Chapter 35
The Truth
“Pants suit you, Thea,” Edwin muses minutes later, his dark eyes lingering far too long on my thighs. If Brynn had a blade on him, I believe he might stab Edwin through. He eyes the shortsword at Edwin’s hip as though sizing him up by it.
Alma does not seem to care. I guess their relationship was short-lived.
I consider leaving Brynn, Glo, and Jasmeen alone in my chambers to figure out what’s going on, but that seems risky.
Lost in my own indecision, I shift my weight and a sudden pain bites my thigh.
I glance down. The dagger. No blood. Yet the ache lingers, sharper than it should be. My stomach roils. I must tell them—I—
I grab the dagger by its hilt and fling it on my bed, away from me.
But my head is so light that I cannot think straight.
My nerves nip at me like frost. My frigid hands tremble.
My chest constricts sharply, like I’m hyperventilating on crisp winter air despite it being late summer.
Somehow, this ghost of a panic attack is worse than the real thing.
And Simon. A marriage contract.
A cold realization washes over me. Every time Simon’s wicked eyes watched me—almost from the first time I bled.
His constant presence. His greed for power.
He has always fancied me, but this seems deeper.
A betrothal to the sole heir would guarantee him a spot on the throne.
I am going to be sick. This is all too much—too heavy for my shoulders—my knees wobble and I fall against the bed’s wooden frame.
Darkness blurs the edges of my vision. Brynn grabs my elbow to steady me and—
“Your Highness?” Alma asks, lunging forward in concern.
I flinch, at once shocked back to reality—I forbade her to call me that.
Brynn’s grip on my arm tightens as he turns to her.
He does not blink. Alma falters, recoiling under his disarming gaze.
For a suspended heartbeat, I believe he might think she was addressing him.
But slowly, comprehension washes over Brynn’s face.
Hurt. Anger. Confusion. Every imaginable emotion flickers across his features as he pieces it together.
“I—I need to tell you something,” I breathe. He shakes his head, releasing my arm as though it burns him. Glo, who likely did not hear Alma over Edwin’s incessant fidgeting, looks between us in marked confusion. “Alma—Edwin—p-please give us some privacy. You can wait outside for a moment.”
Alma and Edwin obey, backing out of the room without protest—the tension so thick it could be cut with Edwin’s stupid sword.
I should have confessed the second we arrived here.
So that they at least had the option to go back through Glo’s passageway before she dismissed it.
Mistake after mistake after mistake—they have all piled up and are at last burying me, suffocating me.
And it’s what I deserve. I dallied too long on my last chance to make things right.
“Y-you’re—you are—” Brynn sputters. His hands scrub at his face and he crosses the room like he wants nothing more than to put as much distance as possible between us.
Glo’s brow is so creased I fear she may become stuck that way.
Jasmeen looks much like she did before my outburst at Blackwood Inn after discovering Brynn’s title.
She braces for another explosion. From whom is anyone’s guess.
“A fucking hypocrite?” I offer.
“What the fuck is going on?” Glo asks, throwing her arms up in exasperation.
“I am Thea Gale. Princess Thea Gale, sole heir of the Kingdom of Clouds,” I say in one breath. There is no fight in my voice. Just pathetic desperation.
No one speaks. The only sound is my boot’s relentless tapping on the ground. Glo watches Brynn carefully. I can’t bear to look at his face, so I stare at hers. It contorts with, if I’m not mistaken, hatred.
“I should have told you. But—I—I don’t particularly enjoy being a princess.”
What a stupid thing to say.
Glo’s sudden bark of a laugh startles me. It sounds loosened—deranged. She turns on Jasmeen. “And you knew, too? Were you in on this?”
“I—I found out when we arrived in Royal City,” Jasmeen says. It’s apparent by Glo’s harsh expression that she does not believe her.
“Jasmeen played no part in this,” I say, locking my arms across my chest and chancing a glimpse at Brynn. He stares at the ground at my feet, his golden eyes unfocused. “There’s only one liar here. Me.”
Again, silence. Jasmeen shuffles around in her discomfort.
“I will take you to Mavick’s right now—so that you can go back to Sanctuary.
I didn’t think—before summoning Alma. My plan was to tell you myself once we arrived, so you had the choice to return, but Glo immediately dismissed the passageway—not her fault, of course, I should have—I got ahead of myself in my nerves—I—”
“Why would we go back?” Brynn asks. The softness of his voice shatters me. The truth spews from my mouth like water from a broken fountain.
“Because—because I lied. Because I hid my title from you. Because it’s probably my fault Mavick was taken.
Because now a marriage contract is drawn up and I am to be sold to the highest bidder—all because I—albeit somewhat unwittingly—committed High Treason by using Yield against my father—the King. I could be hanged. I should be hanged.”
Brynn crosses the room in one breath, taking my face in his hands. Both Jasmeen and Glo stiffen. Glo steps closer instinctively—though who she plans to protect is debatable.
“This is what you were hiding?” Brynn demands. His brow creases with conflict. His eyes burn into mine as tears blossom. His grip tightens, but the pain of it grounds me.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“And nothing more?” he asks, searching my face hungrily.
“I promise that’s it—I swear—”
“You lied about nothing else? Your actions were not a ploy to use me?”
“Never. Truly, it was not a lie—not an act—I—”
Brynn’s lips crash into mine. I emit a surprised yelp against his mouth. I am too stupefied to move, my entire body numb under his hold.
Glo is not amused. She scoffs in disbelief. “Seriously, Vir? She committed treason. She tricked us—we’re as good as accomplices now.”
Brynn breaks away from me, letting his hands slip down my arms to take mine. I feel lightheaded and frail. I could never deserve his goodness—there is no goodness in me. Somehow, this is worse than his anger.
“I understand not wanting this. I understand running away from it,” Brynn says, ignoring Glo, his gaze still transfixed on me. “I understand feeling trapped. You could have told me. I would have stood by you, regardless.”
“I—I should’ve told you. I was so stupid,” I say, the tears freely flowing now.
“And now Simon has drawn up a marriage contract with my father—I should have never gone after Mavick—or—or I should have come back as soon as I learned what Yield was—I knew it was an emergency and I was too much of a selfish coward to—”
“Who is Simon?” he asks.
“My father’s advisor. He has always been a villain—has always craved more. I fear he found his quickest path to power—through marrying me. I am heir.”
The silence that follows is stifling. At last, Jasmeen speaks up.
“Well—if your father is still under the influence of Yield… as I suspect he is… there’s a possibility you could talk him out of it.
Simon has no sway over the word of the princess.
It’s a magic elixir—fae magic—it’s rooted in outdated semantics and details.
You know, the devil is in the details. Your influence overrules his. ”
“Or I could stab him, if you’d like,” Brynn offers, his voice low and possessive.
“Are you all daft?” Glo asks. Her voice has risen an octave. “What are we doing, Vir?”
I side with Glo. I hate me, too.
Jasmeen walks over to Glo and grabs her by the shoulders.
“Thea is our friend—I know you know it. You can huff and puff all you want—be mad that mortals lie. But there are worse things than lying. Being kept locked inside a castle devoid of contact with the outside world, for example. Oh—or being forced into nonconsenting marriage contracts. And—not to mention—being put into a position of power you do not want—where your mistakes could cost the lives of thousands. Fuck duty—it’s yet another way to take away autonomy.
Thea deserves the right to choose, like everyone else. ”
This—this is what it’s like to have friends. Genuine, real friends. A pitiful sob escapes me. I am overcome.
“Godsdamnit—well when you put it like that—” Glo melts a little under Jasmeen’s touch and words. I pull away from Brynn to embrace both of them.
“I knew you were fierce, Thea,” Glo says warily, though a corner of her mouth tugs upwards, “but I underestimated you—you are fearless. Treason?”
That word again. Fearless.
“You’re wrong—I’m not fearless. I’m reckless. An idiot. Quite desperate. And I made a lot of mistakes to end up here—and I’m aware I do not deserve it whatsoever—but I am so fortunate to have met you. All of you.”
We leave my chambers shortly after. Despite Brynn and Glo’s eventual acceptance of my lies—and the brief reprieve this brought—I cannot erase the dreadful, stony feeling that has settled low in my stomach.
Alma and Edwin do not question what happened.
They appear too nervous to speak in front of my new friends.
Good to know they still fear my wrath as well.
I could release them both and be done with it.
The irony is not lost on me—that I used Yield against my father so that I wouldn’t be forced to yield to a life I do not want.
Now, as cosmic punishment, I may instead be forced into marriage anyway, because of my decisions.
Funny how that works out. Jasmeen and Brynn were right.
Fuck fate. Mavick said there were no strings attached when they gave me the elixir, but they were wrong.