Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Adrian
“You will fall. And when you do, you will finally see your own tyranny.”
Isat up from the mountain of pillows upon my bed to find my servant entering my room, a plate piled with sweet pastries and juicy fruits in her hands. I gave her a tired smile as she set it beside my bed and then noticed the man who’d followed her in. That explained the warning in her eyes.
“My apologies, Lady Adrian,” the man spoke primly, properly.
I recognized the voice at once and pulled my sheets up to cover the lace undergarments I’d slept in after fighting with my gown half the night.
“I'll be happy to wait in the foyer until you make yourself presentable in any way you wish,” Prince Leo said. “I can even adjourn to the hall if you would prefer—"
“No, that’s fine,” I babbled quickly, motioning for assistance from my servant. “Just one moment.”
The palace maid pulled a dressing gown from within the closet and helped me slide my arms into the material, cinching it around my waist.
"I'm sorry," I spat, unsure how one was supposed to address royalty when one found them in their room. "I've slept in. I should have come to breakfast. I—"
"No, no," he waved a hand, friendly smile lighting his face as he turned, golden curls bouncing. Prince Leo always seemed to be in a good mood, much unlike his Captain. "It is I who is intruding upon you. I do apologize."
I shook my head, hazel locks falling into my face.
"However, in light of this morning's events, my father has noted tempers running a bit high between our individual parties.
For that reason, he's decided to move our discussions up to today rather than tomorrow," he informed me as I blinked at him, caught off guard.
"I apologize for the last minute notice. "
"This morning's events?" I asked, clueless.
"Ah, yes. You haven't heard? But of course.
You've been sleeping. It seems there was a slight…
altercation between your former partner and the general this morning.
Nothing Captain Roman couldn't handle, I assure you, but my father is wary of this alliance as it is.
We both deemed it prudent to settle matters before any further impulsivities might tarnish negotiations. "
I clenched my jaw. Dante and Gryfon had gotten into an altercation this morning? Why? I wanted to ask the prince but something about the way he was watching me seemed to indicate he assumed I had more insight on the matter than he. Unwilling to expose my own ignorance, I changed the subject.
"Your father wants us out," I said, simply. It wasn't a question. I could see things from the king's perspective. We'd come uninvited and unannounced and were now causing problems within his walls. I could hardly blame him for wanting to be rid of us.
"You're welcomed guests," Prince Leo said, though it wasn't exactly a disagreement.
"Welcomed guests with tempers," I replied, raising a brow.
His lips stretched into a wide grin and he barked out a laugh.
"Yes, well, we knew as much of the general," he confessed. "Dante isn't much of a surprise."
I frowned. I wished I could say the same but the truth was, Dante had been surprising me for a long time.
"Ksenia told me before the avalanche fell in the ninth Trial, you cried out curses against the gods," Prince Leo said and my gaze flicked back up to find him already watching me.
There was something in his eyes as he leaned toward me, intrigued, prodding.
"She said it was so silent in the arena you could've heard a pin drop. "
"I was angry," I said.
"You were right. Even locked inside Sanctuary, hidden away and lied to for generations, you knew something wasn't right.
You saw the Geist for what they were, even then.
And when that hole blew through the snow, when that cloud of darkness swept over the arena making the Geist scream and scramble away, I hoped it was you who caused it. "
He watched me carefully as he said it, letting me come to terms with all he'd revealed. Ksenia had been there, somehow. She'd seen it, the moment I'd released the darkness within me for the first time. She'd told her prince what I'd said, what one of us had done, and they'd been waiting ever since.
"It was," I told him, my voice even, steady. "Are you going to do anything about it?"
It was a dangerous play. I was walking a knife's edge with this strange, foreign prince. He would either respect my bravado or grow irate with my tone. But if I didn't take the leap, didn't challenge him, how would I know he was truly with us when it mattered?
"I've known two types of leaders during my limited experience with politics," I said. "Those who rule because they are loved, like Prima, and those who rule because they are feared, like Cosmo. I wonder, Prince Leo of the humans, which are you?"
He seemed to consider the question for a moment.
"I suspect you're the sort of woman who wouldn't believe my answer no matter what it was," he replied. "So I'll simply have to let you discover the truth for yourself."
I nodded, accepting this answer. It was the fairest he could have given and, he was right, the only one I would believe.
"Twenty minutes," he told me, backing away toward my door with a grin. "Throne room."
I nodded and watched as he turned on his heel and exited into the hall a moment later, my servant bowing to him as he took his leave. The moment he was gone, she descended upon me with a brush and fresh garments.
Twenty minutes was not nearly long enough.
So, by the time my boots were slapping against the stone on my way to the throne room, a good half an hour had passed.
I walked as quickly as I could, reveling in the feeling of cotton on my skin again.
The general was wrong about the clothes.
I wasn't just a Verdunn, or a Fallen, or the Corruption or any of it.
I was Adrian, a girl from the Third Ring who'd always valued comfort above station.
I didn't have any clue what I was doing, playing at a war beyond the scope of anything I could have imagined, but I knew one thing.
If I lost myself in this, I would lose everything.
So I kept the crisp white button up shirt and scratchy brown pleated pants.
I kept the dust-covered boots and loose tendrils of hazel curls.
And I entered that throne room, to bargain for the future of my people, as myself.
All eyes looked up from a massive table in the center of the room when I entered.
The king and prince were at the far side of the circular monstrosity, holding court over an intricate map carved into its surface.
Little figures of burgundy, white, and brown littered the top of it, one of which the captain held in a hand as he froze while leaning over to move the piece.
The general stood on the opposite side of him, arms crossed, a smattering of his own warriors surrounding him.
His face was as cold and impassive as always.
When our eyes met, his gaze dipped to my attire. His lips dropped in a slight frown before he turned away, attention returning to the map in front of him. I noticed, however, his posture seemed more tense than before, if that were even possible.
In the corner behind the captain stood Dante and Ksenia and her Zver, Phantom, along with a few royal guards. In the corner behind Gryfon stood Kane and Zya along with more of our warriors. I made a beeline for them.
The king watched me pass with a frown as the prince resumed the discussion, pointing to an area on the map and saying something about impassable dunes.
"Hey," Kane said from my side, squeezing my forearm without glancing my way, "you okay?"
I nodded, though I bit my tongue to keep from actually speaking.
I still felt like a fool for having cried over him again.
I'd promised myself he wouldn't get to do that to me anymore.
I was over it, moved on. I'd vowed never to even think about Dante of House Viper again.
And yet here he was, staring at me from across a human throne room as if I couldn't feel his gaze on every inch of my exposed skin.
I wanted to shout at him to stop, wanted to storm across the room and slap him, wanted to shove the darkness down his throat again until he couldn't breathe anymore, couldn't look at me like that anymore.
But most of all, I wanted to hate him. And I didn't.
I should. No one had any reason to hate someone more than I did to hate Dante.
I could live a hundred years, a thousand, and the pain of what he did to me would still haunt my broken heart.
I would spend every second of my miserable existence mourning the lack of the bond, experiencing that absence like a hole in myself.
And I still wouldn't hate him. I couldn't. Because we'd been something more than just partners.
We'd been two halves of a whole, and that wasn't something you could simply forget.
I was Dante and Dante was me. To hate him would be to hate myself and, as broken and flawed as I was, I did not hate myself. I never would.
"—then we'll have to see it," someone was saying.
I blinked back to reality to find that attention in the room had shifted to me once again. I looked from the king, who'd spoken, to the prince who seemed to be watching me expectantly.
Gryfon's jaw tensed as he turned and strode through his little crowd of warriors until he was standing before me.
"You don't have to," he growled. "You aren't some sideshow attraction for these people. You don't have to perform for them."
Oh.