“I’m sorry. I was so ashamed of what I did, I wanted to pretend it never happened. Since I was king, everyone went along with my act and I was able to forget—”
“Your own troubles,” finishes Lincoln. “All while doubling the load on everyone else. I appreciate that you’re acknowledging this at last, but…” He shrugs.
“I know.” Connor’s face takes on a hollow, haunted look. “I’m paying for my errors, believe me.”
I stare at Connor’s face, and something about it seems familiar. He reminds me of Adair right now. The horrors of being tortured seem fresh on him, like it did with her. “did I pull you from the torture pits?” I ask.
Connor nods.
“I thought Dad got you out of there. He was supposed to talk to Nefer.”
“He did. I refused. I deserve what’s happening to me. And the physical torture isn’t anything compared to realizing what I’ve done to everyone I care about.” His voice breaks as he speaks. “I’m so sorry.”
Octavia steps forward, her face lined with worry. “We are not sending you back to the torture pits.”
“Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. I’m there right now.”
“There’s another option, Father.” Lincoln pulls his baculum from his packet. “We can set you free. You can be erased.”
Connor looks to Octavia, his eyes lined with tears. She gives him the subtlest of nods. “If you wish this, you have my blessing.”
Lincoln’s voice turns gentle. “Is that what you want, Father?”
Connor stares at the baculum for a long moment. “Yes. That’s what I want.”
Lincoln ignites his baculum as a dagger, like I did with Adair. He plunges the blade into Connor’s heart. Tears stream down the faces of both father and son. My shoulders shake with silent sobs.
Why does this have to be so hard?
Connor gasps as the dagger hits him, and then, his face calms into a peaceful smile. The last image I have of him is that sated grin. Connor disappears.
I turn to Lincoln, cupping his face in my hands. “You did the right thing.”
He nods, and a sense of peace glimmers in his mismatched eyes as well. “I know.” He gently kisses my cheek. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I open the door to Hildy’s private room in the Arx Hall infirmary. Maxon sits at the foot of her bed, playing poker with two guards. Based on the piles of gold around him, Maxon’s fleecing them both. I can’t help but be a little impressed, but Lincoln’s less pleased.
“Who gave you permission to leave your posts?”
The guards snap to attention. “Apologies, Your Highness.”
Maxon sets his fist on his hip. “While you’re gone, I’m the ranking noble. They have to listen to me. I wanted to play poker.” He picks up a pile of gold coins in his chubby hand. “And I’m winning.”
“They don’t have to play games with you; they have to do their jobs.” Lincoln glares at both of them in turn. “And they know it.”
I can almost see the thought bubble reading yipe-yipe-yipe above the guards’ heads as they scurry back into their places against the far wall of the room.
“Alright, baby,” I say. “Time to get some sleep.”
Maxon scooches closer to Hildy. “I don’t need sleep. I’m super-natchal.”
“Come on, son,” adds Lincoln. “Let’s give it a try.”
Maxon folds arms over his chest. “No. Hildy needs me.”
And now begins a glare-a-thon between Lincoln and Maxon. I remember how Lincoln and Connor used to have similar visual show-downs. Scenes like this don’t necessarily facilitate great family memories. In fact, the room starts getting downright uncomfortable when a soft voice breaks the silence.
“Listen to your parents.”
Maxon’s eyes widen with shock. “Hildy?”
Her heavy-lidded eyes flutter open. “I was trying to sleep, but you’re too fidgety.”
Maxon wraps his arms around her neck. “Hildy! You’re awake.”
Hildy shakily lifts her arm to pat his back. “And you’re not listening. Go with your parents and get some sleep, okay?”
“Okay, sure,” says Maxon quickly. He raises his arms toward me. “Snuggle tails, Mommy?”
“You got it.”
I scoop him up onto my hip. Our tails entwine and I feel like he’s hugging me in a relaxed way that I haven’t felt in months.
Lincoln motions to one of the guards. “Get the doctor.” He steps closer to Hildy’s side. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired but good.” Her mismatched eyes narrow. “That was a bitch. I want a raise.”
Lincoln chuckles. “You’re getting one.”
Emily bursts into the room. “You’re awake! You’re awake! The doctor is on his way. We need to run some tests.” She starts fussing with the bedcovers.
Hildy bats her nurse away. “I’m on this.”
“We still need to run some tests.”
“Stick your tests up your ass. I healed myself and I’m fine now, thank you very much.”
I gesture toward the door. “Please give us a moment alone.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Emily scurries out.