“I don’t know you,” she says, and I watch as moisture drips from under her veil. Each drop is like a knife to my chest, but it’s a pain I relish. A pain that severs darkness from my heart. Frees me from a burden I never should have been forced to carry. Her voice trembles with rage, with hurt, with heartache. “You’re no son of mine—”
“No, I’m not.” Another stab to my chest. Another release of my burden. Then, with a deep breath, I state the words that will drive the final wedge. Make the final cut. “I hereby reject the Lemuria name and renounce my place in the banshee clan. I deny all affiliation with the name Vintarys Lemuria. I swear that I am not Vintarys Lemuria and never will be again. I release all bonds of bloodline, family, and magic that are attached to said name, both past and present, and will henceforth be known only as Thorne Blackwood.”
Another layer of release blossoms in my chest, making me breathe deeper than I ever have. It may simply be relief, but I hope it’s more than that—that it marks the end of my cursed bond with Briony. Now that I’ve rejected the name Vintarys, I’ll never be able to command her again. Her family will have no reason to distrust her because of me.
But buried deep inside is an additional hope.
That rescinding the name I was given will undo even the demands I made in the past.
And perhaps free the memories I forced her to forget.
Morgana trembles, head lowered, her fists curled at her sides. She sniffles, and I’m once again struck by how small and frail she is. Half of me begs to hug her. Comfort her. But I made my choice, and I don’t regret it. Now I must make peace with having hurt the woman who was once my mother.
“Go,” she whispers, her voice caught on a sob. Then louder. “Get out!”
I rise from the cot and give her a deep bow, the final act of deference I’ll ever deliver her. It’s a wordless gesture, thanking her for having loved me in the only way she knew how. A love tangled with revenge. A kind of love I fully understand even as I reject it.
I leave the room, turning my back on the woman who gave birth to me, the family I cherished, fought for, and drew blood for. With every step, I feel lighter, shedding layer after layer of the burden I was born with.
No more.
Never again.
I take no more than two steps into the hallway before I find Trentas lurking in the same spot I vacated minutes before. I can’t blame him for spying on our conversation when I did the very same thing to him. Nor do I care that he knows what I did. I meet his eyes and stand before him, daring him to confront me.
He crosses his arms. “I should kill you for hurting your mother like that. For leaving the family.”
“You can try.” My fingers flinch at my sides, ready to fight him should it come to that. But I know his threat is empty. Trentas may seek to become Seelie King of Lunar, but he has no legal power now. Nor does my mother. Both are merely citizens, just like me, and their standing in society pales against mine. Killing me would be a punishable offense, one that could compromise Trentas’ chance at the throne.
Besides, as furious as he is with me, I don’t think he truly wants to hurt me.
His posture eases, as if he too has come to the same conclusions. “I truly loved you like a son, Vin—Thorne.”
I’m surprised by his correction of my name. I didn’t expect him to acknowledge my choice. “If you ever knew love at all, you’d understand why I’m doing this.”
He studies me through slitted lids. “Is this truly the path you want?”
“Do you even need to ask?”
His expression turns thoughtful, curious. “You’ve changed. And I don’t just mean since you were a boy.”
“I know.”
“Because of her.”
“Briony,” I say, unwilling to leave her unnamed. Unspoken.
He tilts his head, curiosity still etched in his face as if he’s seeing me for the first time. The analytical assessment shows me a side of him I haven’t seen before. Or if I have, I don’t recall it. “I suppose you’re right about me. I haven’t known whatever flavor of love you’ve tasted. I wonder what it’s like.”
Pain. Pleasure. Joy. Agony. I say none of this out loud.
He clears his throat and his stern expression returns. “My spies have heard no word that the marriage between the princess and Mr. Phillips will take place.”
My heart pulses a traitorous rhythm. One of hope I don’t deserve to feel. “Why would you tell me that?”
“Because you assured me I’d have my chance at facing King Horus after the wedding. That Divina Briar’s magic would no longer be an obstacle.”
I give him a cold smile. “If you overheard what I said to Morgana then you know that’s no longer any concern of mine.”
