It made her wonder about the lives of the people who worked in the palace and Basilia. The people who worked in Alabria. She took a sharp breath, and thanked Rebecca for the sustenance before taking herself out of the room and determining that she would explore the library.
She still wasn’t tired. No. In contrast, she was invigorated, her thoughts churning.
She wandered down the hall, past some rooms that were dimly lit, empty. It was interesting how many spaces were in this house that didn’t look like they had ever been used. Or perhaps that was simply the result of the cleaning. And certain spaces hadn’t found their use yet.
Would she give birth to their child here?
Just thinking about spending nearly nine more months cooped up here, with a man who despised her as much as he had ever wanted her, filled her with the improbable twins of dread and hope. Because on the one hand it was difficult to stand being in the same room as him at the moment. But on the other hand, for many long years he had been the person she cared for most, next to her brother.
It wasn’t like it had vanished just because things were difficult between them now.
She was surprised to see light flooding out of the library into the hall, and she paused before entering. Then her heart froze.
Andrei was in there, sitting by the fire in a large armchair, holding a book in one hand.
It was as if he sensed her presence. He looked up, his eyes finding hers unerringly.
Like they always did.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’ve interrupted nothing,” he said, intangible emotion burning in his gaze. She could see it even from across the room. But he was, of course, never going to talk about it. Not going to admit it.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“What a strange phenomenon.”
“It must be strange,” she said. “Being here.” She was going to try to be nonconfrontational. She hadn’t expected to see him again tonight, but she had. So it seemed like it would be best if she didn’t start a row when the two of them were already exhausted.
The simple truth was, putting aside the events of the past few weeks, she had known this man since childhood. She cared for him. And—again forgetting that he was the architect of the current moment—he was back in his childhood home for the first time since before his parents had died. Confronting so many things that he’d never had to before.
She could perhaps find it in herself to simply connect with him. To do for him what she would’ve done had they not slept together. Had he not kidnapped her. Had they not eroded the foundation of all the care they had for one another in a single night.
“No stranger than anything else,” he said. “I have been a man outside myself ever since that ship went down. Basilia was not my home either.”
“It was,” she said. “My parents cared for you very much. They chose to bring you in and make you part of the family. If they were still alive…”
“What?”
Longing expanded inside her chest. If they were still alive, things would be so different. If they were still alive she would never have sought the marriage with King Lucian. She wouldn’t have had to. There would’ve been other treaties. Other ways that her father handled things.
Why do you think that? Do you really believe that Onyx isn’t the king that your father was?
No. She did. But Onyx was young. Not even thirty yet, and he didn’t have the time on the throne that her father had. If her father were a king now, fifty and with all that experience behind him, then things would be different.
They would all be different.
She wouldn’t have felt so desperate and driven to do this ultimate thing to honor her mother. Everything would be different.
“But it was not my home,” he said. “It was not my destiny. This was, but I cannot even return here and find my destiny because it is gone.”
“You said that you didn’t want it.”
“I don’t. But it is not a real choice, is it? All of my father’s legacies have been burned to the ground, Emerald. There is no less crime in the world. No less pain. Power vacuums are meant to be filled. And when one man falls, another rises. And so, many men have risen in the years since to take my father’s place. And they have died and others have been reborn to replace them.”
“It’s exceedingly grim,” Emerald said.
“Life is exceedingly grim. Or have you not come to understand that yet? Your parents were good people. They took in a half-drowned boy and it was not their responsibility to continue to care for me once I healed. But they did. And they are dead, just the same as my father, who never lifted a hand to save anyone or anything but himself.”
