And it is all her fault.
Conflicting emotions tug at her heart. Does she hate Sigvid for forcing her to confront her darkness? Or is she obsessed with this part of herself that was confident andbold?
Spinning away from the black box attendant, she is confronted by her cousin.
“I thought you might return to the Arena with the Beast’s champion match looming overhead.” Bertie Alexandrite quips.
“Perhaps I wanted to see him fare one final time,” she snaps, annoyed at the critical eye everyone had trained on her. “Are you here with Viktor?” She changes the subject
He chews on his lip before admitting, “He cannot pull himself away from game tables.”
That would explain why the rich Duke Bertram married the handsome, albeit broke, Baron Viktor Garnet—all to settle a gambling debt. It seems that people will arrange marriages for any reason.
“Seeing as my gold is low, you will buy my meal and wine tonight while Viktor gambles the rest of my inheritance at the horse races.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders.
She groans but acquiesces, and the two return to the tavern at the inn. They take a table on the back deck overlooking the tumultuous South Sea.
Finally, with a wine glass in hand, she turns to find her closest friend watching her with deep pity.
Bertie glances over his shoulder before leaning closer. “I need to hear the truth from you. There are rumors,” he grapples with the question as if it pains him. “Did you bribe a guard and then sneak intohiscell?” He shakes his head with a nervous laugh as if in disbelief. “And then allow him to use you? Of course, all before he murdered a bunch of sentries and maimed the Battlemaster.”
She takes a shaky sip of her wine in a vain attempt to wet her dry mouth. Thinking of how his fingertips brought forth a current like lightning across her bare skin makes her flushed with heat.
She should feel guilt and shame for the death of those sentries, but she didn’t! Sigvid fought for her in a way no one ever had. And she is still drunk off that feeling.
Her silence is damning as she brings the glass to her lips again, refusing to answer.
He swears so loud an older woman at the other end of the deck jumps out of her chair.
“This is all my fault. You were drunk, and I should have said something.”
“No, Bertie!” She plunges into the dark waters of acceptance, loathing how they make her cheeks blush. “It was my choice to see him. The wine helped me along.”
“Shadow, I’ve known your obsession with him and should have interfered. What were you thinking? What outcome did you expect?”
The only sound is the crashing waves of the sea along the rocks as neither discusses the nature of what took place that night. Despite the rumors that she—Goddess, she couldn’t even utter the atrocious whispers that he took advantage. Not when every part of Avina longed for him to touch her. Not that she could have fought him even if she wanted to.
‘…you will sin with me, Avina.”His dark possession still haunts her dreams.
“You’re here for his championship match.” He does not ask it as a question, and she does not answer. “Then tell me this,” he finishes his wine and then waves down the waitress for another, “Are you engaged to that wretched cousin of Rendel? Samson Manchineel?”
Tears well in her eyes to match the raging blue of the waters below the deck.
Bertie squeezes her hand in his. “Your father is furious and intends to undo the engagement. I know you well enough that you do not intend to marry him.” His eyes are full of the same pity her father’s gaze held.
She is not comforted by her father’s intentions and is unsure why she returned to the Arena to witness Sigvid fight for his life. She guesses part of her sought refuge in her mutual hatred with the Salt Prince, and part of her longed to turn back time three winters ago.
What would have happened if she told him that she was the princess?
“You are mine now, Avina.”
She accepts the new glass of wine and meets Bertie’s gaze.
“I have a confession, cousin.” He sighs and looks around again—this time with a more worried expression. “Viktor is hardly ever home. His gambling pulls him around Treland so often I fear I will burst fromboredom.” He takes a clear breath to steady himself. “I have sought partnership with another. Viktor’s brother.”
Avina’s eyes grow wide, yet her lips remain closed.
“He has led me down a path of pleasure like I have never known.” His words drift off with his gaze.
