Chapter 16 #2
“Since when do you follow me at all?” Father’s scowl deepens. “Your entire life, you’ve been angry and needlessly rebellious. You make life harder than it needs to be, then blame others for your misfortunes.”
“Like Grandmother’s murder?” It’s a challenge, and the look on his face tells me he knows it. He doesn’t respond.
It feels slightly absurd to stand in this moldering dungeon arguing about murder and deceit while wearing my frilly nightgown and velvety-pink robe. I should be clad in armor if I’m the only person brave enough to defy this beast.
“It’s time you stop living in the past and start facing your responsibilities.” He clenches his fist on the desk. “This kingdom does not protect itself. It needs a strong ruler to save it from the Dead Queen. And here you are, sneaking around with her spies.”
“That’s not what happened.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, like he has a headache. “Do you know what the corpse queen wants? She intends to overthrow the Fox Throne. To bring horror and chaos to Llwyn. Doesn’t that matter to you at all?”
I set my jaw, refusing to take the bait.
He looks at the guards near the door. “Get out.”
I feel the steadying presence of Hunter behind me, unmoving. It’s a brave thing to stay behind in the face of an angry king. An immense wave of gratitude washes over me.
The guards leave and close the heavy door behind them. They look like copper insects skittering away from a hungry lizard.
Father breaks the following silence. “Let me ask you a question.” He tinkers with the inkwell on his desk, thoughtfully. “What use would healing powers be if there were no fools on the verge of death? If there were no wounded soldiers on battlefields?”
The questions are rhetorical. He lowers his eyes at me. “This war is how we keep our family on the throne.”
“You mean, this is how you stay on the throne?”
“For. My. Heir.” He glares at me. “Or, it would have been, if you hadn’t been such an infuriating, embarrassing failure.”
There is an implied threat in his words. For the first time, I wonder if maybe he’d intended for me to die yesterday. If he wanted to bait the Wolf and make a scene, to kill me and blame it on the prisoner. My hand instinctively reaches up to my throat to feel the tender scar there.
“You think I only exist to gratify you,” I say, incredulous. “To make you look good. To keep your seat on the throne.”
Father shrugs. “It’s all a matter of your point of view.”
“Murdering people and stealing land for personal gain isn’t what a good ruler does.”
“Good?” He raises an eyebrow. “Define ‘good’. Our people are fed. They have homes and clothes on their backs.”
“All won through theft and lies.”
Hunter reaches forward to put a hand on my elbow. “Sienna, maybe—”
Father steps closer to me. “Do you honestly think the comfortable housewife cares where her food comes from, as long as her brats are fed? Do you think the silversmith cares what his weapons are used for, as long as the work keeps coming?”
I stare at him in horror.
Father leans in close to me. “No, they don’t.” He scowls. “A good ruler takes care of his own people. That’s what I do. I will damn Annwyn if it means Llwyn thrives. A good father does what he must to protect his family.”
The word “family” rings in my ears. It is hollow and meaningless coming from his lips. How has he protected me? I’m his only true family and I’ve never felt safe a day in my life. Especially not from him.
All this time, we were the monsters—The Fox Throne and Llwyn.
We were the ones stealing land, killing families, causing pain and misery. All to keep my monstrous family in a golden palace.
And I helped him.
In my determination to run away, become a better person than my father, to help my people, heal them, save them … I was helping him.
“I can’t do this.” The whisper comes out of me before I’ve had a chance to really think it through.
In my peripheral, I see Hunter look at me in alarm.
“Can’t do what?” he asks. But I think he already knows.
My father lowers his eyes at me and the shadows of this dark room dance around the creases in his face.
“Any of it.” I shake my head and turn to Hunter. “I am so sorry, Hunter. But I can’t marry you.”
Hunter’s face pales. He stands frozen, like he’s trying to register my words, but he doesn’t understand them.
Maybe in another life, this could work. If my father wasn’t trying to force me to marry him, if I wasn’t stuck with this royal burden, if Grandmother hadn’t been killed …
If. If. If. A marriage won’t work under that kind of pressure.
As much as I wish it weren’t so, I need to end this. For both of us.
I reach out to put a hand on his arm. “I am so, so sorry.”
Little by little, his face melts into a pool of sorrow. His brown eyes glisten. “Please, we can talk about this. Don’t let that Wolf ruin everything we have.”
I shake my head. “This isn’t about the Wolf.” I turn to look at Father and force myself to stand taller. “It’s about him.”
Father smiles patronizingly. “And what will you do with the rest of your life, if you refuse to be an obedient wife and heir?”
“I’ll return to the borderlands.” Even though I say it out loud, I know it isn’t true. I’d rather become a hermit in the forest than help Father unwittingly again.
Father’s laugh is hollow. “And you believe I’d permit a rebellious heir to just waltz about the kingdom, living life as she pleases?” his voice grows low, threatening. “That is not how kingdoms work.”
I glare at him, trying to untangle the veiled threats in his words.
“An unruly heir is a danger to us all,” he says. “An heir must obey the king, or else she serves no purpose. Or else she threatens the security of an entire nation.”
“I don’t want the throne.” I lift my chin. “Find a new heir. I’ve heard whispers that you already have.”
Both Father and Hunter stiffen. Did he really think he was hiding his pregnant mistress from anyone? A pretty, young, unmarried woman walking around the palace with a distended belly, all decorated in the royal colors? So much for a master strategist.
“Your mere existence is a threat!” Spittle flies from Father’s mouth as he speaks. Silence echoes in the tiny, secret room. After a moment, he holds up his arms to gesture to the dripping stones around us. “Take a look around, Little Fox. This could be your future instead of a soft marriage bed.”
My blood goes cold. “You would lock me in a forgotten dungeon for disobeying you?”
His smile is malicious. “I’ve done worse to protect this kingdom.”
Grandmother.
My fists clench the silk of my nightdress to keep from grabbing the silver moth hidden beneath it.
Suddenly, I understand something I should have a long time ago.
The enemy isn’t Annwyn. It isn’t even Llwyn.
It’s my father. And something deep inside of me tells me he’s the one to blame for Grandmother’s death. I just need to find out how. And why.
“Leave me,” Father’s whisper is as loud as a shout. “And pray that you come to your senses.”
Hunter and I walk out of the damp chamber, slamming the door behind us. We follow the guards back down the narrow corridors, stepping over crumbled wall stones and puddles. Our footsteps echo ominously through the dark.
Finally, when we’ve climbed back up the spiral stairs and the passageways look familiar again, I speak.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to Hunter. “I wish I knew a better way.”
Hunter just nods, refusing to look at me.
“It’s just …” My voice shakes with emotion. “I can’t be bound to that monster for my entire life. If I marry you, I will be.”
After a long pause, he says, “You’re wrong.”
I stop walking and turn to him. The guards halt a few paces away when they notice we’re not following.
“Please,” I beg. “Tell me how I’m wrong about this. If I marry you, I’m just another one of his puppets. He gets to tidy me away, like a forgotten wedding present. Out of sight. Beholden to another man. Another man, who is equally beholden to him.”
Hunter swallows, looking away. “I never wanted to become one of his puppets, you know.”
I shift to meet his eyes. “I know that, Hunter. We were going to make our own paths. Our own lives away from this awful place.” I sniff. “I don’t understand what changed.”
Hunter scoffs. “What changed is you left, Sienna.”
He could have slapped me and it would’ve hurt less. I try to stop the tears of shame from spilling over my eyelids.
“What changed is I was alone. With them! What else was I supposed to do? Be the rebellious son forever?” He scoffs, shaking his head.
“I don’t have the protections you do as heir.
I don’t have the privilege to run away and survive on my title or my naturally born talents.
” He looks me straight in the eyes with a seriousness I’ve never seen in him before.
“You and I are not the same. We are not on equal footing. We played and pretended when we were young, but it was all a lie. A fantasy, Sienna.”
It hurts, but it’s true.
His voice is raw with emotion. “And you have the audacity to blame me for it.”
“No, I don’t blame you, it’s just—”
“No,” he closes his eyes. “You do. All my life, I’ve tried to make you proud. Except for that one stupid mistake that made you run away. I’ve told you that I will spend forever trying to make it up to you. But still, I am not enough.”
I’m ashamed because he’s right. I do blame him. And I know how awful that makes me sound. How unforgiving and intolerant. Like my father.
“I chose the pink one, by the way,” Hunter says.
I shake my head, confused. “What?”
“The cake.” He clears his throat. “It’s the one that made you smile the most. So …” his voice trails off.
A sob threatens to cut off my voice. “What a waste of a good cake.”
He nods. “What a waste of a good life.”
My vision blurs from the tears. “I’m truly, truly sorry.”
He nods. Then turns and leaves. The guards shift, allowing him to pass without comment. I listen as his footsteps echo, growing fainter, until a door slams behind him.
I am alone. Again.
And it is all my fault.