321: The burden on Bastian's heart (part 3)

The burden on Bastian's heart (part 3)

A woman's intuition rarely led her astray, and Adela's intuition had been remarkably sharp from the very beginning.2

It wasn't difficult to deduce that Aldric was manipulating Bastian when it came to Adela. While it had been unclear before, it became painfully obvious on the day she performed the miracle and Aldric started acting strangely when Bastian approached. She could only blame Aldric for that. However, for what she had previously ignored, she had only herself to blame.

Back then, she had refused to acknowledge Bastian's slightly heightened admiration for her, and even now, she was reluctant to confront it.

"You're intoxicated," she remarked without turning to face him or attempting to pull her wrist from his grip, allowing him a moment to release her voluntarily.

"I'm not drunk," he responded, his tone soft yet tormented.

Finally wrenching her wrist from his grasp, she spun around to confront him, her face revealing her mounting frustration. He needed to stop now before he uttered something irreparable.

"Bastian!" she admonished. "You're feeling confused because of what you've learned."

"Learned? What have I learned!"

"That your grandfather is alive!" She blurted out then took a deep breath, this information could serve as a useful distraction. "Not only is he alive, but he's a vampire."

He gently squeezed her wrist once more, his eye softening, seemingly aware of her attempt to save him from his own words.

"I thought I made myself clear down there; this doesn't concern me. What happened that day in the forest doesn't haunt me. I'm not Egon."

His disinterest appeared genuine. He was resolute in his indifference.

"I'm not Arkin either, and I won't run away from you." He added.

Arkin?

He met her frown with a blank stare, offering no further explanation. "You wanted to talk, so let's talk," he insisted, releasing her hand.

She shook her head, regretting not leaving the room when she had the chance.

"You said I was confused, but you're the one who's confused, Adela. You're just not aware of it," he gritted his teeth, anger resurfacing. "I wish I was confused like you, but unfortunately, I know exactly what's eating me up," he made a fist and thumped his chest twice. "My love for my brother is what's devouring me alive. If it were any other man..." He grimaced, determination in his eye. "If you belonged to anyone other than Egon..."

"Don't," she begged.

"...I would have taken you far away a long time ago."

A heavy silence hung between them. She gazed up at him, trying to hide any pity, while he looked down with a hint of relief.

"...You think I'm a scumbag and a lowlife, don't you?" 

"No," she answered honestly. "There's no such thing as a cage for the heart. One shouldn't be held responsible for one's feelings, only one's actions."

Her hand itched to reach up and touch him, but from now on, she would make sure to minimize any kind of interaction with Bastian.

"You're a good man, Bastian von Conradie."

His sudden outburst of hostility caught her off guard.

"I'm good? Why? Because I didn't force myself on you like the others did? Did you hear what I just told you? I'm only too glad that your heart isn't in a cage even after you got married, and I'm happy that you took a lover. I'm happy that I'm not the only one betraying my brother. How good am I, Adela?"

His accusations made her realize that she'd heard enough, but he didn't give her a chance to turn and move away.

Kneeling on one knee, he placed his fist over the left side of his chest.

"...What are you doing?" she asked with a flat tone.

He looked up at her with a glistening eye. "Trying to remember the oath of fealty so I can offer it to you."

"No," she replied firmly. "Stand up, Bastian. You are my brother-in-law, not my personal knight."

His shoulders tensed beneath her gaze. "I am about to become both," he declared.

"Why?" she asked, her patience wearing thin. "To mock my Emorian culture further than what you've done so far?"

"Your race does not matter to me, nor your House, nor who your father is."

"The words of a true Emorian knight," she retorted sarcastically, but it seemed he didn't even hear her.

"If I become your knight, I would give myself the moral justification not to tell my brother what you've been up to behind his back. That's what I need most."

Her hands curled into fists on either side of her. "Go ahead and tell him everything on your mind. I wish you had done so from the beginning."

Adela firmly believed that Egon would have put his brother in his place and not let the situation escalate to the point of no return.

"Right now, I am trying to sell my soul to you. Perhaps later," his words slurred as the alcohol seemed to take its toll. "My oath will shadow the despicable feelings I have for my brother's wife. It will allow me not to think about making the list of her lovers...What else?... I will have a noble lady I can lie for... I will make up more nonsense down the road."

Adela's expression turned cold, her patience waning.

"I, Adelaide de Lanark von Conradie, refuse your oath of fealty now and at all times."

Bastian's self-deprecating smile faded, replaced by a mixture of sadness and resignation.

"Rejected, huh... Well, now you know it. On the inside, I am just as disgusting as I am on the outside."

"No," she struggled to prevent herself from crying. "You are neither."

"Right. I just stabbed my brother in the back. Coveting his mate and covering for her. The one and only woman he can be with without his scars sizzling." He smiled, the sadness in his eyes deepening. "I am a good brother like that."

Suddenly, Adela felt a sinister aura from Bastian, worse than what she had sensed from her uncle and Leopold von Conradie back in their darkest of all moments.

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