27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I n the library, Viridian retrieves a piece of parchment, a quill, and ink.
“Sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the tables.
I do, and he pulls out the chair next to mine. Now that he’s seated, he dips the quill in ink and hovers it over the parchment.
I open my mouth to speak but close it not even a moment later. Where do I begin? So much has happened since I left home. So much has changed.
I’ve changed.
“Speak to me,” he says, looking my way, “as if you were speaking to your father.”
I glance up in thought. “Hello, Father. It’s me, Cryssa.”
Viridian touches the quill to the parchment. It makes scratching sounds as he drags it across, using it to draw round, swooping shapes. When he’s finished, he looks up at me.
I continue. “I have thought of you and Acantha every day, and I know you must be worried about me. I’m all right. I miss you both so, so much.” I pause, briefly closing my eyes. “I hope you are well.”
I wait for Viridian to write it down, and then go on. “I’ve heard more miners have fallen ill. Father, I pray that you are not one of them. How are things at home? Are Catia and Jemetha well? I love you. From, Cryssa.”
Viridian copies my words down onto the parchment. Once he’s done, his brows stitch together and he returns the quill to the ink.
“Who are Catia and Jemetha?” he asks.
I hesitate. “Loren’s mother and sister.”
“Ah,” he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I see.”
We’re both silent for a moment.
“Father can only read a little,” I say, anxious to change the subject. “How will he know what I’ve said?”
“I’ll instruct the messenger delivering it to read it aloud to him,” he answers, sounding as if he were worlds away.
I nod. But the silence returns. No matter how much I wish it wouldn’t.
“You miss it, don’t you.” Viridian says quietly, staring down at the table. It’s a statement. Not a question. “Home.”
“Yes,” I murmur, looking away from him. Dread lines my stomach. I know where this is going.
“Have you thought about returning?”
“Yes.” I admit. It feels pointless to deny it. “I’ve thought about it.”
He goes quiet, chewing on his bottom lip.
“And you—” he stops, as if he doesn’t want to say what comes next. But he does anyway. “You miss being with him.”
I instantly know he’s referring to Loren.
This again?
“Viridian, please.” How many times will we go over this?
“It’s all right, Cryssa.” He sounds defeated. “I can handle the truth. You don’t need to spare me.”
I press my lips together.
I do miss Loren. But not like that. Not the way he thinks.
So, why don’t I tell him that? It’s as if there’s some part of me that’s still holding on, that’s still afraid to jump into the unknown.
“Your silence is answer enough.” Viridian stands. “I won’t get in the way of your happiness.”
“Viridian,” I protest.
But he’s not listening. His back is to me, and he’s walking to the door.
“I’ll have your message delivered.” Then he steps into the hall. And moves farther away from me.
I stand, my chair scraping across the floor when I do. When I reach the hallway, Lymseia places a hand on my shoulder.
“Give him time,” she tells me.
“But—”
“It’s not your fault, but he’s hurting.” She sighs.
“I know he is.” And it tears me apart inside.
She gives my shoulder a light squeeze. “There’s nothing you can do but let him work through it on his own. He’s too stuck in his own head to see anything but what he’s convinced himself to be true.”
The rational part of my mind knows she’s right. Still, I yearn to hold him. To make his hurt disappear.
But I nod. Though my eyes stay fixed in the place where I last saw Viridian.
I debate whether or not to see Viridian for hours. Trying to give him time, as Lymseia said, I fill my afternoon with mindless activities. Walking the grounds. Visiting Nightfoot in the stables. Drawing.
But nothing is able to pull my mind from how he looked at me in the library.
Not anger. Not denial. Gods above, not even sadness.
Pure and utter defeat.
Hopelessness.
And I realize I can’t wait any longer. I have to see him .
I march through the halls. I go to the first-floor library, the grounds, and then the kitchens, to see if he’s there.
Lastly, I climb the main staircase and turn the corner, not stopping until I’ve reached his bedchamber. It would be my luck that I’ve been searching all over the castle, when he’s been right next to me the entire time.
When I reach the door, I raise my fist to knock. But I pause.
There are voices coming from behind the door.
And I know it’s wrong, but I can’t seem to stop myself from pressing my ear to it. From slowing my breathing.
“I have to break off the engagement.” The voice is a low rumble. Viridian’s. “Before my father forces my hand.”
“Enough of this nonsense, cousin,” another says with a sigh. Myrdin. He sounds tired. How long have they been discussing this? “You want to marry her, do you not?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. More than you know.” Viridian hesitates. “But the gods were wrong. We are not fated.”
“What do you mean? How could you possibly—”
“She is in love with someone else!” Viridian says harshly. I shudder, and it’s not even directed at me.
No , I want to shout. I want to barge in and tell him that he’s wrong, that I’m not in love with anyone else. Not anymore. But I find myself frozen, my feet fixed to the floor.
“Who is he?” Myrdin asks quietly. There’s a knowing edge to his voice.
“The prisoner. ”
“The one—”
“Yes.”
There’s silence for a moment. And then Myrdin breaks it. “I see.”
Someone releases a long exhale.
“I want to hurt him.” Viridian’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I want to beat him until my jealousy has had its fill of violence.”
“Viridian,” Myrdin warns.
“But I won’t. Because she cares for him. And I—” Viridian stops abruptly. “I care about her. More than I know I should.”
“There is nothing wrong with caring for your betrothed, cousin.”
“Oh, but I care for her too much, you see. I would worship her, if she’d allow it. I would fall to my knees at her feet and if she commanded that I burn the whole realm to the ground for her, I would. And then I would follow her into hell, gladly.”
A heavy silence follows.
“You know what this means,” Myrdin says at last. “Have you told her?”
“No. Only once, when she was too drunk to remember.” A pause. “How can I?”
“You must tell her, Viridian. She has a right to know.”
“She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want me .” The last phrase is so full of anguish that I lean forward, holding my hand over my heart.
I stagger away from the door.
He thinks I don’t want him.
He still thinks I want to leave.
After how much we’ve grown, after how close we were, he still sees me the way he did before. As the untrusting human, who could never love him. Who could never rule proudly at his side.
Stepping farther back, I turn and start down the hallway.
I need to get away. To go somewhere else. Anywhere but here.
My bedchamber is too close. Especially knowing that he’s on the other side. And with his fae hearing, he’ll know I’m there, too.
My feet carry me downstairs and through the double doors that lead to the stables. I don’t stop, continuing until I reach the grounds. When I’m finally out in the open, I pick up my skirts and break into a run.
Viridian’s words replay in my mind. Over, and over, and over.
“She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want me.”
Oh, but I do. I do want him. Too much.
But part of me is still afraid and wants to return to my old life. The one that had Loren.
It’s as if they both represent one image of what could be. Loren, my common life in the Gold Court. The one without adventure.
And Viridian…
A life that’s entirely new.
I push myself faster, my thighs burning.
Frustration courses through me, powering my legs. Why can’t I tell Viridian how I feel? Why can’t I answer any of his questions? If I could, it would free us both from this torment.
But if I did, what would I say? Would I tell him the truth, that I care for them both? That somehow, my heart belongs to both him and to Loren, at the same time?
No.
That wouldn’t do any good. He wouldn’t believe me. He’d think I was sparing his feelings. That it was merely a gross exaggeration to make some fragile peace between us.
I pause when I reach the tree line. But then I advance, even though my skirts get caught on the brambles.
I don’t care. I need to move.
To think.
Viridian and I will be wed, regardless. There’s nothing I can do to change that.
I’m not as resistant to it as I once was. Now, I can see a life with Viridian. A good life.
But I can also see a life with Loren, should both of us ever make it out of here. A quiet life. The life I’d always imagined for myself. But not the life that would set my soul free .
With Loren, I’d never leave Slyfell. I’d only ever see my little corner of the world. I’d only have control over my immediate circumstances, with no real power to effect change.
But with Viridian…
I’d see the world. Probably visit each of the five Courts. With Viridian, I would have a chance to do something that matters. I would have a chance to better the lives of countless humans, all over the kingdom. Despite my mortality shackling me, I’d feel so alive .
And I would do it with a male that I respect. A male that I enjoy talking to. A male whose companionship is enough to put a smile on my face.
A male that I can be myself with. My true self. Without having to put on a show.
Someone I can just exist with.
Before Viridian, I didn’t know that was even possible.
Now, I can’t imagine life without it.
How far am I willing to go to keep him?
I come to a stop.
How far am I willing to go to keep him? How much am I willing to sacrifice?
The truth is, even I can’t answer that question.
I have no idea how far I would go. How much I would give.
Death’s words fill the corners of my mind.
“When the time comes, you must choose. Choose life, without love, in a cursed land. Or choose death in the name of love, and sacred sacrifice.”
Chills trickle down my spine.
I have a sickening feeling that I won’t have long before I have to make that choice.
Before I realize just how far I would go for love.