“You—you’re lying,” I whisper. But I know my own words are far more likely to be the lie. Because Nyra doesn’t lie.
Never.
Before Nyra can say more, a slender hand wraps around her hip and pulls her back against something behind her. Another hand wraps around her, and the person holds her intimately.
“Who are you talking to, love?” Vanitee whispers against my sister’s neck.
“No one,” she says.
And my heart sinks even more.
It’s clear then that nothing I thought I knew was true.
Not even about myself.
TWENTY-THREE
DOMINEERING
“You’ve been staringat the wall since before I woke up...” Avian shifts uneasily on his feet, and Roman takes a long look at me before he slips out the bedroom door after Zilo. Worry creases his brow, but he and I both know he doesn’t have time to pause and dwell on me any longer than he already has.
Not when there’s a shitshow kingdom—queendom—to attend to.
The door clicks closed so softly that I find myself lingering on the empty sound of it long after the two of them are gone.
Nyra lost her son. Her son and her husband. All because of me. If I was her, I’d kill me. And she’s made an attempt almost every day to speak kindly to me. To show that we’re sisters above anything else.
But no matter how far down you try to push bitterness down, it always simmers back up. This morning was a showing of all those emotions she’s tried to ignore. They came crashing out with year’s worth of choked back tears.
And more secrets than I was ready for.
“Cersia,” Avian whispers.
The bed dips, and then his warm hand is against mine.
“What’s wrong?” When I finally meet his pale gray eyes, he’s searching my face for things he can’t see but most definitely can sense in mysterious ways.
“I—” I don’t know how to put it into words...
All the things come shoving through my mind: I ruined my sister’s life. She’s sleeping with the enemy. I’m not who I thought I was. I’m not a shifter. I’m not beautifully blessed ... I’m...
“I’m ordinary,” I whisper with so much sadness weighting my words, I feel them sinking right back down deep into my chest.
I’m not ready to talk about the way Nyra looked at me like she hated me. But the basic parts of me that are lacking, that’s something I can admit to.
“What?”
“I—I—I’m not even beautiful. It was a lie. My mother lied. I’m not—I’m not beautiful,” I shriek the ridiculous thoughts out so fast that I can’t even make sense of them.
And it’s clear when I look at Avian’s uneasy and lost features that he can’t either.
“Cers, you’re... of course you’re beautiful.” He pulls me against him and starts stroking my hair the way you would an arrogant, hissing cat. “You know you’re beautiful. What—what the hell are you talking about?”
A pathetic sniffle sneaks out before I can stop it, and in the ugliest pent-up voice I can muster, I say, “But I’m notthe most beautiful. I’m average beautiful. Maybe a bit above average at best, but that’s it. You know?” I peer up at him with my duck lips quivering from the tears I’m choking back, and he just stares so blankly at me.
A beat passes as he holds me tensely like he’s holding together the last of my wavering brain cells in his very arms.
“Cers, love, I have no idea what you’re saying. Did you hit your head in the middle of the night?”
