“Go speak with her,” my grandfather says quietly.“Thatgirl was meant to be your queen.”
“I’ll try,”Isay.“Idon’t know ifIcan convince her.”
“You’ll never know unless you try,” he points out.“Don’tspend your life regretting a lost love, my grandson.Youneed a good woman by your side to take my place on the throne.”
The thought of me ruling the kingdom makes my head spin.It’stoo fucking strange to think about right now.Butthe idea of losingElowenis what’s on my mind right now.
I make up my mind–Ihave to at least try.She’llprobably be horrified and tell me to go toHell, butIcan’t help it–Ihave to ask if she’llBondwith me and myDrakeand stay with me forever.
Otherwise, my grandfather is right–I’llregret it forever.
76
ELOWEN
The room they’ve given me is far too grand for someone like me.
The bed alone could sleep a dozen people.It’sdraped in heavy velvet curtains the color of deep wine and the canopy above it embroidered with gold thread that catches the flicker of the firelight.
A wide hearth burns steadily across from it, the flames warm and steady, filling the chamber with a soft glow that makes everything look richer, softer…like something out of a dreamIdon’t belong in.
I stand in the middle of it anyway, hugging my arms around myself as thoughImight somehow take up less space.
On the far wall, across from the bed, an oval mirror gleams in a carved wooden frame, tall enough to show me from head to toe.Idon’t mean to look—butIdo.
And thenIwishIhadn’t.
I look pale.Drawn.Mycheeks are still flushed from crying and my hair a tangled mess of red curls from the bath and everything that came after.Butit’s my eyes that stop me.
They are very,verygreen.Greenin a way that marks me.Noone looking at me can mistake me for anything other than whatIam—a half-breedFaewho’s no longer a virgin and who doesn’t have a husband.
I press my lips together and look away, my throat tightening asImove to sit on the edge of the bed.Themattress sinks under my weight, soft as a cloud, andIcurl my fingers into the rich velvet fabric of the coverlet.
The luxury is nice, butIwon’t be here long enough to get used to it.I’llleave early in the morning—before anyone is awake, before anyone can stop me.BeforeIhave to stand in front ofTheronand say goodbye.
BecauseIwon’t be able to.Notafter seeing him killed and then brought back to life.Iwon’t be able to handle another parting.Justthe thought of it makes my chest ache.
Theron has found his place.Isaw it the moment theKing—his grandfather—looked at him, the way theCourtresponded, the way theDrakestood in that vast hall like something ancient and rightful and powerful.Hebelongs here.Hewas always meant to be here.
He will make a good king.
Better than good—he has the strength, the temper, and the sense of fairness.Heknows what it is to struggle, to work, to live among ordinary people.Hewon’t be cruel or careless with power.He’llbe exactly what this kingdom needs.
ButIdon’t belong at his side.
The thought settles over me like a weightIcan’t quite shake, no matter how muchIwishIcould.Istare down at my hands, at the ring still gleaming on my finger—the twin stones, sapphire and emerald, catching the firelight asItwist it slowly around and around.
I shouldn’t be wearing this.Ishouldn’t have let myself believe…even for a moment that he could still care for me.
A sob rises in my throat, andIswallow it down, pressing my lips together hard.Ishould have told him about the witch from the very beginning.Ishould have trusted him with the truth instead of keeping it hidden, even ifIdidn’t understand it myself.
And even if he forgave me—even if he wanted me—what would that change?
I am not a queen.I’ma disgraced priestess.Achubby, half-breedFaegirl with no family, no standing, no place in a royal court.Iwouldn’t know how to behave, how to rule, how to be what he needs.
I would only drag him down.
My vision blurs again andIblink hard, swiping at my eyes with the back of my hand.Idon’t even know whereI’llgo afterIleave.Backto the temple?Butthey won’t take me with my green eyes.Somewhereelse, then?