Landon
K ingston was in his office before I left for my run, and I couldn’t wait any longer.
The hope on his face lanced through my chest, but I still couldn’t understand it.
I only knew I had to tell him.
Blue-gray eyes met mine, shining with relief, and my mind jolted so forcefully, I stumbled.
You—Why would you do that?
Why wouldn’t I?
A response to his question—words I hadn’t spoken, but felt sure I’d said—reverberated in my head.
Kingston’s voice silenced the echo. “Landon? Is everything alright?”
I shook my head to clear it, forcing the memories away. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
He set the pen down on the desk. The movement careful, controlled. Like how he moved when his hands shook and he wanted to hide it.
It usually happened after he spoke to his father. Worse whenever he saw him. But the looming cloud that was Drake D’Arthur hadn’t fallen over us yet.
And while he might arrive at any time to throw Kingston off, I couldn’t pinpoint what caused his reaction now.
Unless he suspected what I had to share.
“We should talk away from here.” Kingston rose from his chair, moving quickly.
“Kingston, I?—”
His eyes met mine—fierce, insistent, and sharp. But the words didn’t match. “Landon, please.”
I nodded once and followed him. Like I’d always followed him. Trusting that he’d lead me where I needed to go.
I didn’t remember why I’d let that happen for so long, but it still felt right .
When we reached the lake, he didn’t stop. He kept walking along the shoreline, past the trees, until Pendragon was out of sight. I glanced uneasily over my shoulder.
“Max is there,” he reassured me.
I frowned over the conversation I’d had with Max Dread earlier. “That’s another thing we need to talk about.” When Kingston sighed, I clarified. “He’s still hell-bent on hating me for what happened last year. He still intends to?—”
“Quinn knows who you are, Landon. I suspect she realizes as much as I do how Max’s hatred for us has been misplaced. He will come around.”
“I heard what you said before. I’m not the one dragging up old wounds.”
“But you still won’t let yours heal.”
I stalked past him, not wanting to get into that. What happened last year—Kingston had absolved me of blame, as if that should quiet all the guilt.
But it never quieted.
It wouldn’t abate.
“You tried your best, Landon. You did more than anyone else would have in an impossible situation.”
“That doesn’t change that she’s dead.”
He hung his head. “No, it doesn’t. But the blame for that falls on the shoulders of those who caused it. Not yours.”
I ran a hand through my hair, agitating the strands as his words needled their way under my skin.
“Nancy left. My sister is gone because of me.”
“No, Landon. She’s gone because she loved her best friend and she lost her, tragically and unexpectedly. And she couldn’t bear to live in the place that took that love from her.”
“How do you?—”
“You’re not the only one who felt guilt after Desi died. Nancy was my Maiden, but Desi—She joined The Quest because I asked. I take responsibility for that. You never would’ve been in the position you ended up in had I not set everything in motion.”
“And you spoke to Nana after she left?”
He nodded, his head still bent.
“Why?”
Lifting his head, he locked eyes with me, but I couldn’t read the answer in his gaze.
Again, my voice echoed through my head.
You’re my best friend, Kingston. Can’t you see this is killing me?
I shook my head, my heart pounding in my ears. Palms slick with sweat, I clenched them at my sides.
We’d gotten off track.
“Forget it. That isn’t why I needed to talk to you.”
His spine went rigid, and he nodded. “I know. But it matters, Landon. Especially with everything coming. What I said to Quinn—I need to trust you with these secrets, too. The ones I’m allowed to share, at least.”
He said that again, and with my mind calmer, I heard them. “You said something about that the other day. That this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t ask for it. What?—”
“I still can’t tell you that.”
I growled in frustration. “What can you share, then?”
“If Quinn doesn’t come forward, my father plans to accelerate the betrothal. He’s testing me. Somehow, even with all I’ve done to throw him off, he suspects I still?—”
He swore under his breath and looked away, shaking his head before bringing his eyes back to mine.
“He won’t give me two years to find a way out of this deal. It will happen as soon as The Quest ends.”
The impact of his words hit my chest.
He’d be forced to marry her. It would happen immediately. And it was my fault.
I’d failed him.
“Kingston…”
“I made a choice, Landon. I knew this was a risk.”
“But I?—”
“You couldn’t stomach it. And believe me, I do understand the feeling.” He looked away from me for the first time, his head turning back to the house. “You fell in love with her. And you acted on the information you had at the time. Information I gave you.”
“Yes, but I didn’t?—”
“Information I withheld, too, Landon. This is on me. Not you.” He sighed, staring at his hands as he twisted them together in front of him. “And even though I have no right to ask for it, I need to hear it from you.”
“We—” The words lodged in my throat, but he didn’t need them to know the truth, so I nodded instead. “It’s too late. Before the Knights’ Quorum, we…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. “I fell in love with her, and she deserved a choice.”
He nodded, straightening even as his hands shook. “You were right to give her one.”
Splintering inside my chest splayed out like ice across a frozen lake, sparkling midnight blue in the moonlight.
The pain on his face fractured my heart. Hurting him... It betrayed the marrow of my being. Cut deep within my bones—fierce, insistent, and sharp.
His blue-gray eyes met mine, filling with tears over what I’d done…
But Kingston held back his emotions. His eyes were filled with grief instead of tears, and I didn’t understand what my mind fought to remember.
Or why it hurt to let the truth step into the light.
Why would you do that? You won’t remember any of it. You won’t remember ? —
You’re my best friend, Kingston. Can’t you see that this is killing me?
Can’t you see ? —
His voice filtered through my head right before he whispered, “It’s not your fault.”
He promised me that, just like he always did.
Kingston never blamed me. He never said it was my fault.
Except I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was.