Tris lets out a dark chuckle. “That means you need me to accept what you’ve offered for our bargain to be fulfilled.”
“Will you?” I splay my hands wider over my chest. “Will you tear out my heart in place of hers and be satisfied?”
“No, Huntsman. Why would I? I want her dead. I want her punished for what she’s done. I want her to suffer, and you were supposed to help make that happen.”
It takes all my restraint to fight my rage at hearing Tris speak of Astrid in such a way. “I was wrong to accept your bargain,” I say through my teeth. “I never should have agreed to such dark and underhanded methods.”
“Dark and underhanded? Those are words reserved for my wretched stepdaughter, not me. How can you be such a fool, Huntsman? You will die because of her. Our bargain will claim you. We still have five more days, but if you refuse to fulfill it now, and I accept that our bargain has been broken, you will die at my feet within moments. Are you truly willing to do that?”
“Yes,” I say, even though it makes my heart sink further. I knew there was little chance this would work. I knew Tris wouldn’t let Astrid go so easily. But I never meant to survive this meeting with the queen. I only meant to give Astrid enough time to run. For the love of the All of All, she better fucking run.
Thoughts of her safely hidden away set my nerves at ease. Queen Tris will continue to hunt her, but Astrid is clever. She’ll survive. She managed to survive me. She’ll survive anyone else who comes for her as well. Now that she’s learning to control her magic, she has an even greater chance.
But it does leave me curious about one thing…
“Why do you hate her so?” I ask.
Her answer comes out with a growl. “Because she killed my beloved Edmund.”
“She didn’t kill him, Tris, and you know it.” My words are sharper than I’ve ever honed them before the queen. She takes a sudden step back as if sliced by their edges. “I ask you again, why do you hate her? What is it that you see when you look at her?”
“What does it matter to you? You’re on the brink of death, Huntsman.”
“Then offer the truth as my last request. What do you see when you look at Astrid Snow?”
She waves a flippant hand. “I see her beauty. Her pretty pink hair, her—”
“Not her appearance. What else do you see? What makes you so enraged when you look at the child of your beloved husband?”
Tris snaps her mouth shut. She blinks a few times, and her scent plummets. Her throat bobs, chin wobbling. She tears her gaze from mine. “I didn’t always hate her,” she whispers.
I’m stunned silent by the sudden shift in her countenance. The queen seems to fold in on herself, shoulders slumped forward.
“I loved her the moment I laid eyes on the girl,” Tris says. “I was charmed by her. The same way you are now. She was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her hair a prettier shade of pink than mine. Her rosebud lips so kind and smiling. When I looked at her, I saw everything Edmund loved about her. Whateveryoneloved about her. She was so charming and graceful. And so utterly…lovable.”
Her scent constricts, and she gathers some semblance of her cold composure. “I resented how lovable she was. How effortlessly everyone was drawn to her. Edmund thought the world of his daughter. He’d accept no award as my husband unless I gave an equal boon to Astrid. I named her a princess so he’d accept being my king. I built her a throne so that he’d sit on his own.”
My eyes fall on the two crystal thrones placed just behind the queen’s. I wonder if Mr. Snow had originally asked for them both to flank the queen’s, instead of being placed behind it. I imagine Tris wouldn’t have allowed Astrid an equal place beside her.
Tris lifts her chin. “Astrid was so lovable to everyone around her, but I saw a secret side. She was haughty. She acted like she was better than everyone around her. Better than me. No one saw it. Edmund didn’t believe me. Whenever we spoke of her, it felt like we were discussing two different people. And when it came to Astrid…well, she may have been lovable to everyone around her, but she certainly didn’t love me. She acted like she was the queen of Fairweather Palace, demanding love and respect, charming my people, even my nephew. Then breaking their hearts one by one. That is why I began to hate her.”
I fully understand why Astrid considers her magic a curse, why even positive first impressions have turned people against her. When I asked her about her relationship with Madame Desire, she said things tended to go badly when envy was involved—that one’s best mirrored qualities eventually evoked negative feelings.
My heart aches for her. She’s had to deal with this her entire life. With no one—no one—seeing the real her. Aside from her father. Now me.
One of whom has died. The other will soon be joining him.
Rage sparks in my chest, prompting truth to rise to my lips. “You’re wrong about her.”
“Excuse me?” She looks me over like I’m a speck of dirt. The curl of her upper lip illustrates thebest qualitiesshe must greatly treasure—arrogance, pride, haughtiness. Qualities she saw in Astrid and despised.
I know I have no right to confess what I’m about to say next. It isn’t my confession to make. Not my truth to tell. And if I were to ask Astrid, I’m sure she’d tell me such a truth would be pointless to share, for it too has brought her much suffering.
But if there’s a chance, even the slightest odds, that the truth could free Astrid from Tris’ wrath, I must try. Even if it’s the last wager I ever place.
“Everything you’ve seen in Astrid has been your reflection all along.”
Her wings begin to buzz against her back in agitation. “What are you talking about?”
