Because in the past few weeks, I’d grown attached to him.Comradery and attraction.Who was I fooling? Had it only been that, this would not feel like my insides were being ripped in two.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice cracking. A new realization dawned, striking me deeper. “Youknewthat your clan was responsible, back when I told you about my dream in the woods. And you didn’t tell me then.” He’d kissed me and touched me instead, all the while keeping me oblivious to the truth.
Tears pricked my eyes. Whether they were born of anger, pain, or sadness, I couldn’t tell, but regardless, I couldn’t stop them.
His hand reached toward me as if to comfort. I flinched, and he stilled, his features turning flat as he dropped his hand back to his side. “I wanted to tell you, Etarla. You’ve always deserved to know, but the need to get into the Domus, the fate of this world, is above all of that. I couldn’t risk you trying to leave in anger. Duty allows no choices,” he said, but his reasoning wasn’t good enough. Hedidhave a choice.
“Youliedto me.”
“Had you asked me outright, like you are now, I would have told you the truth.”
I scoffed at that. No matter how he played with words, his omission was as good as a lie. “Is that what you told yourself to feel better as you kissed me,heldme, last night, knowing I was clueless?”
His jaw grew taut. “I told you many times that I’m not a good man. You’re the one who decided to believe otherwise. Now you know the truth.”
He might as well have slapped me.
I exhaled, spun, and yanked the door open. The conversation was done. I had no more questions, only tears, and I’d be damned if he’d bear witness to them.
I ignored the startled look on Stefano’s face and barged into my room. He made to follow me, but I turned, stopping him before he entered the doorway. “Stay out,” I said, because I could only manage two coherent words.
By some miracle, he didn’t argue, and I slammed the door shut.
* * *
By the time night fell and I laid in bed, my head and body throbbed equally with exhaustion. Once my tears had run dry, I’d forced Stefano to train me for hours, partly in anger and partly out of the need to distract myself from the caustic emotions that overwhelmed me. Now I was too tired to feel much of anything, allowing room for logic to work. And as much as I loathed to admit it, logic told me that Harthon’s reasoning wasn’t completely wrong.
Getting into Centraliswasbigger than me and my emotions, and considering I’d only recently decided to be a fully willing participant in Harthon’s plan…well, I could see how building trust took precedence over revealing this part of his past.
And even after today’s revelation, that trust still stood. In part.
When I’d told Harthon yesterday that he was blameless for what he was part of as a child, I’d wholeheartedly meant it. Regardless of the fact that I was affected by his past, he’d still been too young to truly bebad, and when he was old enough to be held accountable forwrong and right, he separated from his father and killed him. He’d been seeking to change things for the better ever since. He was a leader for good.
For me to go back on my beliefs now, only because my emotions were involved, would make me a hypocrite.
So I did still trust that Harthon was the right man to bring into the Domus. He was still a good man for the people. I would still support his—supportour—mission.
But for him to hold the truth from me while he’d…while he’d held me like Imattered,kissed me and touched me—that was unforgivable. He’d allowed me to feel things, to trust that he was safe, towanthim, all the while knowing he kept this from me.
Thatwas where the betrayal lay.
I’d been played for a fool.I’d allowed that to happen. All because of a few kindnesses and gestures and a well-built body that’d peeled my walls down and exposed me to something I’d never wanted before.
Apparently, Etarla of the past had been right in her mindset of swearing off relationships.
I should have known. Just yesterday, Harthon had called me naïve for stating that he was a good man. He’d been correct. I wouldn’t be naïve any longer.
My stomach growled, and I rolled over, trying to ease the ache. I’d felt too sick to eat all day. Felda had left me dinner, but it was cold by now. My head landed on the second pillow, and emotions swelled to the surface once more at his scent. Last night at this time, he’d been here, setting my body on fire.
Trying to settle in, I jammed my arm beneath the pillow—and touched something that was far too crinkly and rough to be part of the bed. I shifted the pillow to the side, revealing a neatly rolled scroll.
If it had been here last night, Harthon would have noticed it.He was too observant not to. It had been placed here today, then. The fact that it was there and not on my dresser, just after we’d been attacked…
This couldn’t be anything good.
I swept out of bed and carried the paper to the fireplace, which still glowed with hot embers. I undid the string that tied the scroll together and rolled out the paper. The letters were thankfully big and neat, and there weren’t many of them.
Slowly, I began to read the two short lines.
