CHAPTER 27
By the time I wake up in my chamber, I’m too exhausted to move.
I remember Thorin calling my name more than once.
I know he did because I remember his voice, low and steady as always, but not a single word reaches me.
They dissolve before they ever settle into meaning, leaving me to drift through a vast, empty silence, as though I’ve become a stranger inside my own body.
The room grows darker around me as afternoon slips into evening, though I hardly notice.
Time passes while I remain curled on the bed, replaying every memory my mind chooses to return to.
A tray of food appears outside my door at some point.
I stare at it until the steam disappears, then look away without touching it.
Someone knocks once, waits, then knocks again. I never answer.
Eventually, the palace settles into silence. The fire burns lower, casting long shadows across the room until only the glow of the embers remains. I pull my knees against my chest, trying to make sense of a life that has unraveled in the span of a single afternoon.
I hated Thorin.
I hated him with every certainty I possessed.
I cry for every accusation I ever threw at him. Every cruel word. Every time I looked into those storm-gray eyes and saw nothing but the monster Mara taught me to fear. Now all I can see is the look on his face as my memories return.
He didn’t look relieved.
He didn't look vindicated.
He looked heartbroken. As though my pain had somehow become his own.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but the image refuses to leave me.
Nothing makes sense anymore. Not Mara. Not the rebellion she spent years telling me about.
She used to whisper that one day the rebellion would overthrow the Shadow King.
That one day his reign would end and Solaris would finally know peace.
She told me he was cruel. Corrupt. A tyrant who ruled through fear.
Those are the stories I grew up believing.
But they aren’t the man I met. They aren’t the king who carries the weight of an entire continent on his shoulders. They aren’t the man who seemed almost as wounded by my memories as I was.
If he isn't the monster Mara raised me to hate…
Why did watching him hurt feel like another wound?