He holds up a hand. “I cannot stop your bickering, nor fix your shared distaste for one another. But while you’re assigned to this task, I ask that you don’t undermine him. And certainly no laying of hands—and that goes for Devin, too. If either of you breaks these rules, there’ll be severe consequences.”
There’s a roaring in my blood. Anger I’m trying to suppress. I bow lightly. “Of course then, myKing.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t call me that.”
I stalk toward him until I am at an arm’s length. “Why do you dismiss my formality with you? Why can’t anyone know about this dagger? Why does Devinhateme?”
“You know more than I do,” he whispers, holding my gaze.
“Don’t. Donotdo that. You will not prance around the truth. I was within your circle as a soldier years ago. When I watched you walk into that reflection room with Lyra—” I jab a finger at his chest.
He takes a step back, flinching in shock, and I follow him to keep thesame space between us.
“—I remembered. You took me in there before. When I found out about my brother being missing. And you…” I let my hand relax and my finger slide down his shirt for a moment before I drop my hand completely. My breath shudders in my chest as the emotions tumble in.
Pain. Fear. I’m experiencing it all over again.
I flit my gaze up to him, already watching me with a storm brewing in his eyes. Licking my lips to rid the dryness, I continue, “You held me in there. Brushed…brushed your hand down my hair.” I shake my head, tearing my gaze out of his to look at the bookshelf beside us.
“Yes,” he murmurs softly. “Keep going.”
I stroll along the bookshelf and glide my fingers across a shelf. Hundreds of books are tucked tight into each section. I can only wonder if he’s read them all, or simply collects them. “You have the Blood Ring.”
He clears his throat. “I do.”
I stop at a section on the bookshelf with an empty slot. As I survey the rest of the bookshelf, it’s theonlyempty spot. Turning, I glance at the desk and then at Cyrus. “Are the trials to test us for it?”
He nods once.
“Why?” I slip my hand off the bookshelf to face him entirely.
“Not everyone can wear it.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Not even you?”
He flinches, the movement subtle but I catch it in his shoulders. “No. Not even me.”
“This entire competition isn’t because you’re yearning for love, is it? It’s because you need someone to wield the ring.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, then leans a hip into one of the tufted armchairs. “I want it to be for both, but I don’t think it’s possible.”
“And why is that?”
He shakes his head, eyes falling to the floor. Taking a deep breath, he responds, “Because it’s not possible to love someone like me. Not truly, anyway. And over time, I’ve come to accept that. BecausewhatI am will always overshadowwhoI am.”
I take a step closer to him, squinting at where I had sworn I saw fangs in the garden days ago. A trick of the light? Hallucination from stress and exhaustion? Or opium poppies, as Lyra suggested? “And what are you, exactly?”
He sweeps his gaze off the floor to me. “I am a King. I’m power, royalty, riches, and honor. If they do not fear me, they idolize me. And I’m afraid that the amount of power I have will always be why people surround me. Not because of who I am, but because of what I am.”
I frown, eyes trailing from his face down his shirt, his legs, to his boots. “You think they’ve all come here for the title of Queen. Not for love.”
He pushes up and walks to the hearth again. His back is to me. Using his boot, he toes a half-burned log up onto the others. “How can I blame them? And when one of them wants me dead? That they’re either here for fortune, power, title, or to kill me.”
“You’re afraid,” I murmur quietly.
He pauses, still staring down at the hearth. “That’s why I called upon you after the elimination. Before it, I wanted to consult with you before excusing some of the women, but you were angry with me. I couldn’t get you alone. I had to make choices—ones I fear might have been wrong.” He rests a forearm on top of the mantle. “I stayed hours in this room after the eliminations, pacing it like a madman. Thinking that maybe you’d come and I could explain things. Or I could at least know that keeping you wasn’t a mistake. That you still wanted to be here. And when you didn’t come, I thought…”
He blows out a breath. Something keeps me from walking to him. Something that keeps me silent.
