Two.
After what I did to Father…
One.
My breath comes out in a rush, making me rock back on my feet. A buzz of energy surges from my core, spiraling down my legs, my arms, and out the crown of my head. One by one, my muscles loosen, my jaw unclenches, my stomach settles. The dull ache that’s been my constant companion fades completely, taking with it pains I hadn’t even realized I’d been harboring. In a matter of seconds, my body feels lighter, stronger. My mind grows clearer, my heart becomes warmer.
Just like that, I’m free.
Free.
The absence of two bargains feels euphoric. My chest heaves with the deepest, most tantalizing breaths I’ve ever taken. The sound of my heartbeat feels like a song, and for several moments all I can do is listen to it. Its rhythm speaks words I can almost hear, words that would become clear if only I’d tune in…
I reach for the base of my neck again and am reminded that I’m still wearing my ballgown and glamour. My heart squeezes as I glance down at my skirt, at the glamoured sheet music that graces my hem.
A song for new life.
A song for safety.
A song for love.
My lips pull into a small smile, one that lifts my heart. But that’s not all it lifts. A surge of fear rises alongside it. I glance from the trunk where I’ve yet to retrieve my train ticket, then to my hastily packed bag.
Freedom is finally mine. I can live the life I’ve always wanted. Do the things I’ve always craved. Be the person I’ve always wanted to be.
I don’t want you to be anyone else.
A lump rises in my throat.
Franco doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know who I really am.
But maybe he deserves to.
Without a second thought, I rush to the door and pull it open.
Franco stands on the other side.
* * *
I blinkseveral times to ensure I’m not imagining things, but when it’s clear the prince is truly there, my heart flutters wildly in my chest. Franco stands with a hand braced on my doorframe, his head lowered, posture slouched. I recall the first time I found him like this. He’d been confident then. So smug. He’d lifted his head with the most practiced, charming grin. One I scoffed at.
This time, though, he seems tired. Defeated. Hurt.
Hurt byme.
“Franco.” His name comes out like a plea. Everything in me wants to reach for him, comfort him, touch him so I know with even more certainty that he’s real.
He lifts his eyes to mine. His voice comes out strained. “I’m sorry I disobeyed your wishes, but please hear me out. I’m not here to make you stay. I’m here to tell you how I feel. You can leave without a word once I’ve said my piece. You can reject me with all your rage. I’ll accept that. I’m ready for it, for every agonizing inch of it. Just please hear me out.”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat to no avail. Without the use of words, all I can do is nod. Then, on trembling legs, I move aside and let him in. He strides into my room without looking at me, and I close the door behind him. I watch as he walks toward the balcony doors, then paces back and forth while running a hand over his face. Finally, he stops and faces me.
“I…I think I love you, Em.”
My breath catches.
“No,” he says, sending my heart sinking. “I don’tthink. That’s me still being afraid.” He closes the distance between us and rests his hands softly on my shoulders. His eyes lock on mine. “I love you. I know you’re leaving and that’s all right if that’s what you feel you must do. I just want you to know that you are loved. That you are beautiful. That your magic is beautiful.”
My eyes glaze over as warmth spreads throughout my chest. I want to tell him things I’ve left buried deep in my heart, and yet…the fear remains.
