I blink. That’s one I hadn’t heard before.
“But the story I believe…” He doesn’t grip the sides of the chair anymore. He leans forward, watching me watching him. His brown eyes soften as his lips part.
“The only story that holds truth for me is the one where you took the lightning strike for someone else. You did it to protect someone.”
The blood drains from my face. Despite all my efforts not to show any emotion, I can’t find my voice. I whisper. “Thank you, Jasper. For telling me the truth.”
He jumps out of the chair. He glares at it. But he quickly buries his discomfort and turns to me with military precision. “Princess.”
Then he takes a knee, bowing to me again before striding out of the room. I fix my eyes on a point in the distance and force my face into an expression of nothingness, serenity, anything other than the storm of emotions I actually feel.
The door opens again.
Sebastian Splendor enters the room, bows beside the chair, but pauses, frowning at it. He slides into it but he’s already gripping the armrests, his knuckles white around his heartstone.
He doesn’t want to be here. I don’t want him here either. I want him out of the trials and with Jordan where he belongs. That’s okay because I’m going to make sure that happens.
I lean forward, raising my voice, shooting fire straight at him. “Who do you love, Sebastian Splendor?”
“Jordan. Always.”
“Could you ever, in a million years, love me?”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Princess. My heart is hers.”
“Thank you, Sebastian. For telling me the truth.”
He leaps out of the chair and spins to me, his face pale. He glimpses his grandfather through the transparent shield at the side and instantly Sebastian becomes wooden and emotionless. He drops to a knee. “Princess.”
Three champions remain and Baelen is one of them. I hold my breath, but the next to appear is Pedr Bounty’s grandson. He was the one who held Jasper back.
He pauses beside the chair, twisting his heartstone in his hands, glancing between where I sit and the Elven Command watching from the side. Like all the champions, he’s big and brawny, the perfect choice for the job of blocking another male.
I won’t go easy on this male.
I say, “They can’t help you. This is the part where you have to face yourself.”
He slides into the chair, staring at a point past my ear.
I remain silent until his gaze finally flicks to mine. I say, “What do you see when you look at me?”
He struggles, shifting in the chair, refusing to answer.
I don’t smile. I don’t feel anything. “You can’t get out until I say the words that will release you. Does that make you feel helpless?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that’s how I felt when Rhydian Valor’s body pressed on top of mine? When he stabbed me over and over again?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to shout? Fight back? Escape?”
“N-no.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Why not?”
“Because I deserve to feel this way.”
