Safiya followed close behind. “I don’t believe that.”
“You should. I am done letting others make decisions for me. There are no chances left.” Ayla fled deeper into the room, trying to feign indifference, but Safiya knew her better than that.
“I can’t go on without you,” Safiya whispered, head low.
Ayla laughed, a bitter restraint. “Do not put that on me. I can’t be the only light in your darkness. I can’t be the only thing you live for. You need to find something else because it’s not fair to me. It’s not fair because I have always been there for you. Always. But where were you when my thoughts were racing, and I couldn’t breathe? Where were you when my anxiety was so bad I couldn’t eat or sleep or focus on a single Goddesses damned thing besides the ache in my gut?”
Safiya opened her mouth to respond, to defend herself, but the look Ayla shot her way was chilling—silencing.
“You weren't there! And fuck if I don’t love you anyway. You killed my father—the man I thought was my father—andI still love youbecause if there is one thing I have ever done well, it is love those who hurt me. Well, no more. I can’t continue to tear myself apart for you. I won’t. So do whatever you want, Safiya. Stay or leave. Just let me go.” Ayla swiped tears from her eyes with violent surety, and it broke Safiya’s heart into a thousand new shards.
“You’re right,” Safiya agreed. Her voice was shadowed with the swell of her aching, regretting heart. “About all of it, but I’ll fix it. I swear, I will.”
“There is no fixing it! Don’t you get it? I’ve worn myself down to the fucking bone, Safiya! I have given every little piece of myself to you and Claudian and Tarquin. And I have gotten nothing in return. There is nothing left to fix. I can only start over and try to choose differently this time—try to choose myself.” Ayla shook her head, the curtain of her silky hair falling in front of her face. When she met Safiya’s eye once more, her gaze was empty. There was no love, no hate. She had given all she had, and there was nothing left for Safiya to hold on to.
“I will not make your decision for you, but I refuse to give up. It’s my turn to fight for you—for us. I will not turn my back on Seren and Harkin and Théo. They are my friends too,” Safiya argued. “I will not run and hide anymore.”
Ayla looked at her, long and parsing. She nodded, but her eyes were tight. In that one gaze, Safiya could tell it was not a lost cause. She would earn back Ayla’s love if it was the last thing she did.
Safiya let out a heavy sigh, leaving Ayla and settling in an alcove out of the way as she considered the way forward.
Ignatius Imre and Araceli Basa did not notice Safiya as they passed her, the two speaking in rapid tones. “Claudian wishes the coronation to go flawlessly. It is our responsibility to ensure it is done.”
Claudian?
Safiya melted further into the shadows as she strained to hear Ignatius’s response.
“All will go according to plan. Aranti will not let us down.” He laughed, and Safiya’s stomach lurched into her throat.
“He had better not,” Araceli sniffed. “Have Mira keep an eye on him. If he warns the others, our carefully laid plans will be forfeit,and I'd hate to ruin my gown with the blood of his relatives. Such a waste.”
Safiya held her breath so she would not give herself away. The moment they were gone she lurched forward, sprinting aimlessly down the halls, only knowing that she must find her friends before it was too late.
Chapter sixty-three
Seren
The solstice arrived in the quiet of the night. I expected such an anticipated day to begin with fanfare, but instead it started as any other. Between the council meetings and the wedding preparation, I hardly found a minute to breathe, and the exhaustion washing through me reminded me that sleep too was a thing of the past.
I finally maneuvered a gap into my busy schedule, and I wanted nothing more than to settle into my plush duvet for some much needed rest. I trudged down the hall. The call of my pillows and the knowledge that, later that day, I would be marrying the man I loved were the only things that kept me going.
My room was locked, and I fumbled in my trouser pockets for the gold key within. It slid into the lock with ease and turned with a click.
I caught sight of the room for the briefest moment before the image turned on its side. There was pain in my temple—sharp and fierce—and when I raised my fingers to the tender skin, they came away bloody.
My vision turned spotty as my head rolled across the stone floor. I caught only a glimpse of red and gold and a sneering smile before the pain lanced through me once more and the world went black.
Dim light illuminated the room, tilting as my vision spun. My head pounded the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat. I groaned and stirred but found I could not move for the ropes at my wrists and ankles. Fear and confusion overtook me, and my pulse rocketed.
A voice disrupted my panic. “Ah, good. You’re awake.”
I tried to make out the person's face, but the figure was blurred. I blinked hard until my sight finally cleared.
Before me was the smug form of Claudian Sgalier.
Confusion brewed at the forefront of my mind. I tried to understand what had happened, but I could not quite grasp it. Claudian was in the dungeons, arrested for treason. At least, he should have been.
“Did you really think it would be so easy to defeat me?” He asked, glib. “I have spent my entire life fostering connections and loyalties in this kingdom. Only death would have prevented us from ending up right here, time and again.”
