“Wrong,wife.”
She pursed her lips, her now wet hair sticking to her face and collarbone, and her sea-soaked dress clinging to her. Sand clung to her damp skin. The sun was nearly gone now, and she looked exquisite sitting among the surf in the twilight.
“Tell me what you are thinking, Kailia,” he urged after two full minutes of silence ticked by.
“To what end?” she countered. “So you can use my words and thoughts to manipulate me even further? Not that it makes a difference. You will simply come for them when I’m asleep.”
“If you’re expecting me to apologize for what I did, I won’t.”
Her laugh was humorless. “The cursed don’t feel guilt, king.”
“If sitting on a beach, soaked to the bone with you is a curse, I’ll ensure I do the same in every lifetime to relive this moment over and over.”
“I hate you. I always have.”
“But at least it’s real,” he countered. “More real than the lies you spun in the gardens or the facade you’ve tried so desperately to keep in place for months.”
Her head canted to the side, the familiar curiosity shining in her eyes despite her obvious anger. “You told me we had to be convincing. How else was I supposed to do that? It is not as if I could openly despise you,husband.”
“Is that what we’re calling how you feel about me? Hatred and contempt?”
“I don’t know why you’d think otherwise,” she answered.
He hummed. “So many mixed messages, tiny fiend.”
Pushing to his feet, he extended a hand to her. She merely blinked at it, pointedly standing on her own.
“We still have a kingdom to lead, Kailia,” he said. “We can continue to discuss this, but we still need to move forward.”
“I intend to,” she replied.
He knew this wasn’t the end of it. He’d watched her in her dreams as those who had wronged her came for her, and she’d cut them down to nothing. He’d seen her do the same when someone merely touched her. Truthfully, he’d expected more rage, but he shouldn’t have when he really thought about it. She was cunning and contemplative. Unpredictable, yes, but rarely brash. No, he wasn’t stupid enough to believe there wouldn’t beconsequences for this, but he also didn’t regret it. No part of him did.
He’d long ago learned that sacrifices for his kingdom came at a cost, and he’d never apologize for paying it. He was the one who’d gotten ships past the Wards. He was the one who kept the creatures of old at bay. He was the one his parents called in when there were uprisings or the Elder Clans got too bold. And he would be the one to free his people of these godsforsaken Wards that kept them contained. Because his people trusted him. His kingdom looked to him for protection. He understood his responsibilities. His role and duty had been reiterated to him since he was born, a part of him as much as his magic was, even if he resented some of the things he was now forced to deal with daily.
But it hadn’t been as monotonous as of late.
Not with Kailia in his study, or knowing he’d get to see her at dinner. Not with watching her sleep so many nights, when she was convinced he was gone. Not with seeing her in her dreams, watching her cleverness and skill, learning secrets she worked so hard to keep hidden.
No, there was no regret and no guilt, and if she hated him for this, he didn’t care. He’d told her once that the veil between love and hate was thin, and that he’d be fine with either from her. Nothing had changed.
She could hate him, but she was still his. In this lifetime and all those to come.
Extending his hand to her once more, he said, “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 40
Kailia
She stared back at him. At the king she’d always known was capable of cruelty. The king who was willing to sacrifice anyone and anything for his own gain.
“Let’s go home,” Cethin said, extending a hand to her.
Home.
She’d never truly had one of those. First was the Cliffs, then Pyry. Admittedly, that was the continent she preferred, although having to wear so many layers in the frigid climate made it difficult to move quietly and conceal weapons. After Pyry, she spent decades in Baylorin, the capital city of one of the mortal kingdoms across the Edria. But after that, and in between those three places, she went wherever her ashes carried her. Enjoying the freedom. Taking in the sky. Sun, moon, stars, clouds. She didn’t care. But never had she felt like she had a home. Places to live, yes, but the word home invoked a different feeling she was sure she’d never experienced. Home was supposed to be a place that was safe and accepting. Home was supposed to be free of expectations and demands. She’d always envisioned a home as a place where she wasn’t used or exploited, but simply free to exist with others who cared for her because she existed, not because of her abilities.
There were many things she was sure she’d never experienced until she came here, but for the briefest of moments, she’d thought maybe this could be a home.
