It was at that, I swallowed and finally shuffled to the side. Leaning heavily into my hand on the wall, my head dropped because the effort of holding it up was too much as their words burned into my brain. My skin.

My soul.

“At least she’s on pennyrium,” the first voice noted. “Sally from the village said Ulfr gets Loretta to acquire it from her. Though, it’s still shocking, what with what his father did to his mother. From how he is, it’s impossible to believe he’s repeating history like this. But it seems he is, since his father also installed his mistress at the dower house just like Ulfr has done with this Madeleine.

“But the old Ulfr did it to get her with child,” the second voice remarked and I blinked at my feet in shock.

There was a clucking noise before the first voice said, “I know. Desperate for an heir, he put his wife through that. Can you imagine, living in this house knowing your husband journeys ten minutes away every single night to engage in such activities?”

“Can you imagine living in the dower house knowing your lover leaves you for his barren wife and you’ll never have him that way?” the second voice returned.

The first one’s voice stated clearly she couldn’t imagine it when she said, “I felt for her. For both of them. Especially when old Ulfr got his heir. All of that still going on, having the best of both worlds, but her sitting in the dower house having to wait for visits from her own son that the lady of the house was raising, and poorly, seeing as she didn’t think it all that grand having to raise her husband’s child with another woman. A woman that was just along the way. I was here when it happened and it was actually a relief when he finally sent her away.”

What on earth were they talking about?

“With all that happening to his mum, Ulfr should know better,” the second one stated firmly, cutting into my thoughts. “Everyone in the village is talking about this Madeleine. About how young Christophe ran away because he can’t bear to be around her. How Ulfr is repeating history. You know, no one believes he’s going to marry her. What I don’t understand is why he dragged his children into this at all.”

The first woman’s voice was fading when she replied, “It’s unlike him. Truly. And disappointing. But he’s an Ulfr. He’s Head of a House. They do what they will. They always have.”

They were clearly departing because I barely heard the second one concur, “That they do.”

I knew they were gone when I heard nothing more.

But I didn’t move.

I couldn’t know for certain because Apollo sure as hell didn’t tell me but it seemed like his mother had lived in my house, and she didn’t do it after moving there when her husband died. She was not his father’s wife, she didn’t raise her son except for whatever visits Apollo’s father let her have, and then she was sent away.

This was big shit.

Shit Apollo should have shared with me, perhaps, I didn’t know, one of the freaking dozens of times we lay in bed whispering to each other.

And he had some house set up for me somewhere.

Somewhere far away.

With an account for me.

As devastating as this news should have been, it wasn’t.

Because it wasn’t a surprise.

Christophe had run away because of me and Apollo was clearly concerned with that. He’d also made it clear he was fed up with dealing with me. But he wouldn’t turn me out or allow me to go it alone.

Apparently, in the last two days he’d made arrangements to keep me.

He just wasn’t going to keep me.

At that thought, I knew why I was feeling nothing.

I was feeling nothing because that was the smartest way to feel for if I felt what I should be feeling, it wouldn’t gut me. It wouldn’t destroy me.

It would annihilate me.

On that thought, I remembered Apollo was waiting for me. That bitter chill crept over my skin as I pushed away from the wall, squared my shoulders and raised my head.

And again stopped dead.

This was because I saw Chris in the door to a room just two feet ahead of me, his head turned to look down the hall toward where the voices had disappeared.

That was his room.

The door had been open.

He’d heard.

I knew it because I only had his profile but his face was pale and he looked stricken.

I moved and watched his body jump before his head whipped my way.

“Please don’t run,” I whispered.

Fortunately, he didn’t move.

“Thank you,” I said when I’d stopped close.

Then I didn’t waste any time saying what I had to say. I did this because I wanted him to listen to me and I didn’t want him to dash away in the middle of what I had to say.

I also did it because I didn’t want to torture him with my presence for too long.

“I won’t take a lot of your time, Christophe. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” I pulled in a deep breath, pulling it together at the same time, and went on. “I never meant to hurt you. Before I met you, I was very worried I would. I’m not surprised that I did. But I am sorry.” I dipped my voice lower and held his eyes when I finished, “Very sorry, honey.”

He stared up at me and said nothing, his face expressionless.

Looking at his face, I again thought that he was so like his father in so many ways.

But it was time for this to be done. He didn’t need any further pain.

Neither did I.

“Even if I did hurt you,” I began honestly, “for me, it was still an honor to have the opportunity to get to know you. You’re a good brother. You’re a great kid. And your father is very proud of you. You’ll make an excellent soldier one day, Chris. In fact, you’ll make an excellent anything you want to be.”

He continued to stare up at me without a word.

So I decided to finish up.

“Thank you for putting up with me for a spell. I wish that time came without me hurting you. But I’m still grateful that I’ve had it.”

He swallowed.

That needed to be that, so I gave him a smile that was not genuine in the slightest, wishing I could touch him. I wouldn’t be greedy, go for a hug, a kiss on the cheek. I just wanted to stroke his hair or run my finger along his cheek.

But I couldn’t.

Because he wouldn’t want that.

Instead, I turned away and moved quickly down the hall.

I didn’t look back.

Because speaking with Chris took a lot out of me. Too much. I was beginning to feel more than nothing. A lot more than nothing. And I needed that nothing in order to get through speaking with Apollo.