Tobiah’s voice was rough, barely recognizable as he glanced down at my dress. “You haven’t changed.”
I hadn’t moved since I dropped into a chair at the table in the sitting room. What would I have done anyway? Tidied my quarters? Written a letter? I should have at least lit a fire; now all the rooms were cold.
“Did the injured guards”—I swallowed hard—“did they make it?”
“Connor helped the ones who wouldn’t have otherwise.” Tobiah stood by the door, unmoving, while James prowled the perimeter, checking inside the other rooms. For intruders? For the wraith boy? Finally, he lit a fire, filling the room with the rush and crackle of flame, and then took up a post by the music room door. “A few protested because they wouldn’t be saved by a flasher whose kind had created that thing, but I insisted. I told them it wouldn’t make a difference anymore. Not at this point.”
“I’m glad they’re going to live.” The words were thoughtless. Glad was an emotion I couldn’t remember anymore, like relief or hope. It was as though that knot of agony watching Tobiah’s wedding had exploded, and now every feeling I’d ever felt lay flat and dead at the soles of my feet. Useless, except to weigh me down. “Prince Colin will use that decision against you, though.”
“He doesn’t know about it.”
Which meant Tobiah’s recovery was still safe. And James’s? Secret because no one had a clue what happened to him.
“There’s been a rider from West Pass Watch.” Tobiah stared westward, as though he could see the wraithland from here. “The wraith is flooding across the mountains, and only a few hours away from West Pass Watch by horse. And in the south, another village has been swallowed.”
I closed my eyes and exhaled. I’d known this was inevitable. “He said it would come faster.”
“He said a lot of things.” Tobiah stepped closer to the table, to me, as though approaching a wild animal. “He said there would be consequences. This was one of those consequences, wasn’t it?” He almost sounded gentle, but a bitter note grew. “Meredith didn’t deserve this. She was a good woman. Kind. Generous. Forgiving.” He choked on the last word.
“I know.” She’d been my friend. Or could have, if I’d let her.
I dropped my gaze to the table again; my eyes were too dry and swollen, and I didn’t want to meet Tobiah’s. I didn’t want to see the disgust. The disappointment. The hatred.
“She liked you. She told me several times.” He drew a ragged breath. “Saints, Wilhelmina. I wish you had sent him back to the wraithland as soon as he became solid.” As though there were a way to go back in time and change everything.
“I thought we might need him,” I whispered. Heat from the fire pressed at me, suffocating. “I thought we could learn from him. And I felt . . . obligated to him. My magic did something unexpected when it brought him to life, and how could I dismiss him so easily? He was my responsibility.”
Even Meredith would have insisted.
“But you can’t just bring things to life, Wilhelmina. There are always consequences.”
“I didn’t expect it would be this.” My throat constricted and the words came strangled. “I didn’t think he would go this far.”
“Didn’t you?” He dropped to the chair next to me, voice low and urgent. “Don’t tell me you weren’t dreading today. I know you were, because I was, too. But you can’t allow your pet wraith to kill people because you don’t like what they’re doing.”
“I didn’t want him to kill her. I didn’t want him to do anything.”
“But he did! And he did it for you. Didn’t you hear? He said that I’m yours now, like I’m a prize to be claimed.”
I shook my head. “No, I—”
“You didn’t want her to be killed. I know. Just like you didn’t want my father to be killed, but Patrick did it anyway. For you. For your kingdom. For your revenge.”
“No!” I slammed my fists on the table. “I didn’t want either of them to kill in my name.”
“But they did. Whether or not you asked, they did it for you, and you let them.”
“I didn’t let them do anything.”
“Then how did this happen? Twice!”
Tears burned my eyes. “I can’t help what other people decide to do; if I could, you’d have followed your heart, rather than married someone because you were told.”
He hesitated.
“It wasn’t as if you didn’t already know how I felt. You knew before I did.” My eyes throbbed with grief, and I blinked back more tears. “It wouldn’t have mattered. You’d already agreed to it, and I was merely a distraction. I knew that. I accepted that.”
“Marrying her was the last thing my father ever asked me to do. Surely you remember; you were eavesdropping.”