Chapter 48 #2
Aimilia took a deep breath. His grief was palpable in the air. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
“The person who gave you that ring… a facade.”
If only she’d known then every word out of his mouth that night had been a lie.
Aimilia jerked awake, gasping as she reached forward clutching her chest at the memory of that fateful night Nikias pulled her into his spell, manipulating her so she danced to his tune all so he could get Marcella to pay for Hypatia’s crimes.
Hypatia’s warning settled over Aimilia’s shoulders.
Aimilia stumbled out of bed as it warred with the memory she had of the night before, being in Nikias’ arms.
She pressed a hand to her stomach.
What was she doing?
She stared down at the gold ring, mocking her.
Had she lost her mind?
This was Nikias.
“Stay away from him. Stay as far away from him as you can.”
“I will.”
Nikias had turned her into a liar. What a traitor she was.
The next time she saw Gavril and Marcella, how was she going to be able to look them in the eyes?
Even if she never told them, she would still know.
Letting Nikias kiss her, almost kissing him, clinging to him…
The man who was the reason they would never have a family of their own.
Her grandfather was barely cold and she’d spent most of her time thinking about a man who had already deceived her and manipulated her into doing exactly what he wanted once before.
Beautiful, perfect Faustina. She’d been the only thing about Nikias Aimilia had approved of.
Nikias belonged to her. He would always belong to her even in death.
If Faustina were in front of her, how could she look her in the eye now that she knew what it felt like to have Nikias’ lips on hers and his hands clutching her to him the way he once had Faustina?
Aimilia looked up in the mirror. The bags under her eyes were deep as she fought the bile threatening to come up her throat. He’d lied to her. He’d used her. He’d arrested her and had her suspended for daring to defy him.
She’d wanted time to think; she had it now.
Aimilia could not deny she felt something for Nikias, and of all the terrible things she’d ever done, this was the worst.
If she loved Nikias…
If.
If she loved him, it was the worst betrayal she had ever committed, to Gavril and Marcella, her grandfather, Faustina, and to herself.
Hypatia’s words stayed with Aimilia like a pebble in her sandal.
Hypatia hadn’t outright said it was Nikias manipulating her and setting up a trap, but he’d done so before. Had he really changed?
Or was she the fool falling for his lies again?
Who was Nikias?
Was he the man he asserted he was, or was he just as skilled a manipulator as he’d always been? Was he manipulating her again? Had he been playing her all this time, tricking her into falling for this facade he put on until she landed in his trap and had no chance of escaping?
Was he lying about switching his and his mother’s papers to earn points with her to make himself look noble? It would be easy. She’d never know if he did or didn’t. He could easily rig the competition so she’d lose, and if she did, she would have no choice but to marry him.
Or, if he rigged it in her favor, ensuring she won, but making her believe it was because he’d been making noble sacrifices for her to win her affection, he’d still win if she bought it and chose to marry him and gave up the title.
He claimed he wanted her to want to marry him. What better way than to manipulate her into falling for him?
The way he’d looked at her that night he’d pulled her into his web…
It was the way he looked at her now. The things he’d said…
He knew her better than she could have ever imagined.
He knew all her insecurities and how to take advantage of them.
Nikias had known exactly what to say to her to bend her to his will.
He’d done it before. He could be doing it again.
But…
Aimilia spun the ring over and over her finger.
What if he wasn’t?
What if Hypatia’s premonition by some miracle was referring to something else? What if Nikias had changed? What if it wasn’t a facade?
What if this was real?
It was still a betrayal of so many she loved. But…
If this was real, then Nikias might be one of them.
If she loved him, how could she not choose him?
But loving him didn’t erase the treason she’d committed. What would Nikias do if he ever discovered it? Could she love him and still take that to her grave?
Aimilia sat on the edge of her bed, burying her head in her hands. It took all her willpower not to be sick.
She didn’t know how she could have let this happen, but it was too late. She couldn’t change it. She couldn’t claw the warm affection that had snuck up on her over the past few months out of her heart. Nikias had found a place in it despite all logic and reason and even in spite of himself.
Aimilia took a deep breath.
There was only one path forward.
Aimilia had to become the next Head of House Mitis. It was the only way she would ensure she had the freedom to refuse Nikias as well as give her enough time to discover if this was just another grand scheme executed to perfection by the cunning man.
She could not afford to lose.
But… if Nikias was orchestrating this trap, it might not be up to her.
Aimilia had no choice but to fight.
If she succeeded and discovered Nikias actually… It was unfathomable to her, the idea that Nikias could ever love a woman who wasn’t Faustina, especially her, but she had no other word for it.
If she succeeded and discovered Nikias truly loved her, could she give up being Head of House Mitis to marry him? Would it be enough to cover her treason if she confessed it?
Could she live with being his second wife? Would she still be second best to Faustina if she did?
If he could love her, could he ever love her as much as he loved Faustina?
Could she love him even half as much as Faustina had loved him?
She couldn’t trust herself around Nikias right now. So when Nikias came by later that morning, Aimilia kept her hand on the door and politely thanked him for ensuring she made it back to her room and explained that she had a lot to do to prepare for the tournament.
Nikias’ expression had fallen, but he hadn’t pushed and had left her to her solitude, especially since he also had much to do to prepare for it as well.
In the days following she hardly saw Nikias at all in the whirlwind of her preparations.
Every time they crossed paths, he gave her that look, the one she couldn’t name.
The same one he’d been giving her last year.
She did her best each time to come up with a plausible excuse, and often she got lucky in someone else demanding Nikias’ attention, one of the other commanders in charge of organizing the upcoming trials.
Aimilia spent that week going over her notes on her competition. She’d tried to numb herself to her grief and turmoil so she could focus only on her competition as they’d been casting and carrying the casket, but it had only worked so much.
There were seven total commanders that would be competing, including Aimilia.
All of them a distant cousin in some way, but if Aimilia broke out the family trees, the actual blood relation was slight.
Cyprian was one of them. They shared a great-great-great-great-grandfather, but she had classmates from other houses at the Academy she shared more blood with.
When Aimilia wasn’t turning over every interaction she’d ever had with Nikias, Hypatia’s warning hovering over her like a second skin, she went over all the information she had on her cousins, but Cyprian was the only one that mattered.
Not that she was underestimating the others.
They’d all earned their position as commanders, but they’d all graduated toward the bottom of their respective classes, and their record ever since didn’t show any improvement.
Not that it would be easy, but Aimilia was confident in her abilities she could take them.
Cyprian…
That was a question she was going to find out the answer to very soon.