Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 267

267 I Will Wait

Lev’s POVO

For a moment after Radimir said it, the room felt like it had gone too still for breathing. I stood there looking at him and all I could think was that if Vanessa Valemonte had truly changed her mind so quickly, then she was either weaker than I gave her credit for or someone was running ahead of her words and dressing them in something uglier. Neither possibility pleased me. But what pleased me even less was the way Radimir stood there like this proved him right. Like Briarwood shifting its weight was not the result of old people playing games, but of Arya’s existence. I could feel her standing behind me, quiet, controlled, taking the blow the way she always did when she knew men were about to throw their dirt and call it strategy. That alone made my temper go colder.

“The Countess had the opportunity to say that to my face,” I said.

Radimir’s nostrils flared. “That changes nothing.”

“It changes everything,” I said. “She told me she would respect my choice.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “And you believed that?”

“Yes,” I said.

He looked at me like I was young and stupid. Men like Radimir always did that when you did not panic where they wanted you to panic. He had already built the next ten consequences in his head, already seen himself saving Blackbirth from the mess I had supposedly made, already put Arya at the centre of it all and named her the poison. It was predictable. Tiring too. But predictability in men like him was

useful. It made them slow in certain ways.

“As for succession,” I said, “the Countess never mentioned Mary.”

Radimir scoffed. “You think Theodore would invent that?”

“Where did you get this from?” I asked.

He stared at me like the answer should have settled it by itself. “Robert. The Countess’s aide.

Theodore confirmed it.”

So that was it.

Robert and Theodore.

Not Vanessa herself.

That told me enough to keep my mind clear, though not enough to dismiss the problem entirely. Aide

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and father. Both men with plenty to gain from closing the narrative quickly and making it sound like Briarwood’s future had already been tied into a neat little bow. That did not mean the Countess had not said something in private. It meant I had no interest in dancing to the tune of two men who wanted

me unsettled.

“I really don’t care,” I said.

The room changed.

Radimir’s face went red so quickly it almost looked painful.

“You don’t care?” he said. “You don’t care that Briarwood may turn against Blackbirth because of what

you’ve done?”

I folded my arms. “If you’re afraid Briarwood will act against Blackbirth and cause a war, you are free to take your daughter and retire to Greenwich.”

Tamara, who had been half inside the doorway still, made a wicked sound that was too close to laughter for the moment. Arya did not say anything, but I felt her attention sharpen behind me. Radimir, however, looked like I had struck him.

“You insolent boy,” he snapped.

“No,” I said. “I’m a man making his own decision.”

He took one step toward me, then stopped. Good. Even in his anger he knew better than to come too close while I was already standing on the edge of patience. But his gaze cut sideways then, to Arya, and the look in his face turned foul in a way I already hated before he even opened his mouth.

“Why do you have to break everything you touch?” he asked her

The words landed ugly in the room.

Tamara swore under her breath.

I turned sharply, but Arya had already stepped fully into the line of it. She was tired. Moon, I could see it now. The long drive, the dinner, the women, the whispers, the road, and now this. Yet she still stood straight. Cream dress still on her body because she had not even had the chance to change. Hair a little loosened from the night. Face pale, but her eyes steady and bright with that dangerous calm she got when something really wounded her and she chose not to bend in front of it.

She looked at Radimir without lowering her head.

“I have never broken anything before,” she said.

Her voice was quiet.

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That made it hit harder.

“And I won’t let you pin this on me,” she said.

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For one second I thought Radimir might actually raise his hand. It was there in him. In the twitch of his jaw. In the way his shoulders moved. In the old rotten instinct of men who could not bear a woman speaking back with truth when they were in the middle of humiliating themselves. If he had done it, I do not know what that room would have become. I only know he would not have liked the result. He

wolf did not slap her. But I saw in his countenance that he wanted to. Wanted to badly enough that my shoved hard against my ribs and a low growl nearly climbed my throat.

He looked from Arya to me again, rage eating at the composure he liked pretending he still owned.

“I hope,” he said tightly, “that you will not regret this decision.”

Then he turned and stormed out.

The silence after the door slammed felt strange. Not peaceful. Only empty where noise had been.

Tamara looked at Arya first, then at me. Fury still flickered over her face, but beneath it was concern too. She knew this was no longer a scene for sharp-tongued support and loud outrage. This had gone

somewhere deeper.

“I’ll go,” she muttered.

“A good idea,” I said.

Tamara walked straight to Arya first and squeezed her arm. It was quick. Fierce. The sort of touch that said more than words without forcing them into the room. Then she left, and the chamber finally

belonged only to us.

I turned to Arya.

She had not moved much. That was what unsettled me most. Not the words Radimir used. Not even the rage. It was the way she held herself after. Too still. Too quiet. Like she had gone somewhere inside herself where she could sort the cuts later when no one was looking. I knew that place. I had watched her retreat to it more than once already. It was one of the things I hated most about what had been done to her. The way people had taught her to swallow wounds standing up.

I crossed the space between us slowly.

“Arya,” I said.

Her eyes lifted to mine.

There was hurt there.

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