It didn’t matter what she felt. They had a job to do and Cullen was part of it. Just because she couldn’t trust him with her heart didn’t mean she couldn’t trust him with her life. As it turned out, the latter was far harder to break.
He wasn’t in the common room and Eira paced while she waited. She rounded the sofa positioned before a humble stone hearth and then around a table and two benches, carving a figure-eight into the floor with her feet. As she walked, she practiced her words.
“Cullen, what you did was unforgivable—no, no.” She swallowed thickly and tried to start again. “What you did hurt me more than any man I have ever known. It was worse than Adam. Not as bad as Ferro, obviously, but—I’m losing the point.” Eira stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. “Get it together, Eira; he’s going to be here any second. This doesn’t have to be hard.
“Cullen, you hurt me, and I don’t know yet if I forgive you, but I’m going to try. And in the meantime we need to work together. So let’s put the rest aside and ignore it, for now, and be civil… That works, right?” she asked herself. It was simple and clear. But the idea of saying it to his face made her insides liquefy and threaten to come up her throat.
Her hands trembled slightly as she dropped them to her sides. She had gone up against Pillars. She had killed Ferro in front of the nobility of five different nations. And yet…this terrified her to her core. This hurt worse than any wound, because she didn’t yet know how she would heal it.
Shaking her head, she turned for the stairs to go back up. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Maybe later.
Then again, if she waited it would only get worse. How could she march into the opening ceremonies even near him without clearing the air some? Maybe—
A heavy thud interrupted her thoughts. The front door opened without warning, revealing Cullen at the other end of the hall in all his noble glory. He was already dressed for the occasion—finery and jewels draped over him fitting of the opening ceremonies. Fitting of a lord.
His clothing had had the most modifications out of all of theirs. Eira would look like the pauper she was, compared to him. Instead of a pastel purple, his tunic was a deep violet that accented the tan hue of his skin. His black trousers underneath tucked into shiny, leather boots, skimming close to his legs and leaving very, very little to the imagination. From the high collar of his tunic to the tightly tailored arms that tucked into his bracers, to the golden pin of the Solaris sun on his breast, he looked every measure of a champion. Achingly handsome in an almost-too-perfect kind of way.
Just one look at him, and part of her wanted to ignore all that had happened. Damn the consequences. She’d run to him, throwher arms around his neck, and tell him to tell her that he still loved her. That it was all a bad dream.
Eira pushed the wild thoughts from her mind. She couldn’t look at him that way any longer. He was just a friend now—fellow competitor. Nothing more. She couldn’t and wouldn’t allow it to be anything more.
“Eira?” he said softly, almost with the sound of relief creeping into her name.
She was suddenly aware of how quiet the house was. How still the air had become. There were no sounds of Noelle and Alyss upstairs, or attendants outside, or the creaking of carriages leaving Champion Village, just the rushing of blood through her ears. The frigid stillness that defined the gap between them.
She steeled herself and wasted no time. If she backed down now, she might never find the nerve. “We need to talk.”
5
He stared at her for several long seconds. His throat constricted as he swallowed hard. She could almost feel the air shift around him as he gathered his nerve. His magic pulsed just at the sound of her voice.
“All right, let’s talk.”
“Why don’t we step outside?” she suggested. The walls didn’t seem particularly thick and she decided in an instant that she didn’t want to have this conversation with Alyss and Noelle right above them.
“Lead the way.”
Eira led him down the hall, through the meager common area, and out the back door into a fenced-off area between their house and the tall, stone wall that surrounded Champion Village. She wrapped her arms around herself, fending off the chill that had arrived with his presence.
“What would you like to speak about?” Cullen said softly, pulling her back to the present. Eira wasn’t sure how long her mind had been wandering.
“I…” She had been practicing, but now that he was in front of her, Eira lost all track of what she’d wanted,neededto say. Now there was just him, and her. Alone.
Cullen dipped his chin slightly to meet her eyes, waiting expectantly. The wind highlighted the gap between them. Emphasizing just how far apart they were.
Eira sighed, trying to exhale all the rage and hurt she still felt from looking at him. All the longing and tiny tendrils of love that tried to keep digging their thorny barbs into her. “Listen, what happened between us—”
“I’m going to talk to my father,” he interjected hastily. They’d gone from total silence to trying to speak over each other.
“What?” Eira was so caught off guard that she couldn’t string together a coherent question.
“I’ve already started crafting a plan, laying it in motion with all the necessary players. Once it all comes to pass, we’ll call off the engagement.”Not this again. Her heart couldn’t take it. But she couldn’t stop him either as he slowly approached, holding out his hands as if pleading. “And until then, it’s just you and me here. My father can’t get into Champion Village. We’re free of him and things can be like they were.” Cullen took her limp hands in his. Trying to lace his fingers with hers to no success. No matter how much she wanted to reciprocate, she couldn’t allow herself. Even if not doing so caused every inch of her to ache.
Eira forced herself to retract from him. As warm as he was, and as much as she wanted to feel the smooth pads of his fingers run across her skin once more, the fantasy was broken. His eyes weren’t bright with hope, but delusion. It didn’t matter how much passion still ignited between them with a look.
“Your father isn’t here, butsheis.”Lavette. No matter how much thought she’d given to it in the carriage, how hard she’d been working in a few short hours to try and accept things as they were, Eira still couldn’t even manage to say the name of his betrothed in front of him. It was taking all the fragile control she had to keep her composure. Just the woman’s name mightsnap it in two. “We can’t be like we were just because your father isn’t here. It was never him, Cullen. It wasyou. What you did, are doing; you’re still engaged to her and nothing else matters unless that has changed.”
“And I will change it,” he insisted.
