* * *
An hour later,I don my false persona and enter the parlor. It isn’t quite afternoon just yet, but I’d rather prepare for my doom now than wait until Gavin is being led upstairs to meet me. I go to the hearth, ignoring memories of another hearth in another parlor, and sit on a chair that looks nothing like one I’ve grown so fond of seeing occupied by a certain surly king.
My eyes unfocus as I watch the dancing flames, and I force my mind to empty.
Empty.
Nothing.
Too soon, the parlor doors open, sending my heart leaping into my throat. Every muscle grows tense as I squeeze the arms of my chair. But it isn’t Gavin that enters; it’s Nina.
I release a sigh, feeling my muscles ease as I lean into the back of the chair. Nina approaches and takes a seat next to me. I neither greet her nor meet her eyes but can feel the pity in them just the same.
We sit in silence for a few moments, until Nina speaks, voice quiet. “You aren’t going to marry him, are you?”
I can’t quite place her tone. Is there trepidation in it? Condemnation? “What do you want me to say, Nina?”
She leans toward me. “I want you to say no, that you’ll refuse him.”
I’m taken aback by this, and slowly meet my sister’s eyes, finding them fierce and defiant. I wish they’d spark the same in me, but they don’t. “Since when do you promote my disobedience against Father?”
“Since I watched you dance with Mr. Rochester.”
My heart does a flip then sinks to my toes. I look back at the fire. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Nina leans closer, reaching for my hand. She takes it in both of hers. “Gemma, I’ve tried to give you space and not question you, but something happened between you and Mr. Rochester, and I want you to tell me.”
I pull my hand from her grasp. “Nothing happened.”
She sits straighter, her tone sharpening. “You cannot tell me what I saw was nothing. I saw the way he looked at you. The way you looked at him. Anyone with eyes and a brain could see.”
I scoff. “So very few.”
“You loved him and he loved you.”
I whirl in my chair to face her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. The fae aren’t capable of love like we are. Turns out that part of the fairytales is true.”
“Then tell me what happened. Don’t shut me out. I know you’re hurting and I want to be here for you. I love you.”
I love you.The words reverberate through my head, her voice mingling withhis. It’s too much, too soon. Too potent and painful. It shakes me out of my hiding place, dissolves the dark shroud of my outer persona. “He broke my heart, all right?” I hate the way my voice closes up as I deliver my truth.
“All right,” Nina says with a calm and gentle grace. “Tell me about it. I’ll listen.”
“It’s…it’s not just my story to tell. There are things about him I can’t share.”
“Then tell me your side.”
I’m silent as I ponder what to say, surprised at the relief that washes over me at the prospect of telling her even a fraction of all that I’ve bottled inside. When I speak, my voice is barely above a whisper. “I opened up. I trusted him. I gave him my heart and believed that things would work between us. Believed his promises that he was willing to do what was necessary to make it so. But just like with Oswald, when it came down to it, he couldn’t fight for me. He couldn’t do what he needed to do.”
“What did he need to do?”
“Give up something that he cherished more than me.” As I say it, guilt tugs at my heart, unearthing more that needs to be confessed. “I understand why he wasn’t willing to give it up. If it was reversed, I wouldn’t have made the sacrifice either. We both value freedom too much. Which makes us wrong for each other.”
Nina doesn’t ask me to elaborate, just says, “Did he explain why?”
“He didn’t need to.” But as I say it, my stomach sinks. He did try to explain, but I refused to hear him out. I put words in his mouth, words that are probably truer than whatever garbage he was about to spew. And yet, Nina has a point.
“Gemma, you do always tend to expect the worst of people.”
