Chapter 5 Promises

I cleared my throat and schooled my features into a mask of cool composure, one that even she would have to be proud of.

"I'm doing better, don't you think?" I said, holding up my work.

In all honesty, the delicate stitches were nothing to gloat about compared to the work of a professional seamstress, but they were strait and evenly placed, well and truly good enough for one of my rank, and for a small child to wear with pride.

She snorted. "More like dreaming over one those boys down there. Well don't get your head caught too high in the clouds, for you'll end up with none of them in the end."

I frowned but kept my silence.

She let out an exasperated sigh and stood, making her way over to the generously sized window, sided by two tapestries of silver haired winged folk in gossamer fine gowns, the type of magical creature a mother spoke of when settling their child into sleep.

My own mother, long gone from this world had made them. It had taken her years to complete the matching set and when she had, they'd been hung here, forming a perfect frame for the view beyond our protective walls, a view filled by a giant sloping gulley, its carpet of thick green pocketed by nothing but bright wildflowers of yellow, blue and purple that appeared to grow thicker with their proximity to the silver lake, coiling through its centre.

My aunt leant forward as much as she dared, angling her view so she could stare down her nose and inspect the five males below.

"Either it's one of those two stable hands or that wretch your father treats as family," she said after a moment of intense study.

Her words hit me like a slap across the face, but I forced myself to breathe and keep my face still. If she found out, if she caught even the slightest whiff of what Raff and I felt for each other...

She nodded to herself, muttering something I couldn't quite hear.

"I beg your pardon Aunt Caroline?"

She turned her green eyes on me. "I thought it odd, that the entire time he stayed with us he never indulged himself in any of the serving girls. Not one. And they wanted him alright, though it's beyond me why. Still, it makes me wonder..."

Her gaze ran over me and she shook her head, muttering to herself again.

"He is my brother. What you're suggesting is..." what had I told him the night he'd first kissed me? "Sick. An evil thing that turns my stomach to think about."

"Yes, well, you never know where a boy like that might turn his attentions. Men don't always see these things as women do."

I shook my head, hoping it would add weight to my words. "I'm sorry Aunt Caroline, but your suggestion shocks me. Besides, if he indeed felt that way inclined, I doubt he'd be able to keep it from Fynn, and we both know how he would react to such a thing."

The too plump woman gave a sharp sniff and returned to her seat, all too aware of my brother's temper when he thought some kind of evil or injustice had been committed. "Well whoever he is, it's better you stop your fancying now and get a grip on reality. Your father has already received two proposals for your hand, along with rumours of a third."

My hands froze where they were, and for the life of me, I couldn't seem to make them move again. She reached over and patted the one closest to her.

"Don't fret child. I'll make sure you know everything you need to before he packs you off."

"I... excuse me," I said, rising to my feet. "I think I need a... a moment to collect myself."

She nodded and let me go. Under any other circumstances I would have thought it odd of her, but at that moment, I couldn't think of anything beyond that which was being ripped away from me. My home. My family. Raff. Oh Raff. How could I possibly live the rest of my life with another man, any man, when the entire time my heart longed for him alone?

I scrubbed at the tear slipping its way down my cheek as I made my way out into what use to be my mother's private garden. It was in bad need of tending. The roses had grown wild and the bushels of lavender, once neat and kept to a small portion on the left had spread like an insatiable weed. Even the stone paths were in sore need of attention, having seen little in the way of repairs and sweeping.

I moved my silent feet over to the single stone bench and sat, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them before my entire body shook with unbidden sobs.

"Caitlyn?"

My body stiffened at his voice. It wasn't just that this was a sacred place to our family, one in which none entered lest they absolutely had to, not even my father, it was because it was his voice. Raff's. And as far as how he'd found me here? I looked up at him, my cheeks streaked with tears. This was the first moment we'd had to ourselves since the night Fynn had interrupted us.

"I..."

He was beside me in an instant, his arms encircling me as he lifted me onto his lap, cradling me against him. I closed my eyes, willing myself to memorise this moment, the feeling of him holding me, the sound of his heartbeat, the smell of his skin... all of it, before it was lost to me forever.

"What's wrong little dove? You know I'll fix it for you if I can."

"This isn't something you can fix."

He frowned as he used his thumb to wipe a fresh tear from the corner of my eye. "Let me be the judge of that."

I bit my bottom lip, hating the feeling of helplessness crushing down on me, on the both of us. I'd been stupid to let myself believe that our future could have ended any other way.

"Has someone hurt you? Tell me Catty! Has someone hurt you?"

I felt hot tears grace my cheeks again. "Only if you count ripping out my heart and shredding it to pieces."

He studied me a moment, carefully weighing his next words.

"I thought I had your heart."

"You do, Raff."

"Is it me? Have I done something to upset you?" His voice was strained, worried beyond belief.

"You've done nothing to upset me." Nothing besides fill my head with dreams and hopes that can never be.

"Then I don't understand."

A sigh escaped me, and I fought the urge to drop my eyes from his gaze. "Father is... is considering marriage proposals for me. He has two before him and... and there's talk of a third. That's why my Aunt hasn't left... she's making sure I'm ready to wed."

He smiled at me. After everything I'd just told him, he was sitting there, smiling at me. "It's not a joke Raff! This is serious! If he... if he accepts one, any one of them I'll be packed off to some strangers house to live out the rest of my life serving him and... and bedding him. A stranger who isn't you!"

He brushed the backs of fingers across my cheek, so soft it made me tremble. "Your father's had many proposals for you, and I already know he's not going to accept the two on offer."

"He's not?"

"Would I be this calm if I wasn't sure?"

I gripped his ring through my dress, almost too afraid to hope that what he'd said was true. "And the third?"

He shrugged. "Talk itself is worthless. Nothing can be legitimately considered without first being written down. Think nothing of it." His hand slid beneath my chin, lifting it so I had no choice but to look him strait into the blissful pools of his eyes.

"If it helps you any, your father's in a very strong position, one where it would take a great deal for him to be persuaded into letting you go."

His words should have given me comfort, but all they did was turn my heart cold with fear.

"How will he ever agree to us being together if none of these offers are good enough? What could you possibly give him to make him let me go?"

His hand slipped from my chin and brushed the corner of my lips, his fingers trembling with the effort to control himself. "Let me be the one to worry about such things."

"But -"

"Trust me Caitlyn. I'll find a way. We'll be together, I promise."