Chapter 52
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
MORGANA
I had to practically run out of the room before the guards tackled me, as if I had been the one to cause a ruckus.
Just as I breached the door, the king ordered the guards to let us be. I let out a breath of relief and chased after Erynna and Aster, who were already bickering halfway down the hall. I slowed once I was a beat behind them, my footsteps quiet, my presence largely ignored.
“Are you actually so daft to cause such a scene in front of the only king meaner than our father?” Erynna said between her teeth. “We are going to have our heads strung as lanterns outside the castle’s entrance if you are not careful.”
“Perhaps that is preferable, sister. At the very least, we would be one step closer to ending this terrible plague.”
Erynna’s eyes narrowed, her shoulders so tense they seemed like they could crack. “Ending the plague by making enemies left and right, Aster? You seem to forget the delicate balance we are maintaining to secure your position. To protect Verdantis from the only other thing more likely to destroy it than Vespera’s shores.”
Erynna huffed out in frustration and stormed off, leaving Aster standing there with a clenched jaw. His stare briefly flickered to mine before twisting it away. A pang of uncertainty washed through me, and I shifted to the spot next to him. “What is the matter, Aster?” I said softly, mindful of the guards slowly exiting the dining room. They were too far to overhear, but I had no doubt they’d do whatever they could to eavesdrop.
Aster’s shoulders slumped as he let out a heavy sigh. It was like there was a crown of thorns piercing deeper into him, holding him firmly in place with those crimson eyes a tempest of so many different emotions. He opened his mouth once, twice—and then he fell quiet. Finally, just as I reached for him, he took a step back and shook his head. “There are things at stake here, Morgana. Things that are far more important than my well-being,” he said, hissing beneath his breath. My jaw fell.
“Now, that isn’t fair. I can talk with you about your well-being all while toying with the spoiled princes.”
Aster looked like he almost wanted to chuckle, but his face was this stone-cold picture of indifference. It almost made me shudder. “Then it is not a question of what you’re able to focus on. It is a command. Do not ask me what is wrong. Not now, little dove. Spare me from it.”
His words cut through me. He started to turn away, the distance between us this insurmountable beast. “Now that certainly isn’t fair. I’m going to ask you once more. What is the matter with you?”
This time, my question held malice. I’d grown tired of the tone, of the frigid indifference he’d held toward me since waking yesterday. It was like something within him had snapped—and, again, I found myself fearing all that I’d given to him.
When he hadn’t so much as sighed in response, I was certain he’d not heard it. Aster stiffened, turning his head so I could see his profile. I clutched onto my dress, fearing it’d tear. “No, truly, Your Greatness. I beg of you—give me the solace of knowing what gives you the right to treat me as if I am not putting my life on the line in your name. For nothing more than what I am owed, mind you.”
“My name?” Aster repeated with cool indifference. Finally, he faced me again, his frame blocking the large windows that cast a halo around him as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Little dove, let us not forget what the situation is here. What our roles are.”
“Damn the roles. Damn them to hells.” I took a daring step closer to him and bared my teeth. “What is wrong with you? What have I done?”
His face settled into this terrible misery. I saw the lethargy beneath his eyes, the terrible sadness in his frown. But as quickly as it’d come to fruition, it vanished and that steely, distant neutrality returned. “What have you done?” He towered over me in a way that made me shrink—and, as if that weren’t enough, his shadows grew twice his size and overpowered the hall. The guards shuffled—and I wasn’t sure if it was toward us, or away from us.
In response, his magic enveloped us in this whooshing, windy cocoon. All the distant noises—the sounds of shuffling feet, the whispering gossip from passing guards and servants—silenced. It took everything in me to not watch them dance over us. To not cower in his power. “You have done nothing, Morgana Kyllingham. That is entirely the problem.”
My brows knitted together, and I took a half step back.
“You are amongst the lucky few who get this power, and you waste it. You are weak—” his voice cracked, and he scowled so deep, it hurt me , “—and naive. It is not what you have done, little dove, it is merely the fact that I have grown tired of waiting for you to be useful.”
My shoulders had slumped with each word, as if they’d weighed me down bit by bit. Brick by brick. “That is how you feel?” I whispered quietly. “All of the training. The admissions. The—” my voice failed at the thought. No, I wouldn’t give him the chance to relish my somber realization that our night was false. It was… it was fake. “It was all a ruse, and you’ve merely grown tired?”
I’d given my all to him. I’d warred with myself between lust and hatred and something indiscernible in the gray that existed in between, and I feared the consequences of such a mistake. I felt like I could collapse. Not in terror or submission, but in heartache.
Aster Sinclair had earned my trust.
And then he ruined it.
Why?
“You’re lying,” I whispered with a quiver in my voice. “What are you hiding? Is it some demented desire to live up to your reputation, Prince Aster? The cruel, shadow-cursed future king?”
He pointed a finger. “Do not ?—”
“The cursed, wicked, monstrous crown prince seeks his terror, is that it?” I quickly added and squared my shoulders. “Did you grow fearful that I did not fear you?”
“You do, and you should,” he hissed and took a resounding step forward. “The plague that exists within me also exists without. Vespera will be our end, and it is I who controls that fate.”
“Powerful,” I rasped with venom lacing my tongue. “Quite haunting, truly. But I do not fear you. I do not believe you.”
Aster was breathing heavily, and in that moment, I wondered if his heart raced as mine. If it ached as mine. “Morgana, if you wish to play the fool, that is your choice. But the sooner you accept that it is not you I desire, the better. The sooner you… you?—”
“The sooner I what?” I said, all but yelling and shoving a flat hand into his chest. “The sooner I can continue loathing you? Congratulations, Aster. You’ve done a fine job at that, with or without the show.”
This one had cut deep. He winced and snatched my wrist. I yanked it back so I was not forced to touch him, tears brimming in my eyes. “You are to continue searching for that mirror, Miss Kyllingham. Until then, I do not care to hear from you.”
Aster twisted away, the shadows crashing over us like a wave. Before he’d turned the corner, I said, “You are a coward, Prince Aster. A cruel, lying coward.”
He paused, but within seconds, he’d vanished. I flinched, my lip quivering. It was the kind of despair that had to be silenced—not by my hand or tongue, but by the numbness I’d spent years learning to forget.
If Aster wanted to break my heart, he would not get the privilege of seeing it.
I would suffer—for the trust I’d built so quickly, for the vulnerability I’d given him so easily—but it would not be a topic of gossip.
In the end, Aster Sinclair was a monster.
The worst kind I could have envisioned.