I hate seeing him like this—so cruel and callous, so like his father—but a smile touches my face at the mention of Elodie. She’s been here, fighting for me. Petitioning Alaric on my behalf, despite everything.
I’ve never had a friend as stalwart and determined as Elodie Tomasko, and I know I don’t deserve her, but I vow to spend the rest of my life earning her friendship—supporting her as she’s supported me.
“What could you possibly have to smile about?” Alaric snaps. “What could you have to say that warrants threatening my guards and interrupting me in my council chambers?”
The smile drops off my face, and I look down. “I just wanted to thank you for saving my life.”
Alaric snorts and cocks his head, regarding me like a smear of manure on his boots. “I did no such thing.”
“You did,” I argue before I can stop myself, earning severalscandalized looks from the councilors. “When my sister sent me over the cliff’s edge—”
Alaric cuts me off. “You sister has been dead for months. These are clearly the ravings of an addled mind.”
Everything in me screams at me to tell him he’s wrong. To explain how Rowenna was hiding in plain sight, manipulating us all. But he won’t believe a word I say, so I decide to show him a memory instead, featuring someone he does trust.
I bring a pebble to my lips and softly sing, releasing the memory of Alaric and Besnik as boys, sword fighting in this very room, laughing as they jump from sofa to sofa.
The councilors gasp with disbelief, and Alaric goes rigid.
“Stop this at once!” he shouts, batting at the golden images as if he can clear them like smoke. “Where did you find this? How could you possibly—”
“Youshared this memory with me,” I whisper. “You taught me how to call them forth.”
Alaric’s lips part, as if ready to dismiss my claims, but he rakes his hands roughly through his hair, because he knows it’s the only logical explanation. No one, other than himself and an old woman who’s long dead, has this skill.
“Out!” he shouts, surprising everyone when he waves at the councilors and guards rather than me. “Everybody out! I need to have a word alone withmy wife.”
Von Nevus and the others loudly protest. It isn’t safe. I can’t be trusted. Alaric needs to explain the vision they just saw. But he shoos them all into the hall like a brood of clucking chickens.
Once the doors are closed, he takes several deep breaths, then turns to face me. “How did you do it? You clearly wormed inside my head and stole my memories. I haven’t shared that moment with anyone, let alone a…a…”
“Murderous Tashiri princess?” I supply wryly, hoping to elicit asmile, but Alaric’s eyebrows draw even lower.
“This isn’t a joking matter. The security of my nation is on the line.”
“I know. That’s why I came.” I squat down and lay out the pebbles containing the memories I siphoned to prove my innocence. “I can only imagine the lies your councilors have told you about me, and I know you don’t remember what happened on the mountaintop—or anything that came before,” I add, voice wobbling. “ButIdo remember. And I can show you the truth, if you’d like to see it. Truths you willingly shared with me. Momentsweshared before you sacrificed them all to save my life.”
Alaric sputters and shakes his head. “How do I know these supposed ‘memories’ are real and not something you fabricated? And if they’re genuine, how do I know I shared them with you, and you didn’t steal them out of my head?”
“If your father wasn’t able to steal your memory of the day he tried to kill you but killed Besnik instead by ripping the floor out from under him, I assure you that I, a Tashiri planter with no prior knowledge of your memory sacrifices, could never manage it.”
Once again, Alaric’s eyes widen. “You know about Besnik?” he whispers, shaking his head again. “You couldn’t. Not unless—”
“Youshowed me,” I finish for him.
We lock eyes, and that gorgeous storm-gray sears through me. Without looking away, I squeeze another pebble in my fist and sing the secret words.
A whoosh of cool air rustles through my tattered clothes, and the golden light of the past surrounds us, transporting us back to the rambunctious, laughing brothers riding the bookcase ladder. Instead of watching the memory, however, I watch Alaric—noticing the exact moment his jaw unclenches and his eyes go glassy.
When I reach for the next stone, Alaric doesn’t stop me, so I show him the moment things began to change between us—when we came to each other’s defense in the queen’s salon. Followed by the two of usin my planting beds, growing bagrava.
There’s so much more I want to show him, so much more heneedsto see, but I don’t want to overwhelm him, and even more important, I want it to be his decision. I want Alaric towantto see the truth—to wantmeand the future we were fighting for. So I place the rest of my pebbles in a line on the floor to do with as he pleases, and back away with a small bow.
“I’ll return to my prison cell now, and I won’t make any more trouble if you choose to leave me there, now that you’ve seen the truth. But if you ever want to see more. If you want to know the full breadth of your bravery—and the beautiful story ofus,” I add shyly, “you know where to find me.”
I steal one last glance at his gorgeous, bewildered face, then I turn on my heel and walk myself out of the council chamber—into the mob of furious councilors and guards waiting on the other side of the door.
Fifty-One
