“You’re correct. It would be an incredibly advantageous and powerful relationship,” Harthon confirmed, unmiffed.Meanwhile, my heartrate ratcheted up, because I’d never heard Harthon speak aboutusas a unit, or acknowledge the complex relationship between us. And while I knew he’d never lay himself bare in front of company, some pathetic part of me ached for more insight.
A foolish, pathetic part that was oblivious to the frustration and confusion I currently felt toward him.
“But you speak as if the only thing of value Etarla has to pass on is her unusual abilities,” Harthon said.
Ellan tipped his head curiously, as if to say,but of course.
Harthon’s dark eyes slid to mine. “She is brave. Resourceful. Her determination is admirable, as well as her strength. She is tough, but also kind. She is bigger than herself, yet possesses an empathy that many of us lack. To know her is to be impressed and surprised by her with every passing day.”
I was no longer breathing. Every ounce of energy, every thought, had gone to absorbing his words, committing them to memory, and preventing my face from showing how deeply they struck me.
Harthon didn’t just say things. He didn’tneedto say those things here and now.
If he was saying them, he meant them.
“All the more reason for you to be a united front,” Ellan commented, wriggling his brows.
Harthon was still looking at me when he replied, “Perhaps.”
My lips parted.
I’d expected him to deny Ellan’s comment. Not to…entertain it.
Ear. Tongue. Jonathan. Anger.
I reached for the wine.
Which was why the jewels on the chandelier were beginning to blur together as the meal ended and Ellan finally left us to lick the Lords’ boots, Edmund trailing him. Callen left to take care ofwhatever a third-in-command had to take care of, and Harthon stood to greet North, who scowled first at the room and then at me. The wine was probably why I smiled at him in return.
I sat back in my chair, nibbling at bread and watching attendees dance to an upbeat melody, the earlier violence forgotten. It was testimony to how regular death and suffering were in this world.
The weight of the crown atop my head grew heavier and heavier with every passing moment. Two months ago, I would have laughed at the thought of ever wearing one, of thinking about a Princeps and his lips and hands and the fact that he’d just brutally killed someone, all at the same time.
“You’re thinking hard.”
The bread dropped from my fingers. Ana sat beside me, her dark brown skin glowing in the torchlight, hair falling in perfect curls to her chest.
I took another long pull of wine, finishing the goblet. I wanted a refill, but I’d learned at Ellan’s party how that would turn out for me.
This was my chance to apologize. But I was a coward, so I nodded to the blood-stained stone and asked, “Did you know he was going to do that?”
“No.”
Some of the tension in my shoulders released. Ifshehad known while I’d been kept in the dark, I wouldn’t be angry so much as hurt. That within itself was terrifying, because it meant that Harthon had some power over me. That I’dgivenit to him, without any promises made between us.
“You know what he said was false.”
“I do,” she confirmed.
“Did he have a reason? A real one?”
Ana rolled her lips. “I’d like to think so.” She hesitated. “But in the past, he…didn’t always.”
The bread in my stomach thickened.
“They weren’t ever innocent. They were bad people. But politics and power don’t always allow room for thorough justice.”
The hard metal of the crown dug into my skull. “We are the ones who create politics and power. We can make room for thorough justice.”
