The Subtle Beauty Read Online Free PDF Page A

being shoved under Xander’s nose.
    “What’s this?” Xander asked.
    “The land you have taken maledictions you. I know you are destitute and have no monetary means to rule. Sign this, and your life will be spared… for now. Consider it a gift to your son.”
    The lands were his if he signed. Die, if he refused; live if he accepted. Either way, he was a condemned man. Balthazaar was right. Xander never had the means to fund the lands, only the power to take them.
    Xander forced his name across the scroll before he could regret it all. The price was too steep. He only wanted to return home and forget this had all happened.
    Balthazaar gave a curt nod when it was all said and done. The world went black to Xander.
    When he came to, he found himself bound and gagged, slumped in Rhun’s saddle. The horse plodded along calmly as if knowing with certainty where to go. Xander glanced at the sky. The sun was slightly behind them, but not by much. They were headed southeast to Blackthorn. Xander groaned as Rhun jarred against a bank. The guards must have knocked him out. His head was splitting, and he tasted dried blood on the rag in his mouth. He reached to pull it out and looked to his side. Idegwaed swung in her sheath. Xander bent over carefully to retrieve her and slid the rope around his wrists against the blade’s jagged edge. He held her up in one hand. She had once been polished, smooth, and a prize to be won, but was now rugged and terrifying, and ugly. Xander felt this same ugliness within himself. How many lives had paid for this blade, now swollen with tiny cracks and veins? He clenched his teeth and swallowed back a sick taste. He sheathed Idegwaed hard and kicked Rhun into a gallop.
     
    A few of the men Xander had sent on his earliest conquest remained at the keep. It was only enough to guard the household. He swung over Rhun’s wide back and passed the reins to one of those men. Another ran out to him and took him by the arm.
    “What is going on?” Xander demanded, prying away his elbow.
    “Please, my lord, come with me. It’s urgent.”
    Xander marched behind. “Is it Aowyn? Is she alright?”
    The guard said nothing, but led him upstairs where Maeb was exiting Xander’s chambers. Her face was ashen and haggard. She looked at Xander bitterly. “ Do locht 2 . ”
    Xander pushed past her into the room. Even from where he stood, he could see Aowyn was deathly pale. He rushed to her side and took her icy hand in his. Her hair was dull and matted. Even the sun kisses across the bridge of her nose were faded. He pressed his lips to her fingers, willing warmth back into her. Her eyes opened to him. She moved her mouth to speak, but no words came.
    Xander could scarcely stand to look upon her glazed expression. “Oh, Wynnie…”
    “Her birthing time came days ago,” Maeb said softly from behind him. “He will not come.”
    Xander held Aowyn’s hand tightly. Was there a way to save them? “Bring me a dagger, Maeb.”
    Maeb returned quickly and pressed the dagger in to Xander’s hand. He looked at the blade, hands shaking. I must do what Maeb has not .
    He rose slowly, jaw trembling. He gently pushed back the covers to reveal Aowyn’s naked body, frail and gaunt. “I’m sorry, Wyn.”
    Carefully he pierced her belly with the blade and tore through flesh. Aowyn’s back arched, and her face lit up like white fire, eyes fully open and aware. Her throat gurgled, and a cry split the air, but it was not hers.
    Maeb unwound the babe from a mess of cord and fluids.
    The dagger fell from Xander’s hand, and he dropped to Aowyn’s side. She stared into space, her lips pursed and pulsing. Xander stroked her hair. “I’m sorry, Wynnie. I’m so sorry!”
    She turned her head. Her gaze came in to focus. For a moment, Xander saw his Aowyn, not the ghost of her. She smiled. Her chest sank with a peaceful sigh. The care of the world faded from her countenance. Xander buried his face against Aowyn’s lifeless