He lets out a deep breath that rattles his whole chest. “I know. I’m sorry, too.”
There’s a long pause, neither of us saying anything at all. I think we both know it’s time to let go; it’s just a matter of who’ll be strong enough to take that fateful step away.
I feel the tension radiating through Carter the second before he finally releases me — arms falling to his sides, legs backpedaling to create a bit of breathing room. His eyes avoid mine, locked instead on the oak panels of Chloe’s door, just over my shoulder.
“Thank you for helping get her back. I don’t think she’d be safe and warm and sleeping soundly if you hadn’t stepped in tonight. She’d probably be passed out on the floor of that club or screaming at me on a street corner for killing her buzz.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I meant what I said earlier. She’s my family. I love her.”
He looks at me then, and the stark longing in his gaze makes my heart seize violently, like someone’s got their fist around it.
“I know you do,” he says carefully. “And she loves you too.”
“It would probably be safer for her if she didn’t,” I say just as carefully.
I tell myself we’re still discussing the sister we share… but I think we both know we’re walking a tightrope, balanced precariously between the lines of an entirely different conversation.
“Why do you say that?” Carter asks. “That it’s not safe?”
I glance at my toes again. “People who love me have a tendency to end up dead. As long as she’s by my side, she’ll always be a target. BecauseI’malways going to be a target.”
“You can’t protect people from everything, Emilia. Life is full of danger, whether you’re the queen of a kingdom or a fucking mail carrier.”
He pauses long enough that I look up into his eyes again. They’re so blue — my favorite sea to drown in. As I watch, anger stirs to life inside their depths.
“We all die at some point. Even if standing by your side slightly decreases a person’s life expectancy… it’s not your call to make. You don’t get to decide who loves you, Emilia. And you definitely don’t get to push away the people who do, just because you’re scared to lose them.”
“This is not some baseless, irrational fear, Carter. People around me are in real danger. Look what happened to everyone in Vasgaard Square — they died because they had the misfortune of attending a speech I was giving! Their blood is on my hands.”
“No. It. Fucking. Isn’t.” His brow furrows with fury and frustration. “Their blood is on the hands of four terrorists, who committed a terrible sin in the name of some bullshit agenda and used you as an excuse to achieve it.”
“Semantics,” I mutter. “The end result is the same. People around me aren’t safe. Period.”
“You’re oversimplifying things, as usual. Seeing shit in black and white when, in reality, it’s all shades of gray.” He’s glaring at me now, his anger bubbling red-hot just beneath the surface. “You always do this — you get so far ahead of yourself worrying about all the potential ways shit can go wrong. And then you blow them up before they can fall apart on their own. Christ, Emilia, it makes me want to shake you sometimes!”
I glance away from him, unable to meet his eyes. I never enjoy being psychoanalyzed, but it’s particularly annoying when said analysis is so painfully accurate. “I’m sorry, but this is how I’m wired, Carter. I like preparation. I like knowing how things are going to play out.”
“No, you likecontrollinghow things are going to play out. There’s a difference.”
“As opposed to you, who just lets life happen to him?” I snap back. “Maybe I care too much about things, maybe I overanalyze until I drive myself crazy… but I’d rather be like that than like you. You’re so indifferent to everything that happens in your life, you might as well be asleep at the wheel. When was the last time you let yourself actually care about anything, Carter?”
His jaw clenches so tight, I think his teeth might crack. “You really want me to answer that question, Emilia? Because I have a feeling you already know the exact play-by-play of the last time I allowed myself to give a fuck about something. Aboutsomeone.”
I suck in a gulp of air that does nothing to calm me. Images of a night not so long ago, atop a castle turret, flash through my mind. I remember the look in Carter’s eyes when he told me, in no uncertain terms, that he was willing to fight for us. The passion on his face when he said he’d do just about anything to find a future in which we could be together. Mostly, though, I remember the hurt that flashed across his expression when I turned and walked away from him.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I do sabotage things before they have a chance to disintegrate on their own. After all, isn’t folding the cards on your terms far better than playing a losing hand?
I avoid his eyes as adeptly as I avoid his question. “Look, if it’s Chloe you’re worried about… I’m not going to hurt her. I’m going to help her get back on her feet, make sure she stays clean and sober. I promise.”
“And afterward?” Carter presses, relentless. “Once she’s clean? What happens then? What happens when you decide to cut her out of your life again, all in the name of keeping her safe?”
Frustration sparks inside me, sudden as a wildfire. “You act like me wanting to protect the people I love is some terrible crime! Don’t you understand that she might be better off without me in her life? That her existence would be far simpler if she lived it away from all the toxic bullshit that comes along with being a Lancaster?” I shake my head, exasperated at being painted as a villain when all I’m attempting to do is keep my sister safe. “Linus is dead. Octavia is officially out of power. There’s nothing tying Chloe to this life, anymore.”
“Nothing except you,” he murmurs knowingly. “Explains why you’re so damn determined to push her away.”
I don’t meet his eyes. I can’t. I’m afraid of the sadness he’ll see in them; the unbearable loneliness that overtakes me whenever I look into the future and see what awaits me.
An empty castle.