There was a tightening in my throat, and I made myself look away before I fell to my knees and spilled all my secrets out of shame. I didn’t deserve Darren in moments like this. A mumbled “thank you” was all I managed before I quietly left the table, the king busy in conversation with a visiting lord.
I wandered the halls, not bothering to admire the palace decor with its vibrant tapestries and gold-plated pillars. I’d seen enough of it in the months after the Candidacy. Everywhere I looked, sconces lit the way. I only wanted shadows. Even my dress was one bright flare of incriminating light with its cream yellow skirts and a gold and orange beaded bodice. The dress was the most beautiful thing I’d ever worn—or seen, for that matter—but the color was a constant reminder of just hours before and the revelation that came with it.
Ten minutes later, I found myself at the entrance of my chamber, which had been transformed over the course of an evening into a sitting room by the servants.
Gone were my oaken trunks and the beautiful cherry wood bed against the wall. Now there was a private table and cushioned benches to share with my husband. The only thing that had remained the same was the small adjoining room with its tub and chamber pot.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring. It was just one more thing that would never be the same.
With my barest casting, the flickering candlelight ceased, and I was ensconced in darkness. I reached around, not bothering to turn, and shut the door behind. My knuckles remained locked on the handle, holding it in place as my chest rose and fell, the mask crumbling away.
I held onto that door as time passed. Ten minutes, an hour? I lost count in the tears that followed. I was choking on air, and it made no difference. There was no such thing as time. A couple minutes here and there wouldn’t make up for everything I knew. They wouldn’t make up for the weight of the world or the crimes I intended to commit for the good of the many, but at the expense of a few.
I didn’t know how I was going to find the proof my brother had missed. I didn’t know if I could convince the rebels I had joined their cause when I was a part of the Crown. Even my twin didn’t trust me. And Pythus and the Borea Isles? How was I ever going to convince them to go against the New Alliance, the treaty Blayne had managed to secure following his father’s death and my marriage to his brother? How was a young woman supposed to convince a king and an emperor of two neighboring countries to betray a pact they had struck up with her country? Even if I came bearing proof, would they listen?
I should have drunk the wine, I realized. I’d never had a taste for it, but at least it would have numbed all these feelings. All this fear. It would have been something to push it all away, even for a little while. I had thought I would feel better in the freeing cover of darkness, but in some ways, the release only made it worse.
Perhaps the sensation would get better with time. But I didn’t have time. Hours were slipping by, and if what the advisors were saying was true, then we had six weeks until the Caltothians set their ships for sail and eight before their barges arrived on our shore. Our armies would march on Caltoth not long after.
The old me wanted to revert to the broken shade after Derrick’s death, that girl who had been a wandering ghost, resigning herself to despair and going about her days in a haze.
It was so much easier to be broken than strong.
2
He found me later that night, huddled against the wall of my old chamber, clutching my knees.
His magic sent off light to the sconces, and the next thing I knew, he was kneeling in front of me, his mouth opening and closing in a silent succession of words. His hands pressed into my shoulders, shaking me, but when I tried to explain, nothing would come out.
I must have been crying, because his thumb brushed my cheek, and when he pulled it away, there was a look of confusion.
When I saw the tears, I realized that today, already, I had managed to fail. Darren was never supposed to see me cry.
“I wasn’t supposed to see you cry?” The words were spoken inches from my face, and I realized he was repeating what I must have said aloud.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Ryiah, why are you apologizing?”
“Because…” My voice caught. It would be so easy to tell him the truth.
“Because you are still in mourning?” Darren swallowed, the lump in his throat rising. “Ryiah, Derrick might have been a traitor, but he was also your brother. Gods, if it had been Blayne…”
He was trying to help, but he had only made it worse. I tried my best to wipe my eyes, but the prince caught my hand in his.
“Please,” he whispered, “don’t hide from me, not like this. I know with today, not having your family here and what happened to Derrick… Ryiah, I don’t want you to go through this alone.”
He was so good, and his only fault was loving his brother—a crime I had committed just the same.
I made myself nod as the prince helped me to my feet.