I nod. I expected as much. “I don’t claim to know much about what happened. Actually, I know next to nothing, but Jocasta said that Konstantina didn’t choose you. Did she marry someone else?”
It takes Carver a while to answer, so long that I start to think he won’t. His eyes stay closed, his long, thick lashes not quite covering the dark smudges peeking out from underneath them.
“A rich Magoi saw her,” he finally says. “She was so beautiful. He wooed her away from me, promising everything I couldn’t. Wealth, influence, children with magic. A different, softer kind of life. With him, she’d never get pushed around by royal soldiers again or taxed into near-poverty.” He pauses and then almost so quietly I don’t hear, he adds, “Nearly raped.”
My stomach dives hard. “Did you save her?” I ask.
He nods. “Barely. That was the first man I killed. We were children. He was already on top of her and didn’t see me coming.”
I flinch at the thought of a young Carver being forced to cover himself in blood. “But I thought your father’s army stopped that kind of treatment in most of the southwest.”
“It did. It got better. Like I said, we were young.”
Swallowing the ache in my throat, I smooth my fingers from his temple to the back of his skull and then down his neck, gently massaging. I lightly retrace the path again, never breaking contact. “If the Magoi was a Southerner, he probably actually had very limited magic. You’re far richer now than any Sintan Magoi noble anyway. You’re Griffin’s brother, and part of the Royal House of Thalyria.”
Carver sighs. “It doesn’t matter what I have now. She’s dead.”
And a vindictive, petty part of me hopes that Konstantina is ruing her terrible choice from the Underworld. “Did she choose him for security only, or was there more?”
His shoulders lift in a small shrug. “I don’t know. Once she made her choice, she wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t explain. Wouldn’t let me near her.”
Probably because she was scared she’d change her mind, and she craved riches and refuge more than she craved Carver. At least in her head. Her heart might have been giving her some serious back talk, which made avoiding him her only option.
“Did you forgive her?” I ask. Carver has been living impaled on a double-edged sword. On one side—loss. On the other—deception and betrayal. Both cut deep. No wonder it’s been slicing him up inside. The only mystery is how he kept it from everyone for so long. I had no idea, and everyone else seemed to think he was fine. Recovered. Before Griffin and I became a solid unit, I was convinced that Carver was an irrepressible flirt, always smiling, always ready for a laugh or a bawdy joke. Then the relationship Griffin and I developed must have reminded Carver of what he’d lost. It made him moody, but he was handling it. Then the Agon Games happened, the Underworld, and Konstantina.
He’s quiet for a long time. He eventually opens his eyes, but only to stare at nothing at all.
Finally, in a voice weighed down by fatigue and emotion, he says, “I didn’t have time to forgive her, or even to see her again. The Magoi took her away, to the city he lives in. I was so angry at first, and too full of pride to chase after her. She died in childbirth eight months after her wedding. The child lived. She didn’t. Then I… For about a year, I acted a lot like this.” He sweeps a hand out, vaguely indicating his jugs of wine and messy tent. “I thought the boy was mine. I finally decided to go and claim him.”
My heart skips a beat, my hand hovering over Carver’s hair. “But you had no right to a child born in wedlock. No authority in Thalyria would honor your claim.”
“I didn’t care. He was mine.”
I bite my lip to keep from arguing more and lightly stroke his head again, my touch feather-soft. “What happened?” I ask when he doesn’t go on.
“I got myself sober and cleaned up and went there, to that big house with guards, fancy gardens, fountains, and all the meaningless things Konstantina wanted more than she wanted me. It was huge and intimidating. They wouldn’t let me in, so I waited. And watched.” Carver’s eyes close, and I’m sure he’s seeing it all in his head again.
“And?” I prompt gently.
“And then I saw him. The boy was as fair and fat as his father, with bright, blue-green eyes. He wasn’t mine.”
I exhale slowly, both relieved and saddened. Knowing Carver, he wanted that piece of the woman he loved, that piece of them together.
“Do I forgive her?” He shakes his head against my legs. “No. I still love her. But I still hate her. It’s tearing me apart.”
I sit there in silence, my heart cracking wide open in my chest. I have nothing profound to say, nothing that will truly help him. My affection and my hand on his head are the best I can offer. He hugs my legs, his head in my lap, and I desperately want to share with him the hope I’ve found. But Elpis doesn’t work that way. Only Carver can know when he reaches the other side of his suffering and is ready to live again.
“Wine won’t help you,” I eventually say.
Silence. And then, “I know.”
“Can I take it away?”
He clears his throat. His arms tighten around my legs, but then he nods. “Give it to Bellanca.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because I avoid her at all costs.”
An unexpected laugh cracks out of me. “She’s that bad?”
Carver actually smiles. It’s small, barely moving his mouth, but I still see it. “Maybe not. But when I want a drink tonight, I’ll think twice about going to get it.”
“And if you give in to the urge, she won’t give it back.” I know her well enough now to know that.
He chuckles, genuine humor rounding out the sound. “She’ll do something to distract me. Lecture me for a while. Kick me a few times. Probably set me on fire.”
“Then it’s a good thing you won’t be steeped in spirits,” I say dryly. “You’d go up in a snap.”
Carver straightens, dragging his face off my thighs. There are crease marks on his cheek and temple. His hair is completely flattened on one side and sticking straight up on the other where my fingers have been working through it. He’s still as handsome as they come, strong, loyal, and funny. I can’t understand Konstantina. How could she turn her back on a man like Carver? Did she regret it? Did she care that she was shattering him in the process?
I reach out and touch his whiskered cheek. “The people in your family love with everything they have. Look at your parents. At Griffin and me. You.” I don’t mention his sisters, even though their devotion is just as strong. The loves they’re harboring and the people they’re harboring them for aren’t any of Carver’s business until they decide it is. “But you made a mistake.”
His eyes search mine, questioning. He doesn’t draw away from my hand.
“You didn’t choose wisely. You gave your love to someone who wouldn’t, or couldn’t, give theirs fully back. Choose better next time. It’ll be worth it. It’ll change everything.”
He swallows. “You think there’ll be a next time?”
I nod.