CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EMMERY
The broken city streets of Asaella flashed through Emmery’s mind as she tried to focus on the words from The Nameless Book open in her lap.
But those images haunted her—the families huddled under abandoned buildings seeking shelter from the night winds; the boarded-up shops, once full of dreams now decimated; and yet another vacant grave, short and shallow, dug for a child.
There was no food to take from the pantry tonight, only some yeast and an empty basket where the potatoes once lived. She whispered a quiet prayer to Deimos that those children would find sleep tonight, even in the cold with empty bellies.
She wasn’t sure why she leaned toward Deimos.
Maybe it was her likeness to Kahlia. Or rather, Emmery’s failure to be like her.
Maybe the rumours were right and Emmery was some harbinger, but instead of causing new destruction, it would be brought through her inability to fix what was already broken.
It was no wonder people had been rioting these last months.
She wanted to join them and scream until her voice gave out.
Emmery pressed her palms against her eyes and leaned her elbows on her crossed knees.
Only the flickering candle lit the room, casting all her doubts and anguish across the wall in shadow puppets.
Curled up above Fionn’s head like some white furry hat, each of Aera’s snores merged with Fionn’s soft breaths.
Emmery dropped her hands to her lap and propped herself up against the headboard.
She didn’t know what to think. How to process any of this.
The tidal wave of a moment, the temporary insanity where she considered kissing Destonne, lived inside her head day and night now.
If she’d given in, not only would it have knocked her off her path, but he was the reason for all the problems in this kingdom.
His sheer inability to patch or mend any of these issues and leave the wounds to fester was inexcusable.
But the reason for tonight’s restlessness didn’t belong to Destonne—it was a result of her own guilt.
And she read Shade’s words like a repentance, a confession.
As she read aloud, her heart ached a little more as inconsolable longing and the unfettered absence of him festered within her.
It was a hollowness she didn’t dare touch, because if she did, it would open up and swallow her whole. She couldn’t allow that to happen.
Emmery distracted herself, as Shade’s words echoed through her.
“In her absence, I’d never tasted life. My days were stunted, the nights solitary, and time trudged on into a bleary eternity.
All until her lips touched mine. My world bloomed, I split down the middle, and my heart leapt into her waiting hands.
I gave her the chance to crush, to decimate, to own every shredded scrap of my soul.
Because it was hers. I was hers. In some pocket of existence, I always had been, I just didn’t know it yet.
That’s why, the day I lost Nyssa, I, too, lost myself. ”
Emotion clawed up her throat. These had to be Shade’s words.
Why else would they burrow inside her like this?
Dive into her heart and live there all these years.
Pulling herself together, she continued, “All colour dashed from my vision, all warmth in my heart frozen over. Loneliness became an impenetrable skin I couldn’t shed, pressing down on me each and every day.
The world was cold without her, and I learned there are worse things than death.
Dying would be simple, a peaceful end, yet to live without the one you love—”
Like a prickling along her skin, she felt him there before she looked up to find Destonne standing in the doorway, his hand clasped around the back of his neck.
Two nights had passed since she last saw him.
The image of his mangled shoulder was still fresh in her mind.
The wave of agony that had needled her bones when she took his pain lived inside her now.
A memory that wouldn’t ebb and churned her stomach.
Was that how he lived, or was it the injury? She couldn’t quite separate the two—the wound and the thorns melded into one jumbled mess.
Aera cracked an eyelid, flashed Destonne a quick snaggle-toothed smile, and snuggled into Fionn’s hair. Her tail flicked in greeting.
Destonne cleared his throat, announcing his presence. “I’m surprised you’re not wandering the streets tonight. It’s undoubtedly the most dangerous place to be with the hound sightings. I was sure you’d run head first into that trouble, since you don’t contain a shred of self-preservation.”
Her fingers tightened on the black bound text in her hands as rage and tension heated her blood, like standing too close to a crackling fire, waiting for a spark to pop and inevitably burn her.
And, fuck it, she was ready to burn tonight.
“Nice to see you too, Your Majesty. Shall I stand and curtsy or—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Destonne’s mouth twisted, and he clutched his arm that’d been torn open by that beast. “We’re past that, don’t you think?”
“Past what?” she asked, her high voice full of mock respect.
“Pleasantries? This is your kingdom after all. You hold the power, the title, and I’m required to show respect.
” He also hadn’t had the decency to even answer his door the six times she’d knocked.
He’d merely ignored her. She clearly wasn’t important.
Destonne snorted. “Since when have you ever shown me respect? You’ve been testing my patience since the moment you arrived here. And each day you seem to push me further like it feeds you some sadistic thrill.”
“Is that so?” she shot back, her cheeks reddening. She clapped her book shut and practically tossed it onto the side table. “I’m testing you? Have you ever thought that maybe you need someone to hold you accountable for the atrocities you’re allowing in this godsforsaken land?”
He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms though she caught the pained twinge of his cheek. “And what would those be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, Destonne?”
The King blinked at her. Blinked again, slower this time, a slight tug to the corner of his mouth. Mocking her. Like the connection at the pond, and everything that happened between them, had been part of his plan. All of this was.
“Something funny?” she asked sharply, echoing his words from the night he hauled her back to her bed after catching her at the Tree of Eternal Blood.
“You’ve never said my name before. Though I can see that rage thundering in your eyes, I’ll count it as progress.
” Cocking his head in that predatory way he always did, he said, “And to answer your question, I know exactly what’s happening in my territory.
In fact, I’m cataclysmically aware of it, and I don’t need you to tell me. ”
“So you see your people starving and simply choose not to care?” she spat.
Anger burned in her throat. “You see people living in filth and out in the cold and it doesn’t eat away at your conscience?
I guess you’d have to have one first. There are children falling to their deaths in the mines to fill your coffers.
You’re executing people everyday to maintain fear. I can’t believe—”
“Stop,” he said, his voice hoarse. His stare bore into her.
But Emmery wasn’t even close to done. “I can’t believe I ever thought you cared about anything besides yourself. All you do is hide out in that damn room of yours and do gods know what. You treat this place like your own personal prison though you choose it.”
“I do not hide in my room.”
“You do!” She launched the words like an arrow. “And maybe you’re trying to convince everyone else of something. Shove an image in front of people. Not that you even take audiences, but this place is cold and miserable, Destonne. It isn’t a home.”
The blow landed and a jagged breath lifted his chest. “No one said you had to stay, Emmery. I gave you permission to leave if you wished. But the conditions were if you stay here, you’re under my protection. So that’s what I did. I protected you all this time, whether you choose to see it or not.”
“By locking me in my room? Because that’s all you did for weeks,” Emmery scoffed. “If you truly think that, you need to take a hard look in the mirror. Are you protecting yourself by being locked in your room too?”
“What if I am?” His quiet tone was almost sad. “Since you’re such an expert on me and the things I do, what if it’s true and I hate this place as much as you? What if I see my father everywhere and it makes me … sick?” He spat the last word.
The vulnerability in his tone made Emmery clamp her mouth shut. But once again, he admitted nothing. It was a question. Bait for her to fall for it without him directly spilling deception. This is what he did. How he slept at night with all of his half truths and twisted words. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.” His arms unfolded and dropped to his sides. “And if you hate me so much, why didn’t you leave, Emmery? You had your chance. But you chose me, remember?”
“It was a mistake,” she snapped, her face flaming. How had they gotten here? How had this conversation inflated so quickly? All of her frustrations peaked and she couldn’t flatten them before they unleashed.
Destonne stepped into the room and swallowed all the air. The candlelight illuminated his face as he prodded, “Tell me why. Be honest with me and I’ll be in return.”
“I’ve played that game before, Your Majesty. I have no interest in being swindled again.”
Destonne sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “How about two truths for your one then? Would that be fair?”
“Three,” she demanded. “I want three of your truths. Three things to hold over your head. And no coin flip or game. I want your raw words.” Emmery got to her feet and outstretched her hand. A seal for this trade.