“That is not up to you to decide,” she shouted. “You cannot demote me simply because I choose to leave the abuses of this realm to protect our people.”
His eyes cut at her. “Is that what you think this kingdom has done to you?”
She clenched her jaw, not wanting to start with hearing the manipulation she knew was coming. “What I think…” She paused and shook her head, allowing the emptiness she’d felt these last years to wash through her.
“You’ve been raping me since we turned fourteen. Threatening to end my life simply because our mother spent more time with me, because you were jealous. I amsorryshe treated you as such. I am sorry she turned you into this person and made you feel inferior. But… I cannot blame myself for it any longer. We promised to love each other, to be better. We promised each other we would not be the kings of our past. And now look at you—”
“How would you know what love is?”
She paused, biting back the lump in her throat, and she shook her head at the floor. “I know it is not anything I have ever felt whilst living here in these walls,” she managed. “You have become your own poison, Rhaif. I cannot stand to be swallowed whole by your fury.”
He stared at her a moment. “Then I am sure your sister will—”
Her blade pulled from her waist and she shoved it beneath his jaw before he could blink. “You dare touch our sister… I will kill you.”
“Then do it,” he dared. “Strike me down as you know you want to. Secure your place as High Queen. Take what you have long waited for.”
“I have never wanted the High crown. I have never thirsted for the power as you do.”
“Then what do you want, sister?”
She released him as hot iron burning her skin, and his feet clapped on the floor upon his landing. She took a step back, feeling herself blink back the bewildered feeling in her core.
“Freedom,” she breathed.
Her crown thudded on the stone floor at his feet.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
HER PALMS WIPED her face harshly as she emerged from the doors, her head feeling empty, core void of the queenly title she’d grown to know. Draven’s eyes narrowed as she descended down the steps to his side.
“Where is your—” Draven paused from placing the bags on the saddle and stared at her as his face began to pale. “Your crown. Where is it?”
“Forgotten,” she said sternly. “I can protect my people just as well without a crown as I can with one,” she said as she took up tacking on the bag to the saddle.
“Wait—what?” Draven reached for her arm and whirled her back around, his eyes widened at what she’d just said. She swallowed the tears threatening her eyes.
“I am no longer Aydra Ravenspeak, Promised Queen,” she managed. “I am simply a daughter of Arbina, a survivor of Magnice.”
“He took your crown?”
Aydra didn’t respond.
“That crown is your birth—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she interjected softly. “What’s done is done.”
She met his eyes, and he swallowed hard.
“Then I feel no hesitation in offering you refuge within my realm, my Queen,” he said as he took her hand in his and kissed her palm.
“I am not a queen,” she whispered.
“You’re the only one of your past siblings to have ever earned the title,” he breathed back.
“You’re just saying that—”
“You should know well by now I do not say any words simply because of what I feel for you,” he interjected. “I would have said it a year ago.”
