Pausing as I reached the image of the wolf, I glanced up at him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed it was just you and Rissa.”
His teeth scraped against his bottom lip. He took his time before responding. “Our mother is still alive, but she’s…sick. Lost. She fell ill shortly after our father died and has only worsened since.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my heart aching for him, for the distance in his gaze. “Where is she?”
“Here. In the room right next to us. Rissa and I have taken care of her for the past decade. It started as fatigue, her body and mind unable to handle the grief. It slowly morphed into…well, the healers aren’t exactly sure. It’s as if she gave up.” When he paused, I slipped my hand into his and squeezed. This type of openness was something I hadn’t had before, and I found myself wanting to melt into him, to give him my strength when words failed him.
“Her body is stable, for the most part. But her mind…we lost hope that she would recover long ago. She sits in silence, never moving, never speaking. We’re lucky if she so much as looks at us when we go read to her or sit with her in the mornings. Watching her become a—a shell of what she used to be…” He closed his eyes and paused again as he collected himself. “I can’t even remember the last time she spoke to me. It’s not something I talk about often.”
I tucked my arm beneath my head. “That must be so hard. I’m sorry, Leo. I had no idea.”
“Neither of us are strangers to hardships.”
Fates, wasn’t that the truth.
“What about your parents?” he asked gently. It wasn’t pressing, simply curious. He’d said he wanted to get to know me, that he wanted us to be open. The fact that he was lowering his own walls made the coil in my chest that furled so tightly around the memory of my parents loosen. I could do this. I could talk about them. I could let someone share my grief.
I took a deep breath. “I think the reason this trial affected me so much is because my entire life has been filled with loss. My mother…she died during childbirth. I was born into blood, and sometimes it feels like I’m still trying to crawl my way out. And this trial…it showed me more bodies piled high, more people I couldn’t save.
“The day my father died…” I chewed on my bottom lip, exhaling slowly. The familiar panic—the weight on my chest, the dry lips, the tightening around my neck—appeared, but it was muffled. Distant. Easier to work through. “The day he died, I was five years old. A few Illusionists found me outside our house and tricked me into bringing them to my papa.”
I told Leo the story, speaking the words aloud for the first time. I recounted how my father had forced me to hide, how he’d protected me against the men, how I’d come out of my spot and saw the Illusionist slit his throat. Leo’s features remained focused; the only reactions he showed were when he threaded his fingers through mine, occasionally rubbing his thumb against the side of my hand.
“The morning of the first trial, Callum—the Illusionist challenger—tricked me. He created an image of Horace dead in the hallway outside my room. He was lying in his own blood with his throat cut, the same way I found my father. It triggered the memory, something I’d been repressing for decades.” I swallowed and grasped Leo’s hand tighter. “It all came rushing back. It was like…I’d had a crack inside of me ever since then that had slowly been leaking, but I could always patch it easily enough. Then afterthis, it was a flood. A tidal wave I couldn’t run from. Everythingthat’s happened since has just opened more gates to let water rush in and drown me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut before any tears could form and fall. I felt Leo raise my hand, felt the soft press of his lips into my knuckles. I wasn’t used to such an outward display of affection, especially from someone like him—someone who had seemed so impassive in the beginning, all hard lines and ruthless stoicism.
I liked him this way. Gentle and soft. Lending strength instead of merely possessing it.
“It feels like something is wrong with me,” I finally said. “Nobody wants to get too close. Bad things always seem to happen to those around me. My parents, Ragnar, countless people I know who have fallen to the Somnivae curse. And now I find out the emperor is myuncle? The things he’s done…”The things my father has probably done, I thought with a shudder. “Maybe there’s something in my blood that’s cursed. Doomed to spread destruction.”
The bed shifted and Leo rested a hand on my waist. “Come here,” he murmured. One of his arms slid under me while the other wrapped around my back, and I rested my head on his chest as he pulled me in. My top leg instantly tangled between his, his warmth and solidness cocooning me in a way that felt both familiar and completely new at the same time.
“Growing up, part of me believed the Somnivae curse was my fault,” Leo began, his voice hushed with my ear against his chest. My pulse beat a little faster at the mention of him and the curse. The truth pressed into my tongue, sharp and bitter, and I swallowed it down. “Many thought Rissa and myself were some sort of plague on the empire. Being born into that legacy…it meant we were never accepted. Not for who we truly were. Never seen as anything other than a curse, we were forced to live as outsiders in our own home, scared of what others may do to us out of a twisted sense of balance or retribution.”
His thumb tapped at my lower back, a tick I found endearing. When he continued speaking, I heard the hesitancy in his words, like he didn’t often let others bear this burden, either.
“It doesn’t take long to wonder…if they’re right. If Rissa and Iarecursed, and we’re the reason so many suffer.”
I leaned away to meet his eyes, heart sinking at the thought of the twins so lost and alone, carrying this guilt for something they had no control over. I didn’t know how to navigate this. I wasn’t one others came to for relief or empathy. But even if he was connected to the curse…itwasn’this fault. He didn’t deserve the hand the Fates had dealt him. One would have to be blind not to see how devoted he was to this empire, even when he’d been treated with such malice.
“It’s not your fault, Leo,” I said, pushing on his chest to see his face clearly. His muscles flexed and tensed beneath my touch. “You’ve donenothingwrong. Those people…they’re scared of something they don’t understand.”
“I know.” His breath fanned across my skin. “Knowing something and believing it aren’t always the same. And you’re no more cursed than I am. You’ve also done nothing wrong, Rose. Doyoubelieve that?” His eyes searched mine, turning my words back around on me.
I let out a huff of laughter, lowering my gaze. “You’re not playing fair.”
“I never said I was playing.” The hand at my spine pressed further into me, and I burrowed back into his hold, tucking my chin and letting our heartbeats lull my racing thoughts.
“I’m sorry about your father,” he said after a moment. “Nobody should have to go through what you did. Nobody should have to see violence like that.”
My stomach twisted. We’d found some sort of…peace, or whatever thisthingbetween us was, and I didn’t want to ruin it. But we’d also never had a conversation about Branock’s involvement that didn’t end in anger or denial, and the urge to find closure pressed against me. I sat up, looking down at him and the distance I’d created.
“There was something else Gayl told me about my father when we met. He said he knew that—that Branock Aris was going to goafter him. It was after your father went into hiding. He was tracking down those closest to Gayl to get revenge on him for stealing his throne, and that my father was high on the list.”
Leo stiffened. “Why are you bringing him up again, Rose? We’ve already talked about this.”
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice strained. Not at him, but atmyself. That I couldn’t seem to let this go. “I guess I—I just want to understand. I don’t know what to believe anymore—Gayl’s story or your conviction. And part of me feels like I’ll never be able to get over this without some sort of explanation.”
