Chapter CLXXXV: Let me love you

Rya had spent the past weeks doing everything in her power to restore some semblance of control in Dragonspire. She stayed out of Ian’s way, refusing to let him into her life, her space, her thoughts. She was determined to hold on to whatever dignity she could muster, especially in the wake of their rushed, chaotic marriage.

A massive stone bridge across the Fire River, a plan Rya had conceived when she was just seventeen. She’d envisioned it as a marvel that would cut the journey to Ivro by five days, a vital improvement for trade and travel. From her chamber window, she could see it all now, the construction slowly taking form, brick by brick.. Ian was there, hauling stones, hammering beams, and organizing the workers like he was still one of them.

Ian worked tirelessly. It seemed like he never stopped. His hands were always covered in dust, his brow furrowed with focus as he helped the workers carry stones and hammer together the framework. She couldn’t help but notice how much he had changed. The young knight she had once seduced, now a Duke—strong, tall and with a face that, despite the hard work and exhaustion, was undeniably handsome. His hair was longer, a scruffy beard marking the passage of time since they had last truly spoken. She couldn’t help but notice him. He was undeniably striking, a man who commanded attention. His long, dark hair was tied back, his beard fuller now that he was no longer a knight, and his muscular frame moved with purpose. He looked entirely at home among the grit and sweat, and something stirred in her—a reminder of how much she’d been drawn to him in the first place.

Later that evening, Ian trudged back to the castle. The day’s labor had left him utterly drained. He hadn’t yet adjusted to the luxuries of his new station: a warm bath waiting for him, a spacious, soft bed he never would have imagined as a soldier. As he slipped into the steaming water, he let the warmth ease his aching muscles, his thoughts distant and muddled. Once he’d dried off and prepared for bed, he was startled by the sudden bang of his door flinging open.

Rya stormed in, her expression sharp and her tone accusatory. “Why haven’t you collected the fares from the farmers yet?”

Ian blinked, his exhaustion evident. “What fares?”

“The fares to feed Emberlace!” she snapped. “I’ve been using the castle’s provisions for months, and the farmers are supposed to contribute. That’s how it’s always been done!”

Realization dawned on him, and his face fell. “Shit. I forgot. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That was the one thing I asked you to handle, and you couldn’t even do it!”

Ian bristled, his patience fraying. “Why the hell would you ask me to handle something that’s about your dragon?”

“Because the farmers are more likely to comply if you’re the one giving the order!” she shot back.

“Fine! I’ll issue the damn order tomorrow!” His voice rose, frustration boiling over. “But right now, I need to rest.”

Rya didn’t back down. “Why do you waste so much time on construction sites instead of managing your actual duties?”

That was the last straw. Ian turned to her, his face hard, his voice cutting. “Because it’s what you want to do!”

Rya froze, stunned into silence. Ian took a step closer, his words tumbling out in a raw, unfiltered torrent. “I never asked for this, Rya. I’m a knight—a soldier! One day, I’m locked in a prison cell, getting the shit beaten out of me by the Dragon King rightfully so because I fucked his daughter. I thought I was going to have my head cut off, but instead, I wake up a fucking duke! I have no idea what the fuck is happening in my life anymore!”

He let out a harsh laugh, bitter and weary. “Months ago, you were sweet, caring, and couldn’t keep your hands off me. And now? Now you’re my wife and you look at me like I’m the last thing you want to see! You keep saying you should’ve let me die. And you know what? Maybe you should have! At least then I wouldn’t be stuck here, waiting for the moment you finally decide you’re done and make good on that thought. So just do it, Rya. Kill me, or leave me the fuck alone.”

The words hung heavy in the air, cutting through the tension like a blade. Rya said nothing at first, her lips parted as if to speak but no sound came. Then, without warning, she closed the distance between them. Her hands gripped his face, pulling him down to her level, and she kissed him with all the force of the storm swirling inside her.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was fierce, angry, desperate—a clash of emotions too complicated to unravel in that moment. Ian froze at first, stunned by her sudden turn, but then his hands found her waist, and he pulled her closer, returning the kiss with equal intensity. It was a collision of frustration, longing, and the undeniable pull that had once drawn them together. Neither of them knew what it meant, but for that moment, nothing else mattered.

***

Rya and Ian lay tangled in each other’s arms, their breaths heavy, their bodies slick with sweat. The room was dark and warm, the only light coming from the faint glow of embers in the hearth. It was the first time they’d been together since their wedding, and the hours of passion had left them both strangely light, as if some of the weight they carried had been lifted—if only for a moment.

Ian’s fingers gently combed through her hair, his touch soft and unhurried. Rya, for once, didn’t resist; she leaned into him, her cheek resting against his chest. He murmured, his voice low and soothing, “Your hair is so soft…”

She gave him a faint smile, the kind that barely lifted her lips but held something genuine beneath the exhaustion. Ian shifted, sitting up slightly so he could better see her face. His roughened hand brushed against her cheek, his thumb tracing slow circles on her skin. “I know this isn’t what either of us asked for,” he said quietly. “I know how hard you worked to make something of your life here. And I know I’ve probably ruined everything.”

Rya’s brow furrowed, her gaze questioning. “What are you talking about?”

Ian hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he sighed. “The reason I told my brother about us…” He trailed off, his voice faltering.

Rya propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What? Why?”

Ian closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself. Then he met her gaze, raw honesty shining in his eyes. “Because I was in love with you. I didn’t know what to do. I was nothing to you—just a distraction. And one night, after I’d had too much wine, I told my brother. I confessed everything.”

Her breath hitched, but before she could respond, Ian pressed on. “I’m sorry. I never thought Belton would find out or that it would lead to… all of this. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Rya’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. “You couldn’t have known,” she said quietly. Then, after a pause, she added, “Belton hated me for other reasons.” She let out a bitter laugh, her voice tinged with something between amusement and regret. “He was the first man I ever slept with. And he hated me because I played him. He couldn’t handle the fact that I beat him at his own game.”

Ian tilted his head, a small smile quirking his lips. “That sounds like you.”

Rya smirked faintly, but the humor faded as she looked at him. “Was it true?” she asked softly, her voice laced with something vulnerable. “Were you really in love with me?”

“Yes,” Ian said without hesitation. His voice was steady, his eyes unwavering. “It was true. It still is.”

Rya shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. “You shouldn’t be. I’m not a good woman, Ian. I’m stubborn, short-tempered, lascivious, and I drink too much. And since I was fifteen, I’ve deceived more men than I can count.”

Ian chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You never deceived me. I always knew what kind of trouble I was getting into with you.”

She looked at him, her defenses slipping further. “Before you… no one stayed. I always pushed them away, and they left. But you…” Her voice broke slightly, and she looked down. “You didn’t leave. I couldn’t push you away, no matter how hard I tried.”

Ian reached for her hand, holding it firmly in his. “Then stop trying,” he said softly. “Let me love you, Rya. I’m here, and I’m committed to you for life. That won’t change. Let me love you. I can love enough for both of us, for a while, if that’s what it takes. Just let me.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Then he leaned forward and kissed her, tenderly this time, with a depth of feeling that made her heart ache. When their lips parted, Rya rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his skin. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe, as though the storm that had raged inside her had finally calmed. In Ian’s arms, she found a sliver of peace.