Forget Me Not, Page 7

  “This feeling,” he murmured, looking up at her with worry in his eyes. “I felt this way before, when everything fell apart. The feeling is an illusion. All will not be well.”

  She cocked her head at him. “You are affected by the attachment, but you don’t understand it. We are well-matched. Our natures compliment one another. There will be challenges, but we will face them together, or we may if an evil Emperor doesn’t make it his personal quest to destroy us. Even so, he could not keep us apart forever, and when we were reunited, my mind became whole, as did your heart.” She smiled at him, strangely confident in spite of her past. “I will stay at your side, and…”

  “No,” he said, frowning fiercely at her as he rose to his feet to look down at her ominously.

  “I do not want to leave you,” she said simply.

  “I must save the Empire. It’s my country, my people. I cannot abandon them to Tharmul.”

  She nodded slowly. “If you are Emperor, you could end slavery.”

  He gave her a half smile. “Yes. I did away with slavery in the army many years ago. I should have known that you would still be concerned with the unwashed masses.”

  She shook her head. “I went years without washing, although there weren’t masses of me. I will go with you to Barabbas.” She tightened her hand on his as she looked at him with shining eyes that made his heart ache.

  “My heart will remain here with you but my sword and arm must fight the Bashai until there is peace, in Barabbas and Elsyria. As Emperor, slavery will end, and I will send for you. Will you come?” he asked, gazing up at her with golden eyes that reminded her of the Elsyrian traitor, the emperor, his father.

  She shook her head. “I can’t wait. You must allow me to be your interpreter, or your mistress alongside you. I am afraid.”

  He frowned and brushed her soft hair away from her face. “What do you fear?”

  She swallowed. “The madness,” she said simply, dropping her eyes. “You came and the madness faded away. If you leave, will it come back? I can’t bear it. I can’t bear thinking that you are dead. I have waited long enough. I may be immortal, but a hundred years is too long to be without my heart.”

  Balthaar sighed. He wished more than anything to keep her safe, but how could he protect her away from him when she needed him, his own heart and soul to protect him from the Emperor’s curse?

  “You cannot be my mistress. My wife would be terribly jealous,” he said with a smile but his eyes were clouded with uncertainty.

  “Your wife?” she demanded, pulling away before he had her in his arms.

  “You must be my wife. No one else is crazy enough to have me,” he murmured.

  She shook her head, but couldn’t help beaming at him. “You shouldn’t make light of insanity and curses.”

  “But you must make light of darkness,” he said with a strange intensity, holding her firmly in his calloused hands before he leaned down and brushed her lips with his for a brief moment. “I give myself to you, Hatia, Wind Spinner, with the sun and the sea as my witness.”

  “Is this your idea of a wedding?” she asked, cocking her head with her customary curiosity.

  “You already wore the white dress and veil,” he said his throat growing tight. “If you’d rather not…”

  She put a hand to his lips. “I give myself to you, Harrin Balthaar, Barbarian General soon to be Emperor who will free the slaves, abdicate your throne, and retire to travel the world with your interpreter.”

  He smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, soaking in the reality of him, the moment that would not last forever, but would be followed by as much joy and bliss as they had already suffered sorrow and pain.

  The End

  First of all, thanks goes out to you, my readers. Thank you for reading, sharing and reviewing my books. I'd be writing in my closet without you.

  I would like to thank all those who helped me create Forget Me Not. Thanks to Heidi who read and gave me the feedback I needed to get this novelette tightened up. My beta reader, Lori, who helped me fix the many irritating ways you can spell made-up words. You rock.

  Thanks always to my husband who messed with the cover forever. This cover… at least it’s over. Thanks honey! Also, for letting me have my way with the gorgeous font.

  Thanks to my kids who are quiet during naps so that I can write instead of holding a cranky toddler. You’re the best.

  Thanks and glory be to my God who makes all things possible.

  Juliann was born and raised in South Central Utah-the desert-and currently lives in the beautiful city of St. Louis. She studied, among more than a few other things, Creative Writing and Fine Art at the University of Utah. She also enjoys gardening, sewing, painting, fabric sculpture, and whatever else shiny or crafty you can think of.

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