Thane watches me for a moment, then nudges the plate closer. “Eat.” His voice is firm but not unkind. “You’ll need your strength.”
I pick up my fork again and spear a piece of chicken, chewing slowly at first. But the moment the savory meat hits my tongue, I realize just how hungry I am. I haven’t eaten for days. I take another bite, then another, until half my plate is gone before I even think to slow down.
Thane doesn’t comment, but I feel his gaze flicker over me, appraising. After a moment, he gives a small nod, as if satisfied that I’m eating.
When I slow, he finally speaks. “How are you feeling?”
My fork hovers above the plate.
“Oh,fantastic.” My voice is dry. Bitter. “Nothing like losing everything you’ve ever known and being told you’re the realm’s savior to brighten your day.”
The corner of his mouth twitches.
I look up, expecting some kind of reaction, but he just waits. The silence stretches. And something inside me cracks.
I drop my gaze, the edge slipping from my voice. “I don’t know how I feel.”
I push the food around absently.
“Overwhelmed. Lost. In disbelief. Like I’m trying to wake up from a nightmare that won’t end.”
Thane nods. “That sounds about right. If you weren’t feeling that, I’d be worried.”
I glance up, surprised by his honesty.
He leans back, arms folding loosely across his chest. “The world isn’t fair, Amara. If it was, I’d still have a mother.” His jaw tightens momentarily. “It just throws you into the fire and expects you to survive.”
Then, softer—
“But you’re still here. That counts for something.”
I huff out a breath, shaking my head. “Yeah? And what if I don’t want to fight?”
The words slip out before I can stop them, raw and unguarded. Thane doesn’t respond right away. Just studies me, like he’s weighing my words, measuring my resolve.
“Then don’t,” he says at last.
I blink, stunned.
No speech. No duty. Just . . . that.
He shrugs. “No one can make that choice for you.” But then he holds my gaze, steady and clear. “But if youstopfighting . . . ” His voice tightens. “Then the ones hunting you win. Your friends, your home, the entire realm—gone.And something tells me you’re not the kind of person who lets others decide her fate.”
A shaky breath escapes me, my chest tightening.
The realm.
My choice.
My responsibility.
And then, like a wind off the edge of the world, grief crashes in. My parents. My loving, gentle parents who always made me feel safe, who would have done anything to protect me. Gone. Turned to nothing but ash and memory.
My hands grip the blanket tighter.
I shake my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t ask for this.”
Thane doesn’t argue—doesn’t tell me I’m wrong. He just nods, like he understands. “No one ever does,” he says.
