“I saved you because I need you. There’s nothing noble about it.”
“Isn’t there?” she studied my face with those dark eyes that saw too much. “You could have taken me by force. Could have threatened me, tortured me, used chains with suppression magic to bind me completely. But you didn’t.”
“That would have made you useless.”
“You chose the method that caused less pain, even though it’s probably less effective.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Protected me. Built a fire to keep me warm. Tended my wounds with hands that were surprisingly gentle for someone trained to kill.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. Or rather, I had answers I wasn’t ready to examine too closely. Something about her called to parts of myself I’d thought dead, made me want to protect rather than simply use.
“My mother used to say that kindness was a choice,” she continued. “That every small mercy was an act of rebellion against a world that rewarded cruelty.”
“Your mother was an idealist. Look how that ended for her.”
The words were harsher than I’d intended, designed to shut down a conversation that was heading into dangerous territory. But instead of flinching or falling silent, Seris leaned forward, her eyes bright with sudden intensity.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… How did it happen?”
“I don’t know. All I know is she burned. I don’t know exactly why. I don’t know what she did to deserve it, or what it means to be a Fae of the Veil.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I was seven years old, hiding in a closet while they dragged her away. I never got to say goodbye.”
The pain in her voice was raw, unguarded. Real in ways that made my chest tighten with something I refused to name. She was trusting me with her grief, offering vulnerability as a gift I hadn’t earned.
I should have used it against her. Should have filed it away as a weakness to exploit later.
Instead, I found myself speaking.
“During my time under his command, I watched the King execute many I believed were innocent. It taught me a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“That my father was a monster. That the kingdom he ruled was built on foundations of blood and terror. That someone needed to stop him before he destroyed everything worth saving.”
She reached across the space between us, her fingers brushing against mine where they rested on my knee. The contact was brief, barely a touch, but it sent electricity racing up my arm.
“Is that why you’re doing this? Not just to break the curse, but to stop him?”
“Both,” I admitted. “The curse will kill me regardless, but at least this way my death might accomplish something useful.”
“I thought whether you lived or died was up to me?”
“That’s what I’m hoping. Speculation based on shallow research. There’s a slim chance I’m correct.”
“You’re not going to die,” she said with surprising fierceness. “I won’t let you.”
She reached for my hand, and I didn’t pull back. Her fingers were warm, still pulsing faintly with her magic.
I looked down at our joined hands, her skin pale against my darker fingers. Such a simple contact, yet it felt like something significant was shifting between us. Something that went beyond necessity or mutual benefit.
Something dangerous.
“Why?” I asked. “Why do you care if I live or die?”
She was quiet for a long moment, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Because you’re the first person in fourteen years who’s looked at me and seen something other than a monster. Because you’ve shown me kindnesses you didn’t have to show. Because…” She paused, searching for the right words. “BecauseI think you might be the only person I’ve met who understands what it’s like to carry something dark inside you and still try to choose what’s right.”
An unfamiliar warmth washed over me, but it was accompanied by the weight of my past. I wondered if she would still feel this way if she knew what I had done to be here today. I desperately wished she would.
Thunder crashed outside, shaking the tower’s foundations. The storm was directly overhead now, turning the world beyond the windows into a wall of wind and water. But inside, in the warmth of the firelight, something was building between us that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with recognition.
