Cayden shook his head. “You can’t blame yourself for everything, Quinn.”
I shrugged. “You can, and I did. Right or wrong, it’s how I lived for, well, twenty-four years.”
The gears behind Cayden’s eyes turned as he took my words and reflected them onto himself. I’d never seen anyone digest information like he did and internalize it. But he was a closed book. I didn’t know what impact my words had on him.
“We’re at the bottom of the box,” Cayden said, his face unreadable.
I took a deep breath and let him change the topic. We were, and there were items at the bottom, not in little Ziplock bags. A stack of now-useless cash, my birth certificate, and a little jewelry box looked up at us. Cayden picked up the birth certificate before I could stop him. To distract myself from the realization that Cayden, who was very, very smart, was probably putting together the bits and pieces he’d witnessed about me, with the dates written on my birth certificate—which would inevitably lead him to my ripe old age of around a hundred and forty—I focused on the jewelry box and the note tied to the top of it.
This belonged to my mom. Your grandma. I’m a coward, and I didn’t want you to break it. So, I never gave it to you. I’m so sorry for everything.
Your dad, always.
I managed to set the jewelry box down before bursting into tears and dropping into a heap on the floor. My dad was gone. Everything I knew was gone. There wasn’t even a piece of me pretending this was all a delusion anymore, and no matter how much I loved this new world, it didn’t change that I lost my old one.
Cayden wrapped me in his arms and pulled us onto an oversized loveseat we’d commandeered. He rocked me while I cried, and eventually, my tears slowed.
“We’d done a number on each other, but he was still my dad,” I mumbled. “And now he’s gone.”
Cayden kissed the side of my head. “You’re stronger than you think.”
I screwed my eyes shut, as if blocking out the world would make his words more real.
“In my family, the kids are raised by women until our Prophet judges them,” Cayden said softly. “And then they are chosen by a mentor. I was eight when my Prophet chose me, and my life became lessons and worship.” I felt his chest squeeze. “I don’t understand anything you just said. Tell me about it?”
I took a deep breath. Cayden and I came from such different worlds, but he somehow knew that I needed to talk and gave me that opening. I cuddled into him as stories about my childhood streamed out of me. I told him how badly my dad wanted to fix me, but how quickly that turned into a double-edged sword. I explained that he loved me, but his love also trapped us in unhealthy patterns.
“And now I don’t even know what happened to him.” Another round of fat tears fell, but this time, I brushed them away. “And on some level, I’m scared to know. What if his life was better without me? Or worse, what if it wasn’t?”
Cayden rested his chin on my shoulder and held me tight. “His life wasn’t better without you. No one’s life is better without you in it.”
My heart beat a little faster.
“My life in this castle is nothing like it was.” Cayden squeezed me. “When I was little, I played with my brothers… and sister.” He almost whispered the last two words. “But once I was chosen, I was much like you. I no longer played. I learned. No one tried to fix me, but everyone expected me to walk flawlessly in the Prophet’s light. I expected myself to function with that same perfection. And I did, for a long time.” Cayden let go of me. “Until I couldn’t anymore.”
His daughter. He still wouldn’t talk about her.
“So, you’re saying you also need a lobotomy?” I asked, pulling us out from the weight of our emotions.
Cayden stood, set me on my feet, and scowled. “No, old lady.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Original.”
“I’m saying I get it, Q. I expected perfection, and you expected failure, but both of us were trapped by a collective will dictating who we should be.” His scowl morphed into a hopeful smile. “Now we’re not. It doesn’t matter what we’ve escaped, only that we’re here now.”
My heart raced at his words and his simple acceptance.
He held out his hand. “Put your perfect little hand in mine so we can get your magic working. No one will trap either of us again. Especially not the Architect.”
I took a deep breath in and out before lifting my leg and pointing my foot as if that’s what he’d asked for.
Cayden rolled his eyes before slipping his arm around my waist and guiding me back to the jewelry box. We opened it together—a collection of small but exceptionally clear diamonds set in a necklace, earrings, and ring.
“I think those, combined with the metals we sorted, should be enough.” Cayden declared.
I raised an eyebrow. “Enough for what?”
A mischievous smile filled his face. “You need to be in constant contact with precious metals and gems. We both know someone who’s already an expert at that.” Cayden sighed. “I was not pleased to find aGrierson so useful. Everly also has a way for you to dump the crazy amount of power that’s built up in your tiny body.”
