing with the memory crystal. He announced himself, showing that he already had learned the new knocking system. She smiled as she called for him to enter.

His eyes were filled with kindness as he gave her a kiss on her cheek. "Mo Stór. I hope you didn't wait long. How are you?" Her senses noted that he was actively using his mana, speeding up his processing of the alcohol he had consumed.

"Better, thanks to you." She truly had been grateful for his intervention. "And Fang. She asked me to bare my soul, and it actually helped. Opening up the wound, only for her, Bethan, and you, to then gently heal it. I think we're not paying her enough for all the support she provides."

"That is true. She's great at making people feel comfortable. Mind if I ask what exactly you talked about? All I could tell was that you were hurting, but there was nothing I could do, until the thing with your memories." He walked over and poured two glasses of water, offering her one. Interesting that he was serving her water instead of a drink.

She took the glass and took a sip before answering. "She asked what I was running from, wondering why I was always watching my back. So I explained. How my father died in my arms, and all I could do was order a knight to bring my mother's body closer, just so he could hold her hand in his final breaths. How I hated the Verglas estate ever since. Hated, and feared, every moment I was trapped there."

His reply was instantaneously. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, and I wish I had." She could tell from the guilt in his eyes that he had realised, now understood how and why his act to protect her had caused her hurt.

"It's fine. I might hate you for it," he flinched at those words, "but I know it was to protect me. And if you had known, you'd have been forced to use some hidden cards to chase me off to elsewhere. That would have endangered you, given you trouble with your father. There's a limit to how much is fair to have expected from you."

He reached out and took the glass from her, then put both away, so gently she barely heard them touch the table. Wordlessly he reached out and pulled her into his arms. She returned the embrace, understanding this was for both their sakes. No wonder he had wanted her to remain sober, why he had done his best to be as sober as possible right now.

As he stroked her hair, he whispered. "Fair isn't the same as acceptable, Mo Chroí. I hurt you, and maybe I really didn't have a better way, but that doesn't change the damage that I caused with the decisions that I made. You have every right to hate the things I've done, to hate me for doing them. Even if you want to forgive me, you still don't have to deny yourself the right to hate me for all the hurt I caused."

That was it. She had focused so much on mending things with him, that she had buried the pain she had felt for all those years. Trying to keep it in the past. That too she had been running from. Wanting so badly to start a new life with him, that she never had settled her feelings over the life that had been taken from them.

"I do hate you. I love you, and I am so happy to finally have you by my side again, but I do still hate you." His arms barely tensed around her, while her senses showed he was quite stable emotionally. Unfair. He had realised she was venting so fast, he didn't even feel hurt over it. She put that aside as she kept her left cheek resting on his chest, his calm heartbeat clear in her ear.

"I hate the way you left me alone just to obey your father's unreasonable demands. I hate the joyful way I awaited your return, just for it all to be for naught. I hate that you weren't there when I buried my parents. Hate that when I ordered a war we never could have won, you sided with your father, shattering every piece of my broken heart. Hate that you fought off my people and did it so honourably, not even they could pretend you were like your father." They had still hated him, but simply for the side he had chosen, not for the way he conducted himself.

"I hate how you showed your guilt so openly whenever you faced me, making me hope in vain that you might come to your senses. There were too many nights where I laid awake at night, wondering what I could possibly do to get you to join me. Hate how I had to hide everything from my subordinates, even my hatred for you, just so they wouldn't conspire to murder you no matter the cost. Hate how I wasn't even sure who I was protecting there, wasn't sure what you'd do if my people managed to push you into a corner. I hate how I needed you to just hold me, but all you did was set terms. I hate how our private meetings were but ways for you to manipulate the war, discuss who was out of line. Hate how when assassins came for me, you still didn't come yourself, didn't manage to stop them from killing my people."

Her eyes had begun blurring, yet he was still just stroking her head, squeezing just a bit tighter, no intent of stopping her. "I hate how when you finally came to me, giving me everything I wanted, you still made my heart bleed for it. Hate how you kept secret after secret even then, still protecting me from a distance, refusing to let me in. Hate how you didn't trust me to not stop your nobles from fleeing, as if a single plea from you wouldn't have been enough for me to give you everything you desired. Hate how it took but a single day for you to win my people's hearts, hate how it made me feel unfair for still holding on to the pain you had inflicted upon me."

It had been far too easy. Just a single fight shouldn't have been enough. Yet he had succeeded, so unnatural that Fang had rightfully called it out as peculiar. Eirwen too had questioned her people about it, getting answers that were both logical and illogical at the same time. They didn't even know themselves, they just did. As if his love for her was all that mattered. Her love for him. So willing to bury the past just to support their future.

"I hate how you wouldn't call my name at first, all formal in servitude. Hate how you called my name even when I didn't want you to, leaving me utterly defenceless in your presence. I hate how you kept so many secrets from me, I couldn't swallow my hatred and rage, yet you still turned out to be a victim of circumstance when I finally lashed out. Hate how you kept that painting around to torment yourself, tormenting me the same way. Hate how when I thought I finally had you again, you rejected me out of that damned guilt of yours. Hate how you thought a mere kiss would suffice to feed the longing of over five years. Hate how I wanted to devour you but couldn't, knowing you'd shatter in my arms if I held you too tightly."

He squeezed a bit more, as if to say that it was okay now. She squeezed in turn, an iron grip that he couldn't escape from even if he had wanted to. "I hate how through it all, you were always there for me, always making the right moves to help. Hate how overly eager you were to serve, how open you were, as if all those years of secrecy had never existed. Oh, I hate how you still kept your madness from me, until it was forced bare, yet how you were there to do exactly what I needed from you. Hate how you protected me not just physically but also emotionally, always there to hold me when I needed it even in my dreams, the way I had longed for you to be during that entire damnèd war. Hate how I couldn't keep you close the way I could have if you had kept your title, when the crown mocked your presence and desired to take you away from me."

She could tell that last part got to him. His hug tightened, his emotional state faltered, his heartbeat quickened. She sensed his hands clenching at the idea of losing her to outside interference. "I hate how you so easily won everyone's hearts. Hate how easily you slipped back into your war self, willing to cross every line to protect me. I hate how you commanded me and how easily I obeyed. Hate how I loved every private moment with you. Hate how you kept your distance, hate how you drew me close. Hate how you had made everyone loyal to me, willing to deny their loyalty to you just so you could protect my authority just a bit more. Hate how you still keep your theories a secret, reminding me of every secret you kept from me, every time you manipulated me for my own sake."

She drew back a bit and his hold instantly loosened. She looked up into his eyes, watching tears slowly flow down his cheeks the way they flowed down her own. "I hate how for but a moment, I could let you be someone here, only for a coward to tear that away from us. Hate having to keep you at a distance to protect your name. Hate having you still protect me all the same. I hate the weakness of my heart, the wounds that I still carry with me. I hate how I hate you, despite knowing full well that you had no choice. That any other path would have led to more suffering, to your demise or mine or that of thousands of my own. I hate how you hate yourself, still believing you don't deserve me."

She put her hands on his shoulder and gently pushed him back a bit, letting her resolve enter her eyes. "I hate having you even half a step behind me. I hate the world for trying to keep you from me. I hate how you truly believe you wouldn't have been the best ruler Flameheart ever could have had. And I am done with anyone trying to convince you so. So listen clearly, A Chuisle Mo Chroí. I will get you a name. I will get you authority. I will lift you up, no matter what it takes, to show the world you deserve to stand by my side. And not even your damnèd guilt gets to stand in our way. Until even you understand that the only place for you is with me, until the end of all."

Oh, that got close to breaking him. Her hand cupped his cheek while she pulled him closer, until their lips touched. He surrendered to the kiss, though still not ready to admit she was right. That was okay. They still had time. She'd build this fire twig by twig, slowly but surely, until nothing could resist her will. Until their flame would devour all that dared oppose her.