Changing the World: All-New Tales of Valdemar

Honoria ran a hand along his cheek. “It’s not what it looks like, my darling. We’re not hurting her.”

Haralt finally spoke. “Master Lubonne, she’s worthless as she is, but an exceedingly valuable horse once we break her. Sometimes—”

Lubonne snapped. “I don’t want her broken; I want her whole.” He shook off Honoria. “She’s perfect as she is, and I order you to release her.”

“—sometimes the process looks harsh, but I assure you it’s necessary to—”

This time, Honoria cut him off. “Forget it, Haralt. It’s not going to happen.” She turned to Lubonne, and her whole demeanor seemed to change. Where she had once seemed demure and dewy-eyed, she became as callous as any huntsman. “It could have worked out perfectly for all of us.” She shook her head, frowning. “You would have had your bit of land and your gorgeous, fawning wife despite your . . .” She made a gesture to indicate his face.

Haralt turned positively green. “Honoria, what are you doing?”

She persisted, undaunted. “I would have had my handsome lover, and our children . . .” She poked Lubonne. “ . . . your children . . . could they have been more stunning?”

Lubonne gritted his teeth as it all became clear. Honoria had never loved him; she had wanted only his status and his money, which she intended to use to make a home for them. Then, while he was out, she would entertain Haralt, pass off his offspring as legitimately Lubonne’s, and live out her life in secretive happiness.

Honoria threw up her hands, as if Lubonne were the one who had just exposed a cruel scheme. “And we all would have lived happily, contented, if you hadn’t put an animal over your love for me.”

Torn between screaming and crying, between attacking and running, Lubonne stood his ground. He continued to speak gently, his tone flat to hide his building rage. “I could say the same for you, that you put your love for an animal . . .” Lubonne turned his gaze directly on Haralt, “ . . . over me. But, then, I would be granting this conniving servant the same status as Carthea, and he does not deserve it.”

Haralt drew himself up, clearly affronted. He did not speak, however, nor dare to approach.

“Let her go!” Lubonne roared, fists clenching and unclenching. He wished he had brought a weapon; even the wooden one he used for practice would suffice.

Honoria grinned wickedly, then started to laugh. “By what authority do you command this, Hawknose? You’ve admitted in front of an entire ballroom that you have no claim to this animal. You don’t own her. We have as much right to her as you. More so, because she is now in our possession.”

She was right, Lubonne knew, and his heart sank. He looked at Carthea, forcing himself to examine only her sweet, long-lashed eyes. If he took in the entire picture again, he could not have retained his composure. :With my help, can you break free?:

:I . . . don’t think so.: Carthea dropped her head further . :I’ve tried. They’re strong, and I’m exhausted.:

It’s up to me. Lubonne studied Honoria, wondering what had seemed so special about her in the past. Where once she had seemed flawless, he now discovered a million faults. Her external beauty seemed worthless, her gray eyes as welcoming as a rusty steel trap. “What do you want her for anyway?”

Honoria glanced at Haralt, who seemed suddenly engrossed in his own boots. “As Haralt said, she’s a valuable animal.” She headed back toward the servant.

“Once she’s broken,” Lubonne reminded, watching Honoria leave. He had never before noticed how she waddled when she walked. Which will never happen. “How’s that going so far?”

Carthea snorted, pale eyes like brimstone.

“We’ll break her,” Honoria promised. “No matter how long it takes.”

“Or,” Lubonne suggested, suddenly thoughtful. “You could sell her.”

Honoria shrugged. “We’ll have to now. We’ll need that money to fix up the land, build a house.”

Lubonne had heard those plans before, many times. But, always in the past, “we” had included him. Now, he felt certain, Honoria referred to Haralt.

:You knew all the time, didn’t you?: Lubonne accused his Companion.

:Knew what?:

:Knew what kind of person I had affianced myself to. Knew she didn’t really love me, that she would hurt me badly.:

Carthea snorted again. :I knew.:

:Why didn’t you save yourself this trouble and pain? Why didn’t you just tell me?:

Carthea rolled the one eye he could see. Her ears pricked forward. :You know why.:

:I do?: And, suddenly, Lubonne realized, he did. I wouldn’t have believed it. I would have thought she was lying to get me to join her.