A question had stuck in my mind since the night I’d helped Helene and Isabel escape. And now that this whole charade was almost over, what did I have to lose by asking it?
“The tunnel,” I began, the words thick in my throat. “You said your family used it to help rebel supporters flee Aquinon seven years ago.”
Melaena nodded.
I took a deep breath. “Why didn’t the Mendacis family use it? You must’ve known them.”
She blinked, her expression vacillating between confusion, shock, then sad understanding. “It was you, wasn’t it?” she asked softly. “The girl Julian was secretly seeing.”
Hearing his name struck me like a fist to my chest. I didn’t confirm, averting my eyes to stare at the tapestry.
“He never told anyone your name, only that he was in love with a girl and didn’t want to leave her behind.”
Yet I always seem to be the one left behind.My face crumpled with pain, despite my best efforts.
Melaena slid over to my couch and pulled my head to rest on her shoulder as she rubbed my arms. “No wonder he didn’t want to tell us who you were. A royal servant and the son of a rebel.” She shook her head, her long beaded earrings brushing over my cheek.
No. A princess and a traitor. That’s how Father put it before ordering the Mendacis family execution.
“My father tried many times to convince his father to leave,” Melaena said, her voice shaky. “But Julian’s father wouldn’t listen. Insisted it was his gods-given duty to stand up to the crown for the people’s sake. He asked us to take his family—his wife, Julian, and the two girls. But... they refused. Renwell rounded them up two days later.”
“I know the rest,” I said quickly, not wanting to relive it.
Melaena’s throat bobbed. “Julian was my friend. A year younger than me, but we learned from the same Teachers, went to the same parties, knew the same people.”
A worm of jealousy burrowed into my gut. She had more time with him. She hadn’t had to hide her friendship with him. I’d met Julian at one of the few open gatherings we’d had at the palace before Father closed it off to everyone but his most trusted officials and nobles.
But Julian had loved me. He’d wanted to stay for me. He’d wanted to stand up to Father the way his father did.
The last time we spoke, I’d told him he was a fool, that he should run. He refused.
But now, perhaps, I was the fool. Caring for Aiden and the others the way I did. My love for Julian was the one of the reasons he was killed. I didn’t want to do the same to Aiden or anyone else.
I leaned away from Melaena. “I need to stop Aiden,” I whispered. “Tell me how to do it.”
Her mouth dropped open, a tear still trickling down her cheek. “What do you mean, Kiera? Why would you want to stop him?”
I growled with impatience, shooting to my feet and pacing the room. “I don’t want to stop Everett becoming king. I want to keep Aiden from getting killed.” I aimed a heavy glance at her. “Like Julian.”
Her face cleared, and she gave me a sympathetic smile. “Because you love him.”
I twitched away from the word. I wasn’t sure what I felt. There were too many knives—too many lies and secrets—embedded in my feelings.
She sighed. “I don’t think youcanstop him. Aiden... well, you’ve seen him, heard him. He’d give his life for the sake of Rellmira.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to keep from happening!”
She threw up her hands. “And I’m saying he has no fear for his life at this point. The number of setbacks he’s overcome, everything at stake, the vengeance that’s been haunting him for years... He won’t stop. Maybe not even for you.”
I froze.Not for his life. Not even if I asked.
But what about everyone else’s lives?
Renwell knew what day Aiden planned to attack, thanks to me. He could set up any number of precautions. If Aiden knew his plan was at risk, would he stop it? Retreat to fight another day?
Dread punched me low in the stomach. The only way to convince Aiden his plan was in jeopardy was to tell him what I’d done. Who I was.
And pray that he wouldn’t kill me like Renwell thought he would.
