Baudwin whacked the training dummy with his wooden practice sword, again and again, needing to release the impotent rage coursing through his body. Lies. So many lies. The sword thudded against the body of the dummy rhythmically as he kept attacking it. His arm was tired by now, and his leg had ached from the overexertion, but he wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. He didn't want to think about the revelations from this morning. It was all too much.

An extra hard blow made the dummy topple over and fall to the floor with a loud clanging, leaving him staring at it with his shoulders heaving.

"I think you killed it."

He turned his head to find his sister leaning against the arched entrance to the training room in the undercroft, her arms folded over her chest. An amused smile played at her lips and she was shaking her head slightly.

"What do you want?" His tone was gruff, but he wasn't in the mood for Braithe's teasing.

She raised a dark eyebrow as he rubbed his aching leg. He'd definitely pushed himself beyond his ability, and it was more painful than it had been for some time. Ignoring his sister, he limped over and sat down on a crate. Dropping his sword, he massaged the thigh, hoping to loosen the tight muscles.

"I wanted to check in on you." She pushed away from the wall and came into the room. Picking up a wooden practice dagger, she weighed it in her hand, flipping it around a few times. "Sorceress Isobel told me about Rhiannon."

Not wanting to meet her gaze, he stared straight ahead at a spot above the doorway. "What did she say?"

"She told me everything you heard, I imagine. How do you feel about your wife being sent to kill you?"

"You mean how she only married me because she was being blackmailed?" Baudwin glared at her. "I'm chuffed."

Braithe scoffed at his sarcasm. "I doubt that was her only reason. I've seen the way she looks at you. It's not the face of someone hating their husband. And you were both being blackmailed, or pressured, into the marriage anyway, under the threat of rebellion. What's a little added murder?"

"What's a little added murder, indeed." He shook his head before meeting her gaze. "Do you... Do you think she would have gone through with it?"

"No."

He scowled. That was a quick reply. "What makes you so certain?"

She shrugged. "If she wanted to murder you, surely she would have done it by now? And the reason her lady's maid attacked her was because she refused."

"I didn't know that."

"Apparently you left while there were still some things left to discuss." Braithe's knowing silver-grey eyes watched him shrewdly.

He sighed before looking down at his thigh where his hand was still rubbing it absently. "It was a lot to take in. She has kept so much from me. And when I found out she's responsible for this..." He nodded towards his leg. "It's... It's a lot."

Not having noticed her moving, it surprised him when Braithe suddenly crouched down in front of him. "It is," she agreed with a sympathetic half-smile. "And I can understand you being angry. You're allowed to be. But I guess you eventually need to decide what matters more. Her past or your future."

He let out a dark chuckle. "When did you become so wise?"

"I've always been this wise." She grinned. "You just never noticed. Or well, I guess you did a little since you made me one of your advisers."

"It's not just her past. I didn't know until today, but we share a past, and it's the worst part of mine."

"It didn't sound like the best part of hers either," Braithe pointed out.

Frowning, Baudwin looked at her. "Are you not angry? She lied to all of us."

She shrugged. "It would be hypocritical of me to be angry about someone lying about their identity."

"I just don't know who she is anymore," he admitted.

Standing back up, Braithe ruffled his hair in a way he'd always found irritating. "I reckon she's the same person she's been all along. Just with a few more... abilities."

"I can't believe she's a sorceress."

"Technically, she's not. She's just a magic user. A powerful magic user, apparently." Braithe suddenly grinned. "Can you imagine Aurelian was correct all along? He said she probably was a witch. Well, he wasn't entirely correct. But closer than you or I!"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "We'll never hear the end of it."

They smiled at each other for a moment before their amusement faded in the face of their reality.

"What will you do?"

He buried his face in his hands. "I don't know," he groaned. "I still haven't digested it all."

"You should probably talk to Rhiannon."

Braithe's suggestion made sense, but he wasn't ready. Not yet. "I will. Eventually."

They both startled when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs towards them, but relaxed when Aurelian appeared.

"I thought I might find you here," he said as he walked up to Braithe and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Then he looked at Baudwin. "There's been a development."

"Yes?"

"Lord Delen is dead."

After the revelations of that morning, nothing should have surprised him, but Aurelian's simple statement did. The bastard was dead?

"How did it happen?"

"They don't know," Aurelian admitted. "He was discovered in his tent last night. Someone broke his neck. Apparently his wife was with him, but she claims she doesn't know."

Baudwin frowned, remembering Rhiannon's rain-soaked dress from the previous evening and Isobel saying she had used magic. Could she have? He shook his head. Surely not. Orc's ass. He was going to have to speak to his wife sooner than he'd wanted to.

"What are the remaining western lords wanting to do?" he asked, postponing the inevitable discussion with his wife a little longer.

"They haven't agreed amongst themselves, but there have been talks of surrender. Our reinforcements should arrive tomorrow, and they stand no chance against the combined forces of those in the city now and the men sent by your vassals." Aurelian looked rather pleased. "I expect we'll receive a message from them soon enough."

The capitulation of the western lords would be most welcome. They could end this rebellion with minor loss of life. He stood up from the crate, but realised after the first step that he had worked himself too hard and his leg wouldn't hold his weight without too much pain. Frustrated, he hobbled over to the wall where his old cane rested since more than a fortnight ago. It was exasperating having to use it again, but he only had himself to blame. And maybe Rhiannon. The thought came unbidden, and he pushed it away.

With Braithe and Aurelian trailing behind him, he made his way back to the private chambers he shared with his wife. She was alone—the sorcerers having gone to the library to search for Isobel's book—snoozing lightly in the bed when they arrived. Seeing her again brought up a host of emotions, and he felt as if he might choke on them. How could she have lied to him? He'd known she had secrets... But this? He'd never expected this.

His face must have reflected the turmoil inside, as Braithe and Aurelian made their excuses and left, leaving him alone with Rhiannon. He stood there for he didn't know how long, leaning heavily on his cane as he watched her. In sleep she looked so innocent, even if a small crease between her brows spoke of a troubled mind, even during dreams. How could this woman have captured his heart while planning to kill him? Was he such a poor judge of character?

Her eyes fluttered before widening as she caught sight of him and she sat up, brushing her golden-red hair back from her face.

"Baudwin." There was a hesitation in her voice that wasn't normally there. "I... I wasn't expecting you."

Shifting his stance stiffly, he noticed her eyes drifting to the cane he'd not used for some time, but she didn't mention it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" It wasn't what he'd planned to say. He had wanted to tell her about Lord Delen, but his tongue had other ideas.

Her moss-green eyes flew back to his, the guilt like an aura around her he could almost touch. "I thought I was keeping you safe. I worried they might kill you if I told you of their schemes."

"As I understand it, I was meant to die, anyway." His hard tone made her flinch, and it filled him with a grim satisfaction he wasn't proud of. He was hurting and there was a primal urge to lash out. To not be the only one in pain. "Who did the killing surely didn't matter."

"I would never kill you." She looked earnest, her eyes never wavering.

"How do I know that?" Gripping the cane tighter, he tamped down the anger surging through him. "You kept so much from me. How can I know what is the truth at this point?"

"I will never lie to you again."

A dark chuckle escaped him as she repeated the vow he had made her before their wedding. He'd felt so guilty about his deception, but it paled compared to her lies. But it gave him the perfect opportunity to test her. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Never?"

"Never," she repeated, crossing her legs and leaning forward slightly on the bed, her golden-red hair falling over her shoulder like a waterfall.

"Your stepfather is dead. Lord Delen." She didn't look surprised, so he posed the question he'd come there for, "Did you kill him?"

She sat up a little straighter and her chin lifted almost imperceptibly. "Yes."

"Why?" He ran a hand over his face. "Or, I should say why now. I can think of several good reasons, but they're from the past. You could have killed him at any point. Why now?"

"I found out he is working with Son of Deva. They orchestrated the whole rebellion to gain control of the kingdom. They meant for me to kill you, essentially handing them the win. But when Ailla told me it was time, I..." She trailed off. Maybe she had noticed him tensing at the mention of how she was meant to kill him. "Baudwin, I would never have done it. You must believe me. I agreed to their terms because I thought that if I refused, they would have you murdered straight away. With me here, they thought they had their bases covered, and you were safe for the time being."

Looking at her, he believed she wouldn't have killed him. But that was only one lie out of many. "You married me to keep me safe. To keep the kingdom safe." He took a deep breath. "But you still married me because they forced you to."

She scowled. "I never lied about not wanting to marry you," she reminded him. "I was upfront about the fact that I married you to stave off the rebellion. Yes, there may have been more to it. But it doesn't really make much difference."

That much was true. Then why did it hurt so bloody much? Was it because he'd been foolish enough to believe that she felt something for him despite the forced marriage? Or any of the myriad of other lies and deceits.

"So... A sorcerer," he said, unwilling to think of the murder plot any longer.

"In training," she muttered. "An adept. It was all I ever was. Deva attacked long before I could earn the title."

"And apparently a healer?" Realising that he was gripping his cane tightly again, he forced himself to loosen the grip, flexing his fingers.

She nodded. "Yes. I'm... I'm the only one currently as far as I'm aware. There was another in Highglaive, but they killed him in the attack."

The attack. In between everything, he'd forgotten that she'd been there for the Dark Disciple's attack. That she'd been captured and had to live through whatever his followers had done to them. Until they had set her free.

"How long were you a prisoner?"

"It was difficult to keep track of time." She looked down at her hands resting in her lap. "Around a year."

"What did they do to you?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but felt like he needed to.

She let out a harsh laugh, devoid of joy. "What didn't they do?" She sighed. "I didn't realise it at the time, since they weren't telling us exactly what they were after, but I now know they were hoping to find out the locations of the other Godstones. I don't think anyone in Highglaive knew any locations, the stones are generally considered myth and legend. They tried to beat information out of us. Or their mages would use dark magic to provoke us with visions. These could be anything.

"Some of them were beautiful visions of being rescued, or being offered something you truly wanted, only to be denied at the last minute. Others were just filled with terror. Like Wray said, the more they knew about you, the better they could coax your mind to conjure the things that would haunt you the most."

"And, you and..." He almost couldn't make himself say it. "You and Son of Deva?"

"I was a fool. He made me feel loved and appreciated. Made me feel like I belonged somewhere. It was the first time in my life I had felt that way." She let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Back home, my stepfather hated me for as long as I can remember. I had to hide my magic, and I just never felt like I belonged. Coming to Highglaive, I was hoping to find my place. But..."

She lifted her head to meet his eyes, and the sadness in hers almost made him go to her. But he stood rooted to the spot, shackled by his own pain.

"I didn't feel like I belonged there either," she admitted with a sad smile. "Everyone there was lovely. They tried their best. But most of the other adepts had been there since a young age and already knew each other so well. I felt like an intruder. They were nothing like me. So when this man took an interest in me..."

"You fell hard." Baudwin nodded grimly. "It's not unheard of."

"I hate that I was so weak." Her eyes sparkled with bitter tears, but they didn't fall. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"I don't know," he said honestly.  "I think I can understand why you did what you did. But you lied to me. You broke my trust."

Her lower lip quivered, but she nodded. "I'm sorry."

"I know." With that, he turned on his heel and limped out of the room. He needed to leave before he took her in his arms, and he wasn't ready. Might never be ready. She may have told him everything, but she had not disputed being forced to marry him. She had not mentioned love. It would seem he was the only fool in love.

~~~~~~