“Yes, well, the families of the guardians who lost their lives while caring for her responsibilities might disagree.”
He turns to Gus, but Gus shakes his head. “My father was honored to serve his king.”
I can tell that Gus means every word. Still, the weight of his father’s loss feels like a stone in my heart.
“His king,” Os repeats, turning back to me. “And am I safe in assuming that this is who you intend to make your queen?”
“Well, we haven’t really talked that far into the future—”
“But you have bonded?” Os interrupts.
I wish we could wait until Vane’s not shirtless and I’m not pantsless with unbraided hair and it’s not so incredibly humiliating. But it’s already too late.
“Yeah,” Vane says, reaching for my hand. “We have.”
Os groans, muttering something about foolish teenagers.
I pull myself to my feet, trying to look more confident than I feel as Os takes in the full effect of my ridiculous outfit.
He rolls his eyes and turns to Vane. “So this is the kind of king you’re going to be? One who blatantly disregards our wishes and does whatever you please?”
“When it comes to my personal life, yeah.”
“You don’t have a personal life—that’s what being king means! Your life is about serving others, not yourself. Otherwise you’re no different from Raiden.”
“Uh, I don’t murder innocent people, so I’m pretty sure that gives me a big one-up on him. And how does who I date have anything to do with ‘serving others’?”
“Because your people are searching for safety and stability and you’ve bonded yourself to the daughter of a murderer!”
I’m too numb to feel Vane’s warmth as he drapes his arm around me. But I notice he doesn’t say anything.
There’s nothing to say.
Os turns and starts pacing. He’s crossed the room three times before he says, “We arranged for you to marry the daughter of our fallen king and queen—two heroes not only known for their strength and kindness but who sacrificed themselves so the royal line could have a chance to live on. That future is something our people have been waiting for, hoping for. Fighting for the day they’d see the royal symbol once again adorn the gates of Brezengarde with a member of the Southwell family on the throne. And now you want me to tell them that instead, they need to embrace a queen who stole the king from his betrothed when she was supposed to be guarding him—who then abandoned her post, only to return weeks later and ruin everything we’d been planning for years? And the only notable claim she has for her pedigree is that her mother is one of the most infamous criminals our world has known—second only to Raiden?”
He pauses and I realize this is where I’m supposed to argue, prove that I’m worthy of Vane and all the responsibility that comes with him.
But every word that Os has said is true.
“You’re right,” Vane says quietly.
They’re two small words, but they hurt more than anything Os has said. I turn to look at Vane, but he’s looking at Solana and it feels like something inside me withers as he says, “Solana should be queen.”
I close my eyes, choking back my tears and reminding myself that I knew this could—should—happen all along.
But as I’m waiting for Os to bind me and drag me away, Vane pulls me closer and says, “I just shouldn’t be king. I wish I could fall in love with the princess and make everyone’s life easier. But I love Audra. So if I have to choose between being with her or being king, I will happily hand back the throne.”
I open my eyes, seeing nothing but the beautiful smile on the beautiful boy I will never deserve but want so much it makes me ache.
Os laughs—a sharp sound that spears my few seconds of happiness. “You think it’s that easy?”
“It can if you want it to be,” Vane tells him.
Os shakes his head and goes back to pacing. “Our world is broken, Vane—and when we’re finally free of Raiden and struggling to rise from the dust, we’re going to need strength to bring our people back together. We need our new leader to be the warrior who harnessed the power of four and destroyed the villain. Not the pretty girl who stood on the sidelines during the battle.”
“Hey, I’m going to fight right along with you,” Solana argues.
“No, you’ll be defending yourself and storing winds for the rest of us to use—which is a very useful tool,” Os tells her. “But it’s not the same as being the hero.”
Solana’s eyes narrow, and I can understand her fury. I know what it feels like to be underestimated.
But I also agree with Os.
Solana’s a trophy, meant to be paraded around and admired.
Not respected and loyally obeyed.