In Love and War

Chapter 3 - Cheater, Cheater

Arya strode through the hallway, pale nightgown trailing behind her, and bare feet silent on the cold floor. Jacan slept in the room down the hallway from her when they didn't spend the night together. They used to always sleep in the same bed, whispering secrets like children under the stars, but that was before Arya became responsible for a kingdom, and found that the best way to get the most important things done was at night, when the dangerous men came out. It didn't leave much time for her marriage, especially with days filled with arrogant, arguing politicians and royal duties. But she missed Jacan, and the world seemed to be spinning far too fast ever after the last night, when she'd killed the assassin-boy.

She reached the ornate door and pushed it open, slipping inside on silent feet.

For a moment, Arya thought she was seeing double. For a sweet moment she convinced herself that there weren't two bodies laying on the bed, highlighted by silvery moonlight streaming in from the open window. For a sweet moment there was only Jacan, his face beautiful in the serenity of sleep.

Then the woman moved, and the illusion shattered, along with Arya's heart. In the deathly silence of the night, she could almost hear the crackle as her heart froze... and splintered onto the floor. There was a roaring in her ears as the strange woman rolled over. Naked. Just as Jacan was. There was no question why they wore no clothes.

"No," Arya whispered to herself, to the only man she'd ever loved, to the world, to the cruel gods.

She was shaking as she backed up, and she was shaking when she backed into the door and it slammed shut with a bang. She was shaking as she watched Jacan jolt awake, glance at the woman lying next to him without surprise at her being there as if this were normal, normal, as if this had happened many times before, and reach for the dagger he kept under his pillow. The dagger she'd given him.

She was trembling as he stood, his familiar body rippling without a stitch of clothing on. She'd loved that body.

So had the other woman.

But she stopped trembling when his eyes met hers in the darkness. His eyes widened and the hand that held his dagger lowered. She saw him seem to crumple as he looked at her, as he realized what she now knew. At the sheer pain she knew must be written on her face. Vulnerable. Gods, she hated being vulnerable. It meant weakness.

"Oh Gods." His voice was low and gravelly from sleep. "Arya."

But she was shaking her head, mind foggy and terrified as she groped behind her for the doorknob. It couldn't be happening. It couldn't.

"Arya, wait." He stepped forward, pleading.

Her hand found the doorknob and she paused to glance at him one last time. And in that last time she let him see the wall that she had pulled up between him and her, the wall that she had let him past when she had first been falling in love with him. She let him see the utter ice that had crept into the space where her heart had once been. And she hoped it hurt him.

She'd never been more glad that she'd always been a faster runner than him as she pulled open the door and stepped out. She began to run, and she knew he was behind her, chasing, yelling, begging. Her feet pounded against the floor, faster and faster, and she sprinted down the hallway. Tears filled her eyes until she couldn't see anything more than blurs of dark color. Stupid, stupid. The one time she'd opened her heart, the one time she'd believed that she really was loveable.

What a fool she'd been.

She skidded into her room and slammed the door shut. The tranquility was almost mocking, such a contrast to the chaos in her head. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she let them. She didn't care. What had she done wrong, she wondered. Her legs felt weak, so she let herself slide to the floor, back against the door. Why had he done it? Silent sobs ran through her body. Angrily, she swiped the tears from her face.