Mandra Read online

  Without even a glance at him, she let her head fall towards him and rest softly on his shoulder. She closed her eyes. And he sat there, unmoving.

  Chapter 15

  The days blended into each other, Isabel thought. They were all gray. All lifeless. She found herself getting more and more tired. There were days when she didn't even bother to get out of bed. Zenie would bring food to her on a tray, but she ate very little. Nole came to see her often and tried to get her interested in getting up and going outside.

  He talked about the horses, but that only reminded her of the day Devon left. He told her how beautiful the garden looked after the recent rains, but she hated the garden. With all its annoying brightness. She preferred to be where she was. In her bed with her view of the gray cloud covering the sky. An omen, she thought. It must be her time. She had given up on living.

  One day it came to her attention that she rarely got up. And when she did, she was very weak and trembly. Nole's face had grown more and more worried. Isabel's dreams grew more and more vivid. She began to live in them, instead of in the real world.

  Devon came to her in dreams often. Sometimes he held her. Sometimes he just spoke. His message seemed urgent, but she could never remember it. She'd wake and his blue eyes would fade into the daylight surrounding her. And she'd remember he had gone, and it would sadden her all over again.

  She tossed and turned one evening. She could not get comfortable. The blankets were too hot, so she threw them off. Then she got a chill. Dark images flooded her mind. Of being chased, of being knocked off her horse and into the snow. She dreamed of Devon being tortured in her father's prison. And she tossed and turned some more.

  She woke to find herself calling out. She was yelling various things and she felt hands trying to hold her steady. A cool hand pressed her forehead for a moment, then it was gone. She remembered very little after that, and seemed to sink into another world, a mystical world, where nothing was what it appeared to be.

  "Mandra!... Mandra... please wake up!" She heard this faintly in the distance. Somewhere, someone was calling her. He repeated himself occasionally. She tried to ignore it, but sometimes the words were so strong, she could not get away from them. Her eyes would open a bit and she'd see a flash. Blue eyes.

  A hand was often in hers, and when she wriggled around in feverish agony, she could feel hands holding her still. Trying to. There were just so many hands suddenly. And the voice with the blue eyes. They were always there. But she could not go back. There was a light and a warmth in this new world she had found.

  There came a time, however, when she suddenly felt the need to be free of this lovely dream world. It grew too heavy on her, like a sticky syrup. She fought against it. There was a feeling that rushed over her lately, and it didn't come from the dreams. It came from the hands and the voice. It was love. It grew stronger and it made her stronger. It's power hit her deep in her belly and gave her strength. She felt her heart warm up again with life. She felt a peace she had not felt in a long, long time. She slept soundly.

  * * *

  There was a pattering sound in her head. No, it was outside her head. What was it? It was a familiar sound. Her head ached as she began to wake up. She recognized the noise. It was a gentle rain on a window. Her window.

  She moaned and brought her hand to her throbbing head.

  "Mandra?" An urgent voice asked her.

  She tried to open her eyes, but the lids were so heavy and fixed in their place. She tried to speak but her throat was so dry. She only croaked something unintelligible, then cried because she couldn't speak.

  "Here," he said and she felt a hand lifting her head and something wet being poured into her mouth. She swallowed it eagerly. It was only water, but it made her a bit queasy.

  "My head..." she said finally.

  "I know..." said the familiar voice and a wet cool cloth was immediately placed on her forehead. "I know."

  Her eyelids had loosened up a bit and she managed to get them open. Everything was a blur before her. It was dark. Must be evening. There was an orange glow in the background, a fire probably. And there were the hands, patting her face with the cloth. And behind them, the eyes.

  Her vision became a little clearer as she blinked. There was that angelic face she had always known. The unkempt blond hair and those blue eyes. Kie's blue eyes.

  "Kie..." she whispered happily.

  "Yes," he said, glad she could recognize him. "Now don't speak anymore. I'm going to make you better."

  She nodded, and reached up to her face and took one of his cool hands in her feverish one. "Don't go," she whispered as her eyes closed again and she sunk back into sleep.

  "I won't," she heard him say as she drifted away, feeling his cool hand on her face.

  * * *

  A woman with long blond hair sat on the edge of her bed. Starlight softly lit her features, so like Isabel's. The woman put a hand on Isabel's and kindly looked into her eyes. She sat for a moment, exuding peace, saying nothing. How familiar she seemed. Then she spoke.

  "Go back to your family." That was all. She smiled and was gone. Vanished.

  At that moment Isabel woke. She looked around her room. It was the same as in the dream. Starlight from the window, darkness. She looked to the spot where the woman had sat. It seemed so real, she could still feel her presence. It was comforting. And very odd. But Isabel was too tired to ponder it all, so she rolled over to face the window, the stars, and fell asleep.

  * * *

  "Isabel..." a gentle voice said.

  She felt herself waking up in a way she hadn't in a long time. There was a crispness to every sound, every movement. To the air she breathed in as she yawned. She began to stretch her body and realized she hadn't done that in a long time. It felt good. She squeezed her eyes shut, then blinked them slowly open.

  Sitting before her with a big grin on his face was Nole. "How is my patient?" he asked her.

  "I feel better," she said hoarsely and rubbed her eyes. "I dreamed that Kie was here, Nole."

  "He is here," Nole said casually as he felt her forehead.

  Isabel was startled. "What?"

  He looked down at her a little sheepishly. "I went and found him, and brought him here." He waited for her reaction.

  "Why?" she asked, seriously confused.

  "Isabel..." He paused to search for the right words, "I didn't know if you would make it this time," he said quietly.

  "Nole, what happened?" She reached out a hand to him.

  "Later, we'll talk all about it," he said with finality. "I'm going to send Zenie for some food. Can you eat?"

  "Yes," she said absentmindedly. Why was he so worried? Was it that bad?

  Zenie came with the food and Nole helped her sit up in bed and fed her. She was too weak to feed herself. She began to realize how sick she had really been. In her dreams, everything had seemed so normal to her. The reality of it struck her hard.

  She noticed her hands were thinner and she became cold more easily. She could feel her ribs and hip bones were a little more prominent than they had been. She was afraid to see herself. Nole didn't seem alarmed anymore, so she tried not to be.

  Kie came to see her as soon as he heard she was awake. In his eyes, she saw the truth. He was making an effort to be gentle with her, not his usual joking self. He was kinder than she'd ever seen him. It made the seriousness of her condition all the more obvious.

  He talked about the weather and simple things that wouldn't upset her, as if she were a child. He held her hand as he never would have before. She missed him and felt he was holding a lot back from her. She had to know his true thoughts. This charade could not last.

  "Kie," she interrupted his lecture on the importance of keeping the blankets tucked in close around her for warmth.

  "Yes?" He recognized the sternness in her voice.

  "Why are you doing this?"

  "What am I doing?"

  "Treating
me like a child."

  He glanced over at the fire. "Come on, Mandra... you must know how it is." He walked over to the fire, still not facing her.

  "How is it?"

  He warmed his hands for a bit, then ambled back towards her with a serious look on his face. "If you could've seen yourself..." He couldn't finish. He looked down.

  She understood. "You thought I was..." She couldn't say the word 'dying', so she stopped talking.

  "Leaving us," he finished for her. "Yes, I did." He sat down without looking at her. "We all did."

  "I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't know what I had become."

  His blue eyes were on her again. "I'm glad you're back," he said with a slow smile.

  She smiled back. Then her face turned serious again. "Then you'll stay?" she asked him.

  "Yes." He took her hand again. It was a new habit, and he liked it.

  She squeezed his hand.

  * * *

  She was getting stronger and could be out of bed for a while each day. Nole carried her down to the parlor with the garden right outside its windows. Fall was coming and leaves were changing colors. The flowers were gone.

  A warm fire glowed beside her. Blankets were tucked in all around her. She stared out at the dying garden and felt for it. So beautiful and fragile in the spring, but so alive. Now it had a harshness to it, as if the garden were facing reality, as she must.

  She still ached for Devon when she thought of him. There was no word about what had happened to him. No word from him. She thought of him less and less now. Not because her love for him was fading. It would not fade. But because he wasn't there. She couldn't express her love for him. She couldn't even know if he was well or not. So she shut him out of her mind, bit by bit. And her heart closed up as he left her thoughts. It became a bit cold and vacant. There was now a hole that could never be filled by another. Only Devon. And she knew she must learn to live with that emptiness, if she were going to live at all.

  So she learned to appreciate simple things, like a warm fire or a gentle rain. She gave up all grand thoughts of passionate romance. She had enjoyed it once, had been lucky to have it, but now it was different. Life was smaller. She had her friends. They had become her new family. She had life in the castle. These were good things. She focused on them when she could.

  Still Isabel could not bring herself to do the thing she had once loved so greatly: ride horses. The stables reminded her of that dreadful day. When she was well enough to walk the grounds again, she stayed far clear of them.

  Yet a place she was now fond of visiting was the fallen tree and the lake. She had a happy memory of Devon there. And it was where she had found Kie again. She wouldn't think of the day Nole had had to drag her out of that water. She sat and watched the sun glint off the water. Watched the leaves twirl down into it. And as winter approached, watched it grow still and solid and white.

  Everyone watched her carefully, she knew. She felt their eyes on her. She noticed the gentle way they handled her. She was fine, if only they could see that. Nole was always asking how she felt. Kie was always making sure she had on enough warm layers before she went out. He still treated her like a child, but she saw the fear behind his eyes, of losing her, so she let him.

  No one really understood her. She knew this. And yet the silence and the pain were all so real. The absence. She faced it the best way she could. She let it slip away. She sat quietly, and let it fade.

  Nole had grown accustomed to keeping a watchful eye on Isabel. With the onset of winter, this did not change. Days were getting shorter and at the same time colder. Isabel grew quiet. She hardly ever laughed or smiled now and when she did laugh, it had an empty sound to it.

  She was always wandering the grounds. On foot, since the incident. He watched her from an upstairs window sometimes. He'd taken a room in the castle for the winter. Sometimes he threw on his ragged coat and followed her at a distance. She didn't seem to notice. Or mind, anyway.

  This night it was snowing softly. There was no wind, and the flakes settled so gently on the ground one could blow them apart with their breath if they wanted to. It gave the night a fairy tale feeling.

  The sky was bright with a glowing pink haze. The air was crisp, and silent. Nole watched Isabel waft into the delicate snow like a phantom. She had on her cloak and her hood was pulled up.

  He suddenly had the urge to be out in that beautiful land of white silence. He put down his book and headed for the door, but not before he made a mental note of which direction she was going. She was headed for the stables.

  As he reached the spot where she had been, he felt a sudden charge through his body. He stopped walking. How odd, he thought to himself. Pulling his coat closer around himself, he ambled toward the stables.

  Not twenty paces from them, he stopped again. There she stood in the doorway. She slowly pulled off her hood as if to get a better view. Her free hair tumbled out of it. She was unaware of this. Her hand rested on the stable door as if she were steadying herself. She stood so still, Nole was afraid to breathe, lest she should hear him. He didn't want to break this moment.

  Then she did something that made him want to kick himself for having witnessed it. She bowed her head and began to cry. Her free hand went to her face. At first they were silent tears, then she let herself go to the ground in a huddle, and cry openly. There in the doorway to the stables.

  As she did this she had turned and was almost facing him. He felt his heart leap in his chest and didn't know whether to run or wish to disappear. He had no chance to do either because she looked up.

  She stopped crying, but her eyes and cheeks still shone with her tears. She stared at him as if they shared a secret now. She didn't turn away, but tried to wipe her cheek with her mitten. She did this absentmindedly, because Nole was walking towards her.

  He felt so bad for having seen this, but all thoughts of himself went out of his head as he looked at her. He walked slowly over and helped her to her feet. She took his hand easily and didn't let it go once she was standing.

  He wanted to apologize, say that he was sorry for not leaving her alone, for seeing her like this. The words would not come, but he had never been a man of words.

  She gazed up at him trustfully, knowing it was all right if he did see her tears. He'd seen worse from her before. The look of concern on his face held her attention completely. She didn't feel the need to speak.

  He reached up to her cheek with his free hand and carefully wiped her tears away. Suddenly, as if in a daze, he let his hand cup her face. Her green eyes sparkled in the snowy light and drew him in. Like a man bewitched, he felt himself lean forward and felt his lips on hers. A tender kiss soon grew into a passionate embrace.

  Breaking them both from this daze, Isabel began to untangle herself from his arms. She was saying "no" quietly and without much conviction.

  Aware of himself again, Nole pulled himself away and put his hands on each side of her pleading face. Dear God, what was he doing? "I'm so sorry..." he said as he quickly walked away from her.

  "No..." she said as her hand slid down his arm. But he was gone. It wasn't his fault, she meant to say. It was okay, it was... she suddenly realized what they had done. What about Devon, whom she had only moments before been mourning? This was wrong. She knew it was wrong.

  She gave the stables one last guilty look before she quickly shut their doors. Her hand over her sinful lips, she hurriedly ran back to the castle, and to the safety of her room. Where she could think.

  Chapter 16

  Isabel woke suddenly and sat up in bed. Her sleep had been so light. It had been difficult to sleep at all. It hadn't bothered her that she and Nole had kissed as much as it had bothered her that she'd wanted to. And she hadn't even known it until it had happened. Until his arms were around her.

  This was so wrong, she told herself over and over again. Devon could be in her father's prison or, God willing, on his way back to her right now. He
had risked his life for her. Everything. He might never come back.

  That last thought, to her horror, helped her justify to herself what she had done. But the truth was that there was no excuse. The worst thing she could do to Devon right now was betray him this way. And she had. How could she forgive herself? And, worse, how could she forgive the way her heart leaped just now as she saw Nole stomp through the tall snow to the stables? This was madness. How could one woman divide her heart between two men?

  She hurriedly dressed and had a small breakfast. She had to keep moving. Keep herself occupied. Soon she found herself in the library.

  Reverently she touched the table where Devon had taught her chess, and recited poems with a fire in his eyes, so dramatic. She saw the window where they had first kissed.

  She sat in the chair near it and closed her eyes, imagining she was waiting for her tutor to arrive. There was a quietness to the room she had never felt so profoundly. And an emptiness to the chair closest to hers that made her heart ache. Of course, she loved Devon. It wasn't he, who was the problem. It was Nole.

  If only he had never come here. If only she'd not wanted to learn to ride. Maybe if he hadn't been there that day at the lake... none of this would've happened. Her head was spinning with these insane thoughts. She was biting her thumbnail and glaring at the floor when he spoke.

  "You never come here." It was Nole.

  She glanced up at him, startled. His quiet shoes had allowed him to surprise her. He made such an odd addition to this conservative room with his wild clothing and chaotic hair.

  He looked as though he wished he hadn't come to find her. She had been staring at him too long, too coldly, making him uncomfortable.

  "Sorry," he said finally, and turned to go.

  "Wait." She stood up slowly, not knowing what she should say. She had only meant "wait."

  He had turned to look at her. His brown eyes seemed more intense than usual, more piercing. More vulnerable. He couldn't hold the gaze and it fell to the floor.