She pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. A chill ran down her spine. “That’s not possible. He was already controlling you when she died. He made you believe that I…”
Her body went rigid. In learning to trust her brother again, she’d forgiven him for condemning her for his wife’s death. She’d told herself Morkai had made him believe she could have done such a thing.
What if she was wrong? What if that enraged reaction at having found her in the room with the dead queen…had been genuine?
She forced the question from her mind. No, she remembered the strange sheen over his eyes when he’d ordered her to the dungeon. He hadn’t been in his right mind back then, even before his wife’s demise.
“It’s just the guilt,” she said, her voice uneven. “You’re letting guilt get to you, brother.”
Still holding her hands, he gave them a squeeze. “I’m grateful for your faith in me, but even if you’re right, it doesn’t matter. I’ve proven myself unstable.”
Cora opened her mouth to argue but her brother spoke first.
“I’m tired, Aveline. So tired.”
Her brother’s sorrow slammed into her, destroying the last of her shields. She felt his exhaustion. His fear of his own mind. It was so potent, it made her breath catch.
“I thought I was a poor king because of a sorcerer, but the truth is, I am a shell of a man without Linette. Sometimes I wish I’d died on that battlefield. At least then I’d be with her now.”
A spike of betrayal pierced her heart. How could he say such a thing? Was their kingdom not important to him? And what abouther? Wasn’t Cora enough to make him cherish being alive? “Don’t talk like that.”
“You will be the king I cannot be. Marry the prince and take my crown. You will serve this kingdom better than I ever could.”
Panic laced her throat as she realized what he was saying; she was expected to marry Terynnow. To become queennow.
She shook her head. “I was never meant to rule, Dimi. I am here to helpyou. To reclaim your birthright and establish your legacy. I never intended…”
She couldn’t finish. How could she admit that she’d seen her role as a temporary one?
Dimetreus’ brows knitted into a furrow. “Are you not happy here, Aveline?” When she gave no answer—for what could she even say in such a frazzled state?—he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know you could have abandoned me at Centerpointe Rock, but you didn’t. That was selfless of you. Should you reject the burden I’m placing upon your head, I won’t blame you. Never could I begrudge you a life of freedom if that is what you want.”
Cora’s chest expanded with a light feeling. He was giving her permission…to say no. To reject her birthright and leave Khero to…
To what? To ruin? To be conquered by King Verdian? With his brothers’ positions, it would be easy to accomplish. Was that something Cora could live with? To end the Caelan line just to shrug off the burden of the throne and run free in the woods?
It was selfish to even consider such a thing. She was stronger than fear. Stronger than the weight of a crown.
Dimetreus spoke again. “Whatever you choose, I will support you. But I must make one request—consider love, Aveline. Don’t shy away from it if that is what makes you hesitate. You and I have lost much in our lives. Our parents. Linette. But I promise you, love is worth it, even if you lose it in the end.”
Cora’s mind went to Teryn, to the curse that still stood between them—between the future of her kingdom—should she fail to break it. Everything was happening too fast, too soon, and her heart was struggling to keep up with it.
Regardless of the racing in her heart, the nausea shredding her stomach, she knew what had to be done.
It was time to tell Teryn the truth.
36
When Teryn returned to consciousness, it was to the sound of Cora’s voice. It was distant, soft, barely brushing against the edges of his awareness. Yet the sound of it called him from nothingness, and when his surroundings took shape, they weren’t the bright light of the crystal or even Emylia’s temple bedroom illusion. Instead, he found himself before a door. The door inside his bedroom at Ridine Castle.
Cora’s voice echoed from the other side, along with a rumbling knock.
“Teryn, are you there? It’s Cora.”
Teryn’s consciousness sharpened. He connected to his breath, his pulse, the hammering of his heart. The events he last recalled—Morkai tricking Dimetreus into attacking him—surfaced in his mind, but he anchored his focus with the sound of Cora’s voice. He was pulled to the melody of her tone, the sensation so strong, he felt it could draw his ethera straight through the door. But as he tried to take a step through the physical matter, he felt a much stronger pull against his back. Glancing behind him, he saw his body resting in his bed. This was as far as his tether to the crystal would let him go.
“Teryn, please. We need to talk.”
He whirled back toward the door. Everything inside him begged to answer, but he knew his voice wouldn’t travel to reach her. Not from whatever plane of existence his ethera was on. So he pressed his palm to the door, felt the resistance hum. She knocked again, and the vibration rang through him like ripples on smooth water.
