“You did not belong to her,” Claudian growled, emotion finally breaking across his stony face. His manipulative bounds could only stretch so far, it seemed. “You belong tome.”
“I belong to no one but myself,” Ayla countered, but her statement lacked conviction, as if she were not sure the words were true.
Claudian laughed—low and keening—like he knew as much.
“You admitted to wanting to rule from behind me. That I would just be some figurehead, a pretty face for the public to admire while you puppeteered Acsilla from the shadows. Youadmittedthat you think me incapable.” Ayla drew a long, shaky breath. “So, I just have one question for you. Did you ever love me? Or was I only ever a pawn in your game of revenge?”
Her lips pressed closed as soon as the words were out, as if she could not bear to let him see them wobble as her distress poured forth. I moved closer to her side in silent support. I understood far too well the pain of a parent's betrayal.
“I saved you! When your mother was dying, it was I who cut you from her body. My hands were coated in her life’s blood. When Tarquin cast you to the side, I was the one who was there for you all these years. And yet, you ask me if I have ever loved you?” Claudian spoke in a low, dangerous tone. His eyes narrowed.
Ayla began to cry in earnest. “But it wasn’t enough. I was never enough. If you truly loved me, you would have raised me as your own. You would not have bothered with the plots and ploys.I should have been enough.”
His gaze softened in a way that I found unconvincing, performative.
“Ayla, I think we should go. You’ve said what you needed to say.” I laid a hand on her shoulder and turned her away from the cell before Claudian could attempt to manipulate her further.
She nodded, brushing tears from her cheeks.
“You think your cousin will protect you better than I have? Love you like I do?” The prince laughed, a harsh sound of bitter amusement. “She won’t. I may have lied to you about her motivations—withheld her identity—but she will be the reason you lose everything. That is the truth.”
“Youwere very nearly the reason she lost everything,” I spat, moving between them. “I would never take advantage of someone I claim to love, but you clearly have no such qualms. You are no longer necessary. We will find a way forward, together, and you will remain here to rot.”
“Seren is right,” Ayla whispered. “You have taken advantage of me, time and again, and as much as I wish I might have known the man you were before all of the pain and hurt, I only know thisversion of you. I regret allowing you to treat me so poorly for so long.”
We retreated to the stairwell. Claudian’s eyes burned against my back, acidic in nature.
“You will not survive what is coming without me,” he said with a note of finality.
I turned to face him once more. “And what exactly is coming?”
Prince Claudian merely shrugged, rumpled and battered but ever clinging to his unbothered facade.
I was sure it was only another plan to free himself, to earn his way back into our good graces and put him in a position to seize power.
Ayla and I looked at each other, resolve in our eyes, and began to climb the stairs. The space darkened around us, the lights grew dimmer and sparser once more, but the feeling of foreboding that had once been had lifted.
The hard conversations were over.
Evil had been thwarted.
It was time to move forward and figure out, together, what the future of Acsilla would look like.
Chapter forty-four
Harkin
The passage of days idled without the looming threat of forcibly stolen mágik, betrayal, and blood. Save for Claudian, rotting away in the dungeons far below our feet, there was no evidence of the fight that had occurred. The ballroom was pristine once more, glimmering white marble and the shining gold throne. Claudian and Tarquin’s royal quarters remained untouched. The dungeon door had been locked with finality, and a fresh grave swelled in the burial ground.
King Tarquin had been buried in a private ceremony. Only Ayla, Seren, and the council had been allowed to attend. The public still did not know of the king’s fate or what had happened between the members of the royal family.
Seren had been cloistered away with Ayla and the council for days, discussing the way forward for Acsilla.
While I waited, I spent the majority of my time with Théo. The youngest council member was still weakened from his time in the dungeon, and the council encouraged him to take frequent breaks from their meetings—or to sit them out altogether. They sent for him when his input was needed and allowed him the freedom to recover otherwise.
It quickly became clear to me that Théo sided with Ayla in all matters. His presence during the discussions was, therefore, mostly unnecessary.
“Ayla is my sister. We grew up together in this palace. She saved me, lifted me up when I had no one. When I was apart from my family, she was the one who made me feel happiness again. I owe everything to her,” Théo explained.
