Chapter 48
Elva
The floor of Hal’s chambers is strewn with an assortment of open books and rolls of parchment.
He’s pacing back and forth through the middle of them, clutching a dog-eared scroll, his dark brows pulled together in concentration.
Several orbs of golden light drift after him, floating lazily above his head and illuminating his face.
His fair skin is moonflower-pale, his under-eyes still blotched with bruise-like shadows.
My gaze lands on the empty vials of opium littering the large writing desk.
I’m glad it seems to be allowing him to function, but the drug is not curing his pain – only dulling it – and growing reliant on such substances would be unwise.
I pick my way through the sea of papers. Hal’s head snaps up as I approach and a distracted smile softens his sharp focus. My heart squeezes tight as I imagine that smile sliding from his face when he hears what I came here to say.
I begin to make a list in my head – a List of Lasts.
The last time he’ll ever look at me like that.
The last time he’ll pull me close.
The last time he’ll kiss me.
His lips are soft and taste of lemons, and I linger longer than I should, savouring him. He draws back first but keeps his fingers twined with mine.
I take a deep breath and jerk my chin towards the floor. ‘Is there any particular reason you decided to ransack the library?’
Hal’s expression turns intent once more. ‘You remember the Eyes you overheard discussing my uncle’s plot to steal those prisoners? Well, after Marina got a tad … creative with her persuasion, one of them finally cracked. A single word – that’s all he let slip.’
‘Which was?’
The orbs above our heads drift closer, as though listening in.
‘Demari,’ Hal says.
‘Demari?’ I repeat, unfamiliar with the word – in Ostacrian, at least. ‘What’s that?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ He taps the scroll against his leg, then lets it fall into the pile at his feet. ‘I’ll call a meeting in the observatory tomorrow. Maybe I’ll give some of these books to Elaith to sift through. It might help distract her.’
‘From what?’ I ask, stricken.
Does Hal know about Cole? About what he’s doing to her?
‘I had word this morning,’ Hal says. ‘It turns out Blaze isn’t in that safe house, and neither is Flint. Their grandmother was using decoys, if you can believe it.’
‘Decoys?’
‘To cover up the fact the twins are missing. It seems they disappeared shortly after the attack on Fire Mountain.’
Unease coils in my stomach. ‘But why?’
‘Search me. Anyway, one of the stable boys sold the information to the highest bidder. I imagine half of Ostacre knows by now, including my uncle.’
I swallow. I only hope Blaze knows what she’s doing.
Hal’s raven eyes meet mine, and whatever he sees there causes him to ask the question I’ve been dreading. ‘What is it?’
My mouth turns very dry.
He reaches out to touch my cheek. I add this to the List of Lasts.
‘We need to talk,’ I mumble.
‘Is this about your sister?’ Hal guesses. ‘I’m sorry I don’t have more to tell you yet. You know I have to be incredibly careful about the Eyes I assign to find her.’
‘Yes, I know. That’s not –’
‘I never thanked you properly for what you managed to uncover at Ember’s banquet,’ he continues. ‘It’s because of you that we now know what my uncle was looking for. And once I figure out exactly what these Demari are, then we’ll know why, too.’
‘Hal.’ Barely a whisper.
‘I knew you’d make an excellent spy. It’s a pity there haven’t been more feasts or balls since the … incident, but with any luck there’ll be some intel to gather in a few days. Honestly, the people love an execution almost as much as they love a wedding.’
I go rigid.
‘Alator said they’re anticipating a large turnout,’ Hal goes on, oblivious. ‘I thought it a little unsavoury, but he assured me that a public spectacle is the most effective way to make an example out of the girl.’
Slowly, I untangle my fingers from his.
Hal lets me go at once. ‘Has something happened? Are you all right?’
I answer his questions internally – yes, and no.
‘Elva?’ His tone is anxious.
The words emerge in a strangled gasp. ‘I came to ask you to spare Ingra’s life.’
Hal’s expression shifts, just as I knew it would. His mouth clamps shut, his jaw locks, and his eyes – slightly glazed, whether from confusion or opium or both – blink twice, then narrow, tightening at the corners.
When he speaks, his voice is low, almost inaudible. ‘What?’
‘I’m asking you … to spare her.’
‘You know I can’t do that.’
‘You can do anything,’ I insist. ‘You’re the emperor.’
‘Which is precisely why I can’t do what you’re asking. What sort of message would that send – to my enemies, to my allies, to the entire realm?’
‘That you’re merciful.’
‘No, that I’m weak,’ Hal corrects. ‘Not to mention delusional and spineless. An assassination attempt by a serf? It’s made me into a laughing stock.’ He sighs. ‘Look, I take no pleasure in it. But what she tried to do – that’s not something I can just let slide.’
‘So don’t,’ I say quickly. ‘Don’t pardon her. Say that her execution took place privately to avoid turning her into a martyr. Say that you killed her yourself, if you must. Then we can smuggle her out.’
There’s a pause, and for a moment I almost manage to convince myself that he’s considering my proposal. Then he takes a step back. ‘No.’
‘Hal –’
‘Elva, listen. I can’t … I won’t pardon the person who plotted to kill me. I won’t do it.’
‘You said you wanted things to change. That you wanted to be better.’
‘I did, and I do.’
‘Then prove it.’ I take a step towards him. ‘I know you intend to free the serfs. What’s one more?’
Hal scrubs a hand over his eyes.
‘Please,’ I urge. ‘She’s my friend.’
A muscle pulses in his neck. ‘I understand, and I’m sorry. I am. But, Elva, she committed treason.’
‘No, she didn’t.’
I barely register the words until they are out of my mouth, suspended in the space between us. Hal stares at me and I feel my face flood with colour.
Don’t be a coward, I tell myself.
I clear my throat and stand my ground. ‘It’s only treason if you’re betraying your own country, your own sovereign. Ingra is Veridian. You may be a ruler, but you are not hers.’
Hal looks as if I’ve just reached out and slapped him.
For two years there have been certain subjects we’ve tried to avoid, thinking that never talking about what makes us different – what separates us – would mean we could go on pretending.
I was a serf and he was the Crown Prince, but sometimes I could convince myself that it didn’t matter.
That he was nothing like his family and that I was more than what had happened to me.
Because when we’re together, the rest of the world seems to fade into the periphery like a bad dream. But it’s time to wake up now.
‘Do you remember how we met?’ I ask. ‘You saw me cover for a boy who spilled wine on your cousin. Well, that boy’s name is Pip. He’s twelve years old, and he’s currently locked in a damp, dark hole called the Pit, all because he asked to take Ingra some food.’
Hal’s eyes shutter in horror. ‘Have you … ever been …’
‘Thrown in the Pit?’ I finish. ‘Yes. For the crime of speaking in my native tongue.’
He swallows, pained. I’d never really thought about it before – how we fell in love in his language.
‘I was forced to learn Ostacrian,’ I continue. ‘Like the rest of the serfs.’ My heart pounds. ‘Don’t you see? You own them, Hal. Just as your father owned me. They are your property, not your subjects. Is it really any wonder Ingra wanted you dead?’
The silence is heavy, almost suffocating. It squeezes the air from my lungs.
‘You say you won’t spare her, but I won’t let her die,’ I whisper. ‘Not when I’m the reason she’s in that cell in the first place.’
Hal frowns. ‘What’re you talking about?’
I inhale jaggedly. ‘If anyone committed treason, it’s me. Because I betrayed my friends – my people – to save your life.’
Confusion twists his features. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I stopped Ingra.’
‘But … How?’ Hal frowns, trying to make sense of this. ‘What about Cole?’
Irritation claws at my insides. ‘You really think that arrogant brute was sober enough to notice an assassin all the way up in the gallery, or powerful enough to extinguish every flame in the room? He’s not the reason that ballroom went dark, Hal. It … it was me.’
‘What do you mean, it was you?’
I look away. Panic descends, hot and sharp, and I’m overcome with the desire to backtrack, to make an excuse, to turn and run and hide.
I hear my mother’s voice in my head.
Don’t shut fear out, Elva. Invite it in.
I feel my shadows begin to coil beneath the surface, ready to spring.
Ingra said that Hal would kill me if he discovered the truth about my magic. There’s only one way to test that theory. Because how can I continue to give my heart to somebody who might ever wish it to stop beating? How can I expect Hal to love me – truly love me – when he cannot fully know me?
The shadow emerges slowly, a ribbon of ink-black smoke twining lovingly round my wrist. Hal staggers backwards, his mouth dropping open just as another shadow materializes and hovers protectively in front of me, curling itself into different shapes.
‘I … I don’t understand,’ he breathes.
A third shadow is unleashed, spiralling upward to dance among the glowing golden orbs above our heads.
I meet Hal’s gaze, take a deep, trembling breath – and tell him the truth.