“So why didn’t you?”
“Marry, you mean?” She laughed a little uneasily. “You might find this hard to believe, Hadrian—given my immense beauty and all—but Emery was the first man to show an interest. At least, he was the first to actually say anything to me. I’m not like Lenare or Alenda. Men aren’t attracted to me and the whole witch thing doesn’t help. No, Emery was the first, and I honestly believe that if he’d gotten to know me better, he would have changed his mind. He didn’t live long enough to figure out it was just infatuation. It was the same with Hilfred.” She paused and looked away from him, a sadness overtaking her. “I suppose I should be happy that so few have ever showed an interest in me, or I might have more blood on my hands.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Only Emery and Hilfred expressed feelings for me.” She hesitated a moment. “And each time, within something less than a week, they died.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was my idea to stage the revolt that killed Emery, and it was my plan to save Gaunt that killed Hilfred. My plans—always my plans.”
“Emery would have died in the square if it wasn’t for you.”
“And Hilfred?” she taunted.
“Hilfred made his own choice, just as you did. I’m sure he knew the risks. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I still feel cursed, like I’m not supposed to be happy—that way.”
He thought she might speak again and waited. They sat in silence for several minutes. He watched her close her eyes and he took another breath. This was harder than he had expected.
“The real reason I never told her,” Hadrian went on, his own voice sounding awkward to him, odd and off key, “if I am honest with myself, is that I’m scared.”
She rolled her head to look at him with a sidelong glance. “Scared? You? Really?”
“I guess I was afraid she’d laugh at me. Or worse, become angry and hate me. That’s the worst thing I can think of—that she would hate me. I’m not sure I could live with that. You see, I’m very much in love with her, and I’d rather be drawn and quartered than have her hate me.”
He watched as Arista’s shoulders sank. Her eyes drifted from his face, and her mouth tightened. “Sounds like a lucky woman. It’s a shame she’s not here now. There’s not much to lose at this point. It could give you the courage to tell her, knowing that if she hates you, you’ll not have to endure the pain for long.”
Hadrian smiled and nodded.
Arista took a breath and sat up. “Do I know her?” She cringed again, as if expecting to be struck.
Hadrian sighed heavily.
“What?” she asked. “I do know her, don’t I? You would have told me her name by now if I didn’t. Oh come on. It hardly seems worth keeping the secret at this point.”
“That’s it exactly,” he said. “The reason I was thinking all this is because…” He paused, looking into her eyes. They were like pools he was preparing to jump into without knowing the temperature of the water. He braced himself for the shock. “The one thing I regret the most in my life is the one thing I can still change before it’s too late.”
Arista narrowed her eyes at him. She tilted her head slightly the way a dog might when it heard an odd sound. “But how are you going to—” She stopped.
Her mouth closed and she stared at him without speaking, without moving. Hadrian was not certain she was still breathing.
Slowly her lower lip began to tremble. It started there and he watched as the tremor worked its way down her neck to her shoulders, shaking her body so that her hair quivered. Without warning tears spilled down her cheeks. Still she did not speak, she did not move, but the robe changed from blue to bright purple, surrounding both of them with light.
What does that mean?
“Arista?” he whispered fearfully. The look on her face was unfathomable.
Fear? Shock? Remorse? What is it?
He desperately needed to know. He had just thrown himself off a cliff and could not see the bottom.
“Are you upset?” he asked. “Please don’t be mad—don’t hate me. I don’t want to die with you hating me. This is exactly why I never said anything. I was afraid that—”
Her fingers came up to his lips and gently pressed them shut.
“Shh,” she managed to utter as she continued to cry, her eyes never leaving his face.
She took his hands in hers and squeezed. “I don’t hate you,” she whispered. “I just—I—” She bit her lip.
“What!” Hadrian said in desperation, his eyes wide, trying to see everything, searching for any clue. She was torturing him on purpose—he knew it.
“This is going to sound really stupid,” she told him, shaking her head slowly.
“I don’t care—say it. Whatever it is, just say it!”
“I—” She laughed a little. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life than I am right now.”