Her hands remain steady as stone. "Stand as shadows that cannot be pierced. Stand as pillars that cannot be shaken. Stand as two who now rise together under the order's watch."
Valentina doesn't move. Her face stays stone, and it freaks me out.
What is she thinking?
Why isn't she happy? This is what she wanted.
Fiona releases us, smiling.
Kirill raises his palm again. "The pledges are sealed. You are bound. Rise as council-bound, and serve the Underworld with unyielding devotion."
The arena erupts into a new chant. It rumbles the floor beneath our feet. "Onorath… Onorath… Onorath…"
Valentina doesn't move. Her expression stays untouched by triumphor dread. There's no spark of victory, just an emptiness I wasn't expecting.
Where are you, Minx?
I lean down, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. "We're done. I'm getting us out of this hellhole."
She still doesn't speak or look at me.
The chant peaks, and my pulse hits the back of my throat. I pin my question on Kirill. "Can we go now?"
"You may."
I guide Valentina off the stage. The crowd parts, and I move us through the torchlight, ignoring the people. The second we clear the exit, I storm toward the plane.
It's waiting for us. I step on it, nod at the flight attendant, and say, "Evening. Please get us in the air," then steer Valentina into the back bedroom and shut the door.
Valentina doesn't move farther into the bedroom. She stands in her white robe, hands slack at her sides, gaze fixed on nothing. The overhead lights cast a muted glow across her face, and it hits me hard how young she looks without a mask, without torches, without a crowd demanding she perform.
She should be on fire right now. She should be drinking in victory. She should be grinning in my face and telling me she warned everyone she was unstoppable.
Instead, she looks hollowed out.
I yank the robe open, slide it off my shoulders, and toss it onto the chair like it burned me. "Talk to me."
She doesn't blink.
I take two steps closer. "Minx, what is going on? You got what you wanted. You have your seat on the Royal Council. You can make the whole damn Underworld get on its knees and chant your name. Why aren't you happy?"
Her head turns slowly toward me.
A broken woman appears, stunning me. Her eyes have that same dead-still distance I saw on the stage. Gone is the Valentina who walks into rooms like she owns every breath inside them, the one who doesn't flinch when blades glitter, the one who would rather bleed out than let someone see a tremor in her chin.
My chest tightens with something I don't want to name. I don't do helpless. I can't watch someone I care about drown while I stand there with my hands in my pockets.
I move to the bed, pull back the covers, then unrobe her. I order, "Get in bed."
She obeys.
I slide next to her, lean back against the pillows, and pull her to my side. Her head lies on my chest. I stroke her hair and kiss her on the head.
A warm tear trickles onto my chest.
Anger fills me. Not at her but about what they've done to her.
I slide my hand up her back in slow, steady strokes. I press another kiss to the top of her head. "Talk to me, Minx."
