Chapter 20 #3
“No, you don’t. I will forever be waiting for the next knife to sink into my back.
Every time I think you can change, you betray me.
When will the next political crisis force you to choose between me and whatever benefits you?
After everything you’ve done, how am I ever supposed to trust you won’t choose politics over what is right?
Over me? I hate this! It’s not just you I can’t trust. I feel like I can’t even trust my own judgement. ”
He was quiet for a time, staring deep into his wine, as if it held the wisdom to assuage her doubts and cool the rage in her breast.
“I’m sorry. So deeply sorry. I know that counts for very little.
You gave me everything and I…I have proven myself unworthy of you.
Of your trust, your heart, your body, everything.
I don’t know what the future holds, only that I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying to earn your forgiveness—to be worthy enough just to stand in your presence. ”
Just more pretty words. She shouldn’t let them affect her.
“And if I told you to give up?”
He didn’t look like a man contemplating giving up. The deadly seriousness of his gaze made that clear.
“I can’t. You are my fate, Aurora. You are the only thing in the whole of Trisia I can’t live without. I love you.”
Tears stung her eyes. Had he ever told her that before?
Had he ever said those three precious words to her?
No, he’d spoken of affection and devotion, but never love.
Goddesses forgive her, but she wanted to believe him.
And it splintered something inside her. Her heart or her defences, she didn’t know.
“H-how dare you,” she said, her voice cracking, averting her gaze from him.
He got out of his seat and knelt at her feet, making it impossible to ignore him.
“I love you, Aurora. I should have said it sooner. I should have whispered it to you every morning when you woke, and every time I laid eyes on you throughout the day. You should have gone to sleep safe in the knowledge that I was irredeemably, irrevocably in love with you. And I should have proven it to you in every way a man can prove his love to a woman. I have been a prideful fool, and I know I am unworthy of saying it, but I love you.”
Tears rained down on the remains of her dinner. So many her plate was a blur.
“I h-hate you,” she sobbed. “How dare you do this to m-me?”
She was supposed to use him and discard him. She wasn’t supposed to care about him anymore. He’d broken her heart enough. She wanted to be numb again—to be hopeless and free.
He gathered her up in his arms, and she beat her fists against his chest. He didn’t even have the decency to voice a protest. No, he sat them on his bed and let her hit him.
“You bastard!”
“I love you,” he said, petting her hair.
“M-monster!”
“I love you.” He kissed her head.
She gripped the fabric of his tunic, wishing she could tear it apart as she wished she could tear into him the way his words tore her up inside. How dare he say those words after everything he’d done. How dare he push past her defences. How dare he pretend to be gentle when she felt so wretched.
“I’ll never f-forgive you.” She wept, hiding her face in his tunic.
“And I will still love you,” he whispered.
Aurora let the tears rip through her until there was nothing left save a headache and an exhausted hollowness.
She felt cold and drained, as if she’d blasted through the whole of her magic.
Theron left her only long enough to return with a bowl of cool water, soap, and a soft towel.
He wiped away whatever cosmetics hadn’t found their way onto his tunic.
“Stay the night?” he asked.
The prospect of trudging down the hall to her own bed looking and feeling like a wreck was too much to bear. She nodded.
Theron helped her out of her clothes, leaving nothing but a slip.
He tucked her into his bed, pulling off his tunic and sliding in beside her.
She shivered. Almost hesitantly, Theron pulled her close.
With his warmth at her back and his arm around her waist, she drifted off, her heart an open wound.
She woke to a headache and eyes that felt hot and swollen. Aurora groaned. Theron tightened his hold on her.
“Do you want me to fix it?”
“Mmm.”
His magic settled on her, easing not just her headache but every ache and pain she’d gathered over the course of their travels. She sighed, grateful.
“I’ll see you soon,” he kissed the top of her head and slipped out of the bed.
Only then did she see he was already fully dressed.
“What?”
His smile was tight as he knelt by the bed.
“Today, I prove to you I can be who you need.”
Theron took her hand and kissed the knuckles, his gaze drinking her in.
“I love you.”
Aurora bit her lip, looking away. She wasn’t ready for this kind of onslaught so early in the day. But he didn’t press her to return his words. He stood and left without another word as Aurora lay in bed, wrestling with her own heart.
How was he going to prove himself? What could he possibly do that would earn her trust?
Her forgiveness? As if she could be won over in a single day.
Grumpy to have woken too early, yet curious about what Theron had planned, Aurora gave up the pretense of sleeping.
Attendants rushed to her side to ready her.
Today’s attire was far more formal, far more regal, than anything she’d previously worn.
Aurean sea silk draped from her form, golden yellow and shimmering.
It was a material only hinted at in ancient texts.
And when it came time to select hair ornaments, an ornate radiate crown decorated in little gemstone stars winked up at her.
Her heart stuttered. What was the meaning of this?
Was this because she’d sat in the queen’s throne yesterday?
Aurora swallowed nervously as the attendants secured the heavy crown atop her head.
She didn’t recognize the person staring at her from the other side of the mirror.
The woman who stared back wasn’t Knowledge’s initiate, a princess’ friend, a historian, Fate’s chosen on a divine mission, nor even a princess of Viridis.
The woman whose green eyes matched hers was a queen, her eyes lined in kohl, her dress finer than even an empress’, her jewellery acting as splendid armour sparkling in the dawn’s rays.
Aurora gasped as a sense of unreality overtook her. Though she could see her attendant’s lips moving, the only sound she could hear was that of a heartbeat—and it wasn’t hers. As loud as thunder, every beat reverberated in her very bones. But just as quickly as the spell had come on, it faded.
“Your Highness? Are you in pain?”
Another hallucination. Aurora caught her breath, releasing her hold on the arms of her chair. Not again. Not now.
“No, no, I’m fine. Just…the crown is a little heavy,” Aurora lied.
She was far from fine. Twice in two days now. If her decline was going to be this swift, then Theron would surely notice it soon. At least she knew the strange hallucination wasn’t real. But how long until she lost even that awareness?
“You bear it well, Your Highness.”
Aurora stood and the attendants brushed out her skirts and added the final touches to her attire. Soon, court would begin. As she made her way to the throne room, she overheard Polydorus, his tone as pleading as it was heated. She stopped, hoping to eavesdrop.
“Please, don’t do this!”
“It must be done,” Theron replied.
“If you do this, you will undo all you’ve accomplished. A king, once brought low before his subjects, is forever a laughingstock. You will never again have the respect you now command!”
“I’m aware.”
“Then why? If you weaken your position now, just as you’ve lost Lady Ino’s faction, the results will be disastrous!”
“Because my fated needs to know I am capable of putting her needs before politics even if it leaves me at a disadvantage.”
Aurora barely stifled her gasp.
“You’re throwing away decades of effort—potentially your crown—for a woman!”
And then had to stop herself from growling.
“I have acted in accordance with how I was raised, to be a good king and to set aside my heart. Had I been wise enough to put Aurora and my heart first, then the troubles Aureum now faces would not plague us. Now is the time for change. It is past time I become a good husband, Polydorus. I ask that you respect my choice in this matter.”
Her heart warmed once more, even as dread nipped at her heels.
“And if she doesn’t see it that way?”
“Then I expect you to serve her as faithfully as you have served me. She will have questions. I expect you to answer them.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Polydorus replied reluctantly.
“Have faith, cup bearer,” Theron said before he departed.
What mad scheme was Theron up to now? Clearly his advisors were against it, and given Polydorus’ predictions, the results could be drastic. Aurora stepped out from around the corner. Polydorus met her gaze, his fear piercing her.
“Your Highness,” he said, bowing.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“If you would follow me? I will explain on the way.”
She followed him into the throne room. But only one throne sat on the dais—the king’s.
“Explain. Now.”
“Please don’t ask this of me,” Theron’s aunt begged him.
“You have already agreed to it, Aunty.”
“I thought you would change your mind, my little lion,” Myrina whispered, her face ashen.
Theron shook his head.
There had been a time to prove to his little fairy that she could trust him, but at every crossroads he’d chosen poorly. Cowardice, arrogance, condescension—he was guilty of them all. It was fitting then, for the slimmest chance he could regain her trust, he would have to face his worst fears.