“I’m sorry, Orla. What did you say?”
My friend cups my hand between both of hers as if to shelter it, the warmth of her translucent skin thawing the dead chill of mine. “You are sad.”
It is true. I think a part of my heart died in that cave. “Orla,” I whisper. “I need help.”
“Of course you do,” she says kindly, as though having expected this all along. “There’s no shame to it.”
“I don’t know what to do. I’m confused.”
Following the collapse of the cave, Pallas and his men dug me, Boreas, and Zephyrus out of the wreckage. They carried me to Alba, who healed my broken leg and wrist. Zephyrus, they tossed into the cells beneath the citadel. Yesterday, Orla informed me Boreas freed his brother, for whatever reason. In my opinion, he should have ended his miserable life.
The things Zephyrus did to Boreas in that cave… The horrors will not vanish. Every time I close my eyes I relive his suffering, the choice he made: his power, or my life. And he chose me. It was never even a question.
Orla wipes my face with a clean cloth. “You love the lord.”
Her words nearly stop my heart. But there is no denying it. “Yes.”
“Well.” She clucks her tongue in a motherly fashion, and even in my distress, I feel a wave of fondness move through me. “Then you must tell him.”
The thought makes me want to do something rash like, oh, toss myself from the window. “I can’t do that.”
“And why not?”
“Because I’m the reason his power is gone.” I will not think of the declaration he made in the cave. Boreas would have said whatever he thought I needed to hear in order to leave him behind. If our positions had been reversed, why, I would have done the same.
“I must disagree with you. I have known the lord for a long time.” She smiles, and it’s so gentle I might weep. “Since your arrival, I have seen him come alive again. He may be a man of few words, but I believe what he feels for you is plain.”
“Perhaps he loved me once, but now…” The idea strikes me like a fist to the heart.
She huffs. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
“Orla,” I snap. “This isn’t funny.”
“I’m sorry.” She does not sound the least bit apologetic. “But you are so stubborn sometimes. And blind. Stubborn and blind.” A wistful sighs escapes her. “Do you remember when you fled the citadel?”
“Of course.” For as long as I live, I will never forget that night.
“You were very ill when you returned. Your withdrawal symptoms were quite severe, yet I have never seen the lord so devoted. He washed your skin while your fever climbed. He gave you water at all hours. He did not leave your bedside once.”
I shake my head, too overwhelmed to contemplate the truth of Orla’s words. Boreas doesn’t love me. He can’t. I’ve caused him nothing but frustration, misery, and harm since I arrived.
I burned his curtains.
“You are worthy of love, you know,” my maid whispers.
My throat tightens around the lump of feeling lodged there. I’m a mess, always have been. My emotions are too tangled, my edges too rough. And that is when I’m completely sober.
“I tried to kill him,” I point out. “Multiple times.”
Orla doesn’t even appear fazed by this. Has she known all along of my deception?
“And?”
My face twists in confusion. “And that’s a problem, I think.” No, it’s definitely a problem. What if I had succeeded? What if I hadn’t realized in time how wrong my prejudice had steered me? I could have killed the only man I’ve ever loved and—
“Breathe, my lady.” Orla’s warm, soft hand settles on my back. My breath stutters in its attempt to slow. “People show love in different ways. I’m certain if you told the lord how you felt, he would return the sentiment. Your hearts are one and the same.”
And what if he doesn’t? How humiliating that would be. “You speak as though love is a simple concept. On the contrary, I cannot think of anything more complicated.”
