‘Aya …’ Will stepped toward her, but she stepped out of his grasp.
‘I’m going to bed.’ He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. ‘I’ll see you later.’ A flicker of hurt passed over his face, there and gone in an instant. He swallowed and slid his hands into his pockets, rolling his shoulders back as he nodded.
‘Later, then.’
Aya barely slept.
Not with the anger that continued to work its way through her, gnawing at each part it touched. And when the sun was finally too high in the sky to ignore, she found herself in the training complex, her fists aching as she hit the sparring post again and again, the wood rattling with the fury of her blows.
She’d hoped to find proof of Dominic’s framing of the Bellare. Instead, she’d found something far worse.
It had simmered her blood when Dominic suggested her queen would use her in such a way; but to see it, truly see it, in Gianna’s letter made her insides burn.
The sparring post shook under Aya’s next flurry of punches,her breath coming in uneven pants, emotion rising so quickly in her chest she thought she might choke on it.
Because beneath that anger sat something else; something all too familiar: guilt.
She should be out looking for Vi. Hiding … it made her a coward. But she couldn’t stand to face Aidon or Josie. Not when those fragile friendships had likely shattered. Not when she couldn’t scrub the queen’s missive from her mind. Not when she couldn’t help but see exactlywhyGianna would suggest such a thing. The logic in it; the reason.
Not when Aya couldn’t help but see how it could helpher, too.
She couldn’t use her power without that godsforsaken tonic. But perhaps she wouldn’t need to. Perhaps the tonic would provide just enough proof for Gianna to think she’d mastered her abilities, and their union would seal the alliance. And with Aya here in Trahir with Aidon, she’d have an endless supply of it; and perhaps the healers could adjust it, to help her go deeper …
You would use him in such a way?
It made Aya sick with herself that she could even consider it.
Aya was no stranger to wielding lies and manipulation in the name of her queen. She’d practically been raised on deceit, having begun training at such a young age. But the lies she told … the people she used …
Those were strangers. People she didn’t have to face in the morning. People who wanted to destroy what she held dear. What Gianna held dear.
Aidon and Josie were not those people.
They weren’t strangers. Or enemies.
They were allies.
Friends.
She had lied to Josie about what they were looking for; aboutwhy. But there was a reason it had fallen so easily from her lips.
Because Josie was right: Ayawouldconsider doing whatever was necessary for an alliance. She would consider it because her queen had commanded it, and that was what Aya did. She obeyed without question. She acted without considering the consequences. She let herself be wielded like a weapon, and she did the same to those she marked.
So yes, Josie was right.
She was no better than Gianna.
And she hated it.
Tears stung her eyes, blurring the sparring post as she threw another combination at the worn wood. Aya gritted her teeth against the onslaught of emotion that continued to rise from her chest to her throat.
Gods. She didn’t want to be this way anymore. Cold, and calculating, and nothing more than a chess piece to be moved across the board. And yet she feared she’d have to do so much worse,beso much worse, if she were to be of any use in this war.
Aya leaned her head against the post, her hands trembling as they curled into fists.
She would not break. Not now. Not when there was still so much left to do.
She lifted her head, wiping roughly at the stray tears that had escaped down her cheeks.
