I watch him realize what I’d thought was happening. I watch the connection sizzle across him, his gaze going to his hand, to my lifted arms—my thumb, with Hex’s skull ring—to Kris, on the ground.
Dad’s glare goes blank.
I’m standing in front of Kris but I’m standing in front of Hex too and I’m more barricade than person.
Kris climbs to his feet. I hear him say my name, muffled, a soft plea.
Still unreadable, Dad pulls a small tablet out of a pocket on his suit coat and hits a button. “Wren.”
A static crackle. Then, “Yes, sir?”
“Have the Halloween Prince begin packing. He is no longer welcome in my palace.”
A beat. “Yes, sir.”
Dad shoves the tablet back into his coat.
His gaze is on the wall behind my head. He speaks to it. “You will marry Iris.” His voice is entirely emotionless. He, who can conjure emotion at will to appease cameras, has none to show us now. “You will shore up Easter for us. It is the least you can do to fix what you have damaged.”
“Don’t blame this on Hex,” I say, brokenly. “I’ll do it. Just… stop.”
Dad twists to me. His eyes are bloodshot, maybe, or I just want to see something like regret in him. “Everything you’ve done, and that’s all you have to say?”
I lower my hands. It’s the only response I give.
“Send those letters rescinding your invitations, stop interfering in matters that do not concern you, and there will be no repercussions,” he says.
Dad steps around Kris and me. I flinch; I can’t help it, all my senses have been ripped to the surface of my skin.
He leaves, door shutting behind him.
I thought I could change things.
Me.
And I almost got Kris—
I can’t think. Can’t find it in me to do anything that could fix this—why can’t Ifix this—
I hear Kris texting. Then Iris is here, and she’s next to me on my bed, arm around me.
Kris swings a chair close and sits in front of me. “Coal? Say something.”
I sniff and shake my head, at nothing, at everything. “I have to go.”
Iris tightens her grip on me. “Coal—”
“I have togo.” I shove out of bed, but Kris rises up to meet me and doesn’t step aside.
It’s going to gut me, looking into his eyes. So I do.
His are strained. Downright desolate.
Iwas the one to drag us here, because of course I would be. Even when I try to change, Ifuck it all up.
“I have to go,” I beg him.
His jaw works. He dips his head and steps aside.
