And that is utter madness.
I cover my mouth with my hand as tears stream freely down mycheeks. All those years spent mourning a brother who never died. All those days spent longing to hold my kin and he was there in the very same city as me. All those moments watching my parents crumble … for nothing.
Sniffing back tears, I wipe my face with the heel of my hand and look at Jonas.
‘Why did the Goddess ask you to tell me?’ My voice cracks. ‘Why didn’t she simply tell me the truth when she gifted me?’
Given how Jonas has told me what he came to say, I expect his answer to come freely and without the sense of agitation that filled him when he arrived. And yet he stiffens slightly, that same nervousness continuing to radiate from him.
‘Jonas?’ I repeat. ‘Why did she not tell me herself?’
As soon as the words leave my lips, I suspect I already know the answer. It’s like a knife through my ribs. This revelation is not new information to him.
‘You knew the truth? All this time?’ I whisper the words, but Jonas flinches as if I screamed them.
His reaction is all the answer I need.
He knew.
He knew William was Florian.
My shock and anger are replaced by a whole new level of fury as I yank my hands free from his grasp and scramble away, skittering through the dust and grime on the floor. Memories of Florian doing the same on these very floorboards once more billow through my mind, and I don’t know whether I want to bat them away or pull them in closer than ever.
All I know is that I can’t forgive Jonas for this.
As I look back up at his tear-streaked face, I am filled with nothing but disgust.
This whole time. Every moment he and I spent together training and fighting side by side – hell, even kissing! – he knew that my brother was alive. My brotherlivedwith him. Wasraisedby him.
Jonas called William brother while I mourned mine.
‘You bastard!’ Rage rockets through me as I lunge to my feet, the skirts of my gown rippling around me. ‘You fucking bastard!’ I screamthe words, though insults are suddenly not enough. I want him to hurt like I do.
I need to cause him pain, the same pain he has inflicted on me, yet I can’t even strike out with my fist as I am too blinded by the tears that fill my eyes.
I go to scrape them away but stare at them in shock when they come away not as liquid, but as ice.
Fuck!
I stumble, clenching my hands, trying to draw breath. Not now. Not after everything.
‘Rose …’ Jonas croaks as he stands, but I don’t look at him. I don’t want to see that counterfeit concern that will mask the face of his betrayal. Don’t need his assurances of support or discretion. They mean nothing to me now. His words mean nothing. My heart clenches from a thousand pains, as if the ice is as internal as it is external.
I thought the Issen magic would be gone now that the Goddess has given me backmymagic. But of course it’s not. That would be too kind of the Gods.
If only the ice showed itself as a sword again instead of useless ice tears.
I wouldn’t plunge it through Jonas’s heart the way I did with Oke, but I would happily stab him a little. Gods know I would. He deserves pain for everything he kept from my family. From me.
For so many years I blamed Kyor alone for my family’s death and destruction, but Jonas could have saved my father by telling us the truth; of that I am sure.
And for that I will never forgive him.
Anger rolls through me in waves. Why does it have to be here, in my father’s office, that I learn his life could have been spared? The Gods must be laughing at this one.
When my vision finally clears, I look back at Jonas and find him gaping at me. His eyes are wide and bulging, not from shock at the ice shards littered around me, but from something far more visceral. A blue tinge stains his lips. His hands claw at his throat, and with a stilted breath I realise he isn’t breathing.
‘Jonas?’ I take a step towards him, but he stumbles back until he hits the wall, only to slide down it to the floor. ‘Jonas! What are you doing?’
