This isn’t Rowan. I’m imagining things.
Rex leaned forward and brushed his lips on Amelia’s cheek. The kiss was stiff and formal. I suppose it was in respect of Royal culture. That was when Amelia made her move. Grinning from ear to ear, my friend tore off her own mask as well as Rex’s leather helm. My breath caught. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
It was Rowan.
My mind raced. Was he really Genesis Rex? Or was this another case of body doubles? Every inch of my body froze with the thought. The ballroom took on a dreamlike haze. It didn’t seem possible.
Amelia went up on tiptoe and wove her fingers through Rowan’s brown hair and planted another longer kiss on his lips. Rowan didn’t react, but that didn’t stop my stomach from turning queasy. I remembered what his kisses were like.
“There,” said Amelia, her eyes glistening with joy. “That’s more how a Caster would do it, isn’t it?”
Rowan’s face was still as stone. “Yes, it is.”
Amelia bounced a bit on the balls of her feet. “I knew you’d be pleased.”
I took a half step backward. Rowan’s gaze locked with mine. Guilt and rage sparked in his brown eyes. We’d been able to read each other’s thoughts for ages. Now I wished I didn’t have the ability, because there was no question what that look meant.
Rowan was Genesis Rex.
He looked away again and my heart cracked.
Rowan lied to me.
All this time.
So many sweet words.
All lies.
The music started for the couple’s first dance. There was no way I could stand by and watch that happen. I turned on my heel and marched out of the ballroom.
Philippe was close on my heels. “Elea, what’s wrong? Where are you going?”
“Back into the dungeons.”
“I thought you needed help from the Casters.”
“Turns out, I was wrong.” Using the vortex watch was sounding better by the second. I might turn everything into dust for many leagues in every direction. At this moment, that didn’t seem like such a horrible idea.
In no time, I’d found my way back to the deserted reception room. I’d barely set my foot inside the door when Philippe gripped my shoulder. “Elea, what are you doing?”
I pointed toward the ballroom. “Did you know that particular man was Genesis Rex?”
“No, but I know his type of so-called noble. You know him, don’t you?”
I nodded.
Philippe exhaled a long breath. “Tell me you didn’t give him your heart.” Candlelight glimmered through his blond hair, making it seem like a halo. “I warned you about Royals, Elea.”
My heart felt like it was crumbling inside my chest. He did warn me. “I didn’t think he was King.”
“And I didn’t think anyone from the nobility could be worthy of your trust.” Philippe stepped closer. “Move on from this nonsense. Whatever happened back there? It was merely a political alliance. Don’t lose your friendship with Amelia on top of everything else.”
“I don’t blame Amelia.” I hated the bitter tone in my voice, though.
“Good. Blame the overgrown liar.”
“Mother Superior warned me against emotion. I should have listened to her too.”
“Stop blaming yourself. This is how noble families are, Elea. His kind doesn’t feel the way other people do. You and me? We’re pawns on a chessboard.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face. Our swim together. Those kisses. The way Rowan eyed me in the tavern bedroom. Those weren’t the acts of someone who was playing games. Still, it didn’t make the situation any less impossible. “Whatever he was doing, it’s all over now.”
“That’s the spirit.” Philippe offered me his arm. “Now, come dance with me.”
A familiar voice reverberated through the marble room. “Give us a moment, Philippe.” I’d know that deep tone anywhere. I could hear him speaking other words. Asking me to trust him. To believe in him.
It was Rowan.
Philippe set my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, your Highness. Elea and I are due to dance.”
Rowan’s voice lowered. “I’ve asked them to hold off on dances for a time. Please excuse us. I must speak with Elea alone.”
Philippe turned to me. “Is this all right?”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I merely nodded again. Philippe released my hand and bowed to Rowan—or Rex—whoever he was. Soon, the two of us were alone.
Bit by bit, I forced myself to meet Rowan’s gaze. His eyes were dark and his mouth grim. Again, I wasn’t happy that I could read his emotions so well. I still knew exactly what this face meant. Guilt.
This was no misunderstanding. Anger heated my blood. “You lied to me.”
“I had reasons. I can’t speak of them now. Where is the Vicomte?”
“What?” I couldn’t understand what I was hearing. “You asked me to trust you. You said we’d be together. Now, I see you get engaged to another woman and all you have to say to me is ‘where’s the Vicomte?’”
He stepped closer. “I have reasons, Elea. It’s important.”
And I’m not.
“He’s dead. I killed him.”
Rowan rubbed his neck. “You didn’t.”