“Those hands could be mine,” I say, but the words ring false. I look into his eyes. There are little flecks of gold there right in the center. So warm. So lovely. Could I really take the light from them?
Or would I sooner let him destroy me first?
“Yes, they could be yours,” he says, picking up my hands from my lap and studying them. He strokes a finger along my palm, and I shiver.
I can’t think straight with him touching me, and I know he can feel it. If I don’t do something to break this moment, I’m going to end up pulling him to me, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop.
“Well, then,” I say, forcing the words from my mouth before I do something else with it. “There’s really only one conclusion: you’re a moron.”
“Like I said, absolutely yes.”
Can he stop being charming for five minutes?
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he says. “But I told you I want you at my side. And after today, it seems like I need you there. But I don’t care what my magic is trying to demand from me. I won’t take your choice from you. I’m going to ask you to do something, and I only want you to do it if you want to. Deal?”
I nod my head slowly.
“I want you to join me in the royal box tomorrow. And for the rest of the festival as well.”
“The tournament is continuing?” I had thought they would cancel it after tonight’s events.
“That’s what all the commotion was about earlier. They wanted me to cancel it, but I refused. I made a promise to my people, and I intend to deliver on it. There will be extra security, but the show will go on.”
Adria will be happy, at least.
“Oh, gods. We have to watch Quinn fight Adria.”
He laughs. “Absolute nightmare scenario. Either Quinn wins and she’s insufferable forever—”
“And Adria burns the arena to the ground. Or Adria does—”
“And Quinn roasts her on the spit at the after party.”
I laugh with him, and I know what my answer will be.
“I’ll join you, Ronan.”
There are so many things for me to sort through after tonight, so many thoughts and feelings that I don’t know how to even name, let alone what I should decide to do about them.
But I know one thing quite clearly: I want to be at his side.
The rest I can think about later.
Chapter Twenty
Adria is waiting for me when I finally make it back to the room. She stands near the window, arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression unreadable.
I brace for her response. She hasn’t hit me since we were children, but if anything is going to provoke violence, it’s this.
“Un-be-fucking-lievable,” she begins, meeting me at the door. Her blonde hair is dark and wet, fresh from the baths, and she’s already in her nightgown. I guess she got the message that I was alright. “I can’t believe you did it.”
I try to move past her into the room, but she stops me. “You did it. You saved the plan.”
Come again?
“You’re not mad?”
Adria laughs, and then she pulls me into a hug.
