Chapter Thirty-Eight #3
My throat burned, wanting to have someone to confide in, yet wanting to keep it to myself.
“It started a few months after—after what happened to my family. It took me years to get it under control, but then a few months ago something—someone—triggered it. I’ve had no control over when they happen since. ”
Like now.
What had triggered such an episode?
“Don’t pretend like you care, Valeris,” I said. “It’s beneath you.”
We’d grown too friendly, and I needed to reestablish the divide between us.
“Just because I act like a cocky jerk ninety percent of the time doesn’t mean I’m not a different person for the other ten. We all have a past, horrible things that were done to us. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You’re a prince. How horrible could your life have been?”
A mask came over his features, steeling them, and he leaned against the opposite wall. “You would be surprised.”
I let out a laugh. “Oh, really? Only one mattress to sleep on instead of two?”
He clenched his jaw, my comment lighting a fire of fury in his eyes.
“Do you know why I like to go down to the city in a mask when no one can see me? I like to watch the people in the village square, watch how the parents interact with their children, shower them with attention. It amazes me. It’s like magic, something so unfamiliar that I will never be able to touch.
I’ve watched the husbands interact with their wives. The devotion. The care. The love.
“The first time someone told me a family was supposed to work as a unit that loved one another, I laughed in their face. Our royal family is a unit, but in terms only. We keep a good face for the sake of the kingdom, act strong, but I don’t ever recall sharing a laugh or a loving moment with either my siblings or my parents.
I think the only time my parents were ever that close to one another was when they decided it was necessary to produce another child.
Not out of love or desire. My father has a very particular taste in his women.
Then again, heaven forbid anyone touch or harm the queen because on an off day it could send my father into a jealous rage strong enough to start a war.
But I don’t ever recall them looking at each other as more than a piece for political gain.
The only love I ever experienced in the traditional sense came from my uncle.
“So yes.” He drove his point home. “I may have had every pleasure this kingdom and palace had to offer at my disposal, but that doesn’t mean I partook of it. And I would have traded all of it for a straw loft to sleep in with a functional family that lived with love.”
His hard eyes flit away, looking to the grate holding us prisoner.
The weight of shame crashed over me like a deafening wave, and I wished I could take my words back.
I couldn’t imagine growing up without my family, growing up without their love.
Where would I be if I had endured such a life?
Losing them had been the worst thing I had ever experienced, but I wouldn’t wish never knowing their love to avoid the pain.
The pain kept them in my memory, kept me strong.
Sane. I had misjudged him. This prince who I thought did nothing more than try to achieve personal gain.
Perhaps there was a heart concealed behind his shell after all.
“I’m sorry.” The words tasted like sawdust in my mouth.
He let out a bitter laugh, “Aren’t we all?”
I swallowed. “I possess a tendency to forget that not everyone was given the same advantages in life. We are all given different ones. Having a family that loves you and loves one another is a privilege—a privilege I have known well. I can’t imagine trying to survive life without it, and I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. ”
He said nothing. Water dripped from somewhere farther up the tall ceiling, no doubt a leak from the earlier rains.
“At least you still have a brother,” Valeris said. “I hope he is one you can trust.”
“He is.”
The door in the other room splintered open with a crash, its now-multiple pieces smacking across the far wall.
“Valeris!”
His hulking bodyguard stormed into the room, fury raging in his wild eyes.
“You know, Howland,” Valeris scooted closer to the grate. “This is one of those times when I wish you would have found me sooner.”
Howland marched over, glaring at the grate as if he could bend it with his bare hands. “You started without me. On purpose. Seven blazing dungeons, Valeris, how did you get yourself into this mess?”
“You would’ve made a terrible sailor, Howland,” Valeris muttered. “The trigger mechanism is on the mantel.”
I heard it when he found the slot, and the grate popped open. Valeris ushered me out, following close behind.
“What—” Howland began.
Valeris rushed past, scrambling out into the stairwell. “Thanks, but no time to talk, Howland. I should’ve been in the throne room long ago.”
I hurried after him, pushing myself to keep pace, our conversation running through my mind. He didn’t slow, and for the first time I wondered what losing the competition would cost him.