“I wasn’t talking to you,” I spit at him. My attention returns to Elora. “Well?”
My sister’s gaze flits to Boreas, as though afraid he will strike without warning. Her lips part, trembling, then press flat. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. This is my home, and I… I decide what isacceptable or not. My reasoning stands. So please, just go.” She begins to shut the door when Boreas moves.
A shriek erupts from Elora as he fills the doorway, that immortal grace allowing him to move between blinks, like shadow and wind. He shoves his boot against the jamb, his height and breadth engulfing the entrance. Elora falls back against Shaw’s chest. Her husband’s arms come around her, hands crossed over her stomach protectively.
Boreas says, slow and cold, “I will remain outside, if that is what you wish, but you will speak to Wren. As her sister, you will give her the courtesy and respect she deserves.”
Elora looks close to fainting. And I have the ridiculous urge to cackle until my lungs shrivel up.
I rest a hand against the king’s back, and he retreats, giving me space to step forward and retake control of the situation. “In case you were wondering,” I tell Elora, “you do not have a choice in this. I’m not leaving until you’ve heard what I have to say.”
“Fine.” She huffs through her nostrils, having regained some dignity. “Wren, you may come inside. We can discuss whatever it is you wish to discuss.”
“If you expect my husband to wait outside in the cold—”
“He’s theFrost King—”
“I don’t care!” I bark, vibrating from the ferocity lashing through my bloodstream.
Elora’s eyes widen. She is afraid of me. She does not know who I am. For too long I have lived with these sharp edges. I was too rough, too forward, not gentle enough, not obedient enough, not kind enough, not soft enough. I was the woman with a scarred face and willing body. I was confined to the shade while Elora was granted the sun.
“You’ve changed,” she whispers.
Have I? Or am I at last set free?
“All my life I cared for you,” I whisper to my twin. “It was my greatest pride, providing for you. There was nothing I would not do for you. Nothing. I sold my body for coin, risked life and limb fighting darkwalkers, hiked hundreds of miles searching for food.I never complained, not once in all those long, difficult years.” My voice thickens. By the gods, I will not break. Not until I am far away from here, not until I’ve said my piece.
“You called me selfish,” I continue. “You, who have made no attempts to lift a finger your entire life, dared to call me selfish?”
Something like guilt flashes through her eyes, and I wonder if Elora made the conscious decision to remain quiet, ignorant of my choices, to avoid living a burdensome life. Before, I would not have believed it. Now I am certain it is true.
“That you can stand here and judge me for the choice I made—a choice to protectyou—reveals how weak your character is. Yes, I lied to you. Yes, I left without saying goodbye. But I was willing to die so that you could live, because I loved you more than anything in the world. Can you say the same?”
Elora disentangles herself from Shaw’s hold. “I tried, Wren. I really did. But over the years, the drinking grew worse—”
My stomach drops. Boreas growls at my back.
“—and caring for me seemed to give you some stability—”
“No.” My hand cuts the air. “You will not shame me. You will not use my faults as a scapegoat for your selfishness and inaction. I have reflected on my past behavior, and while I understand it caused you pain, you refuse to take accountability for your actions, and that is the reason I am standing here.”
Boreas moves to stand by my side: quiet, restrained, loyal, unflinching. Elora’s mouth quivers, and she bites her bottom lip.
“You’re right,” she says. “My comment was uncalled for. If you wish to make amends, then let us discuss.”
“I’m not here to make amends.” I am far beyond that. “You have a choice. If you cannot accept the reasons for my actions, acceptme, then I see no reason to continue this relationship. You can live your life bearing the guilt of having turned away the one person who has always loved you. If, however, you wish to keep me in your life, you will accept our invitation to attend a party tomorrow evening.”
Elora swallows. “In the Deadlands?”
“Yes. Shaw is welcome, too, of course.”
They exchange a wordless glance. Shaw then asks, “How will that work?”
“A boat will meet you at the Les. Once you cross through the Shade, you will be provided mounts that will take you to the citadel. You need not worry about your wellbeing, or of your child’s wellbeing. As my guests, you will be granted the highest protections. Should you decide not to attend,” I say, “then we no longer have anything to say to one another.” And that will be something else I must carry, something I must grieve.
Elora’s face falls. “Wren—”
“I wish you happiness in your life. It is all I’ve ever wanted for you. I only wish you wanted the same for me.”
