“Thank you.”
She nods and closes the door behind her.
I sink down into my bed alone. Every time I shut my eyes, I see Emmett against the wall, Emmett in bed, Emmett vowing to love someone else.
After what feels like ages, I can bear it no longer and push myself up out of bed.
I crack open my door and find the hallway still and empty, though the revel below buzzes through the walls and up the stairs.
I knock on the door at the end of the hall first, but know I will find it empty. I understand now why there was no bed. He never slept there.
I pass throngs of partygoers on my way to the east wing. Tonight, they’re dressed in shades of gold. Somewhere within the throne room, I have no doubt Bram is in costume as Midas.
A few try to press cups or sweets into my hand as I pass, but I push through them and out into the cold air of the courtyard.
It’s damp tonight. Not quite raining, but misting like the sky can’t make up its mind. It clings to my skin and hair, so by the time I enter the foyer of the east wing, I’m shivering.
There’s a servant girl tending to the entryway fire and I ask her the way to Lady Thalia’s rooms.
“Second floor, last door on the left,” she instructs.
The door is unlocked, which surprises me, but maybe after hundreds of years of living together, the faeries in Bram’s court don’t bother with locks.
The room is draped in greens so dark they’re almost black. Inthe middle of the space looms the massive canopy bed from the visions in the cave. The sight of it makes my eyes water. I didn’t doubt what the cave showed me, but here is further confirmation that it was real.
I take a seat in the hard wooden desk chair and wait.
It doesn’t take long before the door creaks open, Emmett’s tall form silhouetted in the entrance. I was ready to confront Lady Thalia, but I’m glad it’s him.
He jumps as he sees me. “Ivy?”
“Tell me the truth.” I’m desperate for my voice to sound cold instead of brokenhearted.
“What are you doing here?” he asks urgently. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Tell me, Emmett. Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“You know what!” My voice breaks. “You’ve been married all this time and you never thought to tell me.Married, Emmett!”
His face crumples. “Ivy, please. I never meant for you to find out.”
“That’s worse!” I shout. “You do see how that’s worse, don’t you?” I turn, ready to leave. All I needed was confirmation.
“Ivy, wait,” he calls.
This emotion, this need torunwhen things get hard, is so familiar it startles me. I have a vision of myself this spring, running to Queen Mor and asking her to make me forget Emmett. I felt just like this then, a trapped animal, and in making that bargain, I hurt Emmett more than I ever could have anticipated.
I don’t want to be the kind of person who runs. I want to stand and face things.
I take a steadying breath and face him.
His face is so beautiful, it’s heartbreaking. He’s looking at me, wide open and full of grief.
“Can we just talk, please?” His voice is barely a whisper. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You haven’t just hurt me, you’ve made me a fool.”
