You have one.
Well, please—clue me in.
Her tail curls around me.You don’t fear the young king. You don’t fear war. What you fear is yourself.
I stare into her glowing green eyes.That’s ridiculous.
Is it? There is darkness and light in us all. The only way to see to the bottom is to look. You fear the darkness. You fear the shadows. But you are the shadows. And you are the light.
Maybe I do need it. Maybe I need the darkness in order to see the light.
If I look…if I stare into that darkness, I’m afraid of what I’ll find.
I’ve always hated that part of myself. That well of feminine rage, that secret desire for chaos. I’ve kept it locked tight. But now…
Now is the time to look. You cannot do what is required of you without first facing the beast that looks back.
70
JACE
12 DAYS
Derek’s study is as he left it. His scent still lingers in the air, clinging to the scrolls of parchment neatly stacked on his desk. On the last book he read, splayed facedown on the smooth wooden surface. My finger trails along the edge, where already a light layer of dust has begun to congregate.
I couldn’t bring myself to move anything. To touch anything. I’ve ordered the maids not to enter, either. As if keeping everything as it is would negate the truth of the way things are. That this room no longer belongs to him. It belongs to me. And I’m expected to do all he did. Be all that he was.
An impossible task.
A knock on the door shatters my reverie.
“Come,” I command.
A steward pushes into the room and bows, a small stack of cream envelopes in his hand—each sealed with a crimson press. “Letters, Sire, from Vod.”
I stalk around the desk, snatching them from his shaky grasp.
They’re addressed to theQueen of Vod.
She’s been back two days and already the bastard has written her a pile of letters?
Snarling, I rip open the first, and my eyes land on curling black ink.
My dearest wife,
News of our impending nuptials has spread throughout the land. Our people are eager. Too long have they been without a queen. I trust your affairs are in order. I patiently await your return.
Adoringly yours,
Kylian
I toss the letter aside in lieu of the second.
My love,
The days are long without you, the nights, infinite. The halls are dull. I grow tired of the views. Without you in the frame, the cliffs have lost their majesty. The sea no longer dazzles beneath the sun. The sand is cool, and the palms wither and sag. Even the wine is more bitter.
A fortnight has never before felt like an eternity.
