Something warm trickled down her face, and she instinctively lifted her gaze to the broken mirror hangingbeside her, nearly springing away at what looked back at her.
She was so pale. Hair hanging lifelessly around her face, more brown than golden now.
A dark stream of blood wove its way from her nose, and though she quickly wiped it off, it left a pink trail over her dull skin that she’d need water to remove because her mouth was too dry right now.
Her eyes, though… There was defiance in them.
A golden ember of rage that she felt deep in the pit of her stomach.
A smoldering fragment of life. Of fight. Of rebellion.
Even after Trista no longer led Vastala, she stayed to keep her people safe.
Lessia clenched her jaw as she averted her gaze.
She couldn’t stand it. Because that fight burning through her? The urge she had?
Sometimes we must accept what our reflection tells us… even if that reflection is one of shadows and darkness and a life we’ve never wished for.
Aixle stood with his back to her, and Lessia wondered for a moment how he could tell… but then her mind went to everything he’d told them today, and she decided it didn’t matter.
Instead, she thought of the Lakes of Mirrors—the reflections there she’d refused to accept, the ones the gods had tried to force onto her. Then her mind snagged on the reflections of her family… of her friends dying in that mirror she’d shattered on the ship before the last battle.
The memories made her even more furious, and she fought the impulse to just scream.
How fucking dare the gods force her into thisimpossible choice? How fucking dare they turn her into either a coward or a martyr?
The gods warped our view of ourselves and the world long before we were aware of it.Aixle came toward her, offering her a cup of warm tea that she somehow knew to lift to her lips, and she sighed softly as the heat filled her gut.But Elessia… like fate, only we may decide what to do with what we’re offered. It’s only we who can decide who looks back at us in that mirror, and whether we can live with that person.
Lessia kept her eyes on the swirling tea as she nodded. She was glad the cup wasn’t brittle as her fingers tightened around it, the tide of rage rising within her urging her to throw it across the room.
Do it.
She looked up at Aixle, barely able to stop herself from baring her teeth at him.What did you say?
I said, Do it. Throw it.Aixle’s hands flew out.It is unfair. I wish… I do not wish for this for you and Merrick, but after this little time with you… it is so clear why you belong together. Despite everything he thinks of himself, he is also selfless. Loyal. A true soldier.
Lessia’s lip trembled, not because tears burned behind her eyes but because it really wasn’t fucking fair. She didn’t know what?—
Throw it!
She did. With all her might, she threw the damn tea across the room. The cup shattered against the stone fireplace like her heart had shattered so many times before—like she’d broken and broken and broken.
But now… this time…
Her eyes flew over the pieces littering the floor—the helplessness ofthem, and she realized?—
Lessia frowned as she looked up at Aixle.
You know what to do.A sad smile pulled Aixle’s pale lips upward.And so does he.
Lessia peeked out the open door, realizing Merrick was on his way back, and she didn’t hesitate as she stepped into the night.
More drums sounded in the distance now, the sound enveloping them, building on that anger already flowing through her veins, and Lessia’s chin was lifted high as she stopped Merrick a few feet from the crumbling stone cabin.
He smiled at her, one of the precious, genuine grins she always subconsciously stored in her mind, and she waited for it to take her breath. Perhaps kill her for what she must do.
But then Merrick reached out and took her hand. “Let’s go.”
