“My father pretended not to know of my involvement with him. But I know that he knew. He said he was hanged for treason, and for the crime of leading a rebellion. Those things are true, but that’s not the real reason. I know my father knew about us, and very soon before we left, he brought me to the square perfectly in time with when it was happening. I was too late. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t even know they were planning it.”
She has kept this inside all this time. This soul-crushing thing that happened to her. And what’s happening to so many people. I have so much more understanding of my friend, suddenly. My heart aches for her.
“I’m so sorry, Meela,” I whisper. I want so badly to hug her, but I know she won’t want it. She’s stronger than I could ever be. She faces her father here every day, knowing what he did. Why? I don’t know.
“Now you know,” she mutters, taking a large swig.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the other stuff? The things that are happening out there…”
“You’re the princess.”
“And? You’ve known me my whole life.”
“I have. And you’re incredibly too caring and empathetic. There was nothing you could do. And it would only shatter your naïve view of the world, crushing your spirit along the way. There was no point.”
I can’t be mad at her. She’s right about most of it. I am incredibly naïve, and I’m learning that more every day. But she’s wrong about one thing. “What if there was something?”
“What?”
“What if there was something we could do? To end this reign of terror, to stop the suffering?”
She dismisses the notion. “There’s not.”
Okay, so she’s lost all hope. But she doesn’t know everything I know. Maybe if she knew we had an actual chance…
I can’t tell her without consulting Raef and Daegan, but I am going to talk to them. She deserves the chance. She might not even want to help, but she’ll keep our secret. I know it.
“How do you face him every day?” I inquire, barely above a whisper.
“I don’t, most days. Avoidance.”
“And when you can’t avoid him?”
“Strangely, I remember Zave, and it calms me.” She stretches her legs out, glancing at nothing. “Though I can barely remember his face anymore…”
My chest aches at the thought. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
She shrugs.
“Now you know. But I like to keep his memory for myself, so let’s not start talking about this all the time.”
“Okay,” I say softly. “If that’s what you want.”
“Anyway.” She takes another big gulp. “My point is… who gives a fuck if you have feelings for a dragon shifter. Go for what you want.”
I shake my head slowly. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone from hating everything that I am to barely tolerating me,” I scoff.
“Then why does he hang around you all the time lately? He might be even more miserable than me, so I don’t see why else he’d waste his time if there wasn’t something there that interests him...”
I think that over as I play with the hem of my dress. This one is a little harder to explain.
“Who knows,” I say, standing and brushing it off. “I don’t even know what I really want, anyway.”
“Who does?”
I laugh. “I’m going to have a quick bath and get in bed.”
“Okay. I’ll probably just crash out here.”
