Page 13 of Fearless

“Everything,” he breathes, quiet enough to have me regretting my harsh words. “Everything changed. I was a son mourning the man I thought I loved. I see now that it was obsession because love was not an emotion Father taught me. But I was bitter, vengeful, unsteady without him here to guide me.” He takes a shaky breath. “I grieved. I learned. I came to my senses. And you’re right. I’m not the crazed boy you left. I’m a king.”

His words hit me hard, like a blow to the chest that’s stolen the air from my lungs. I swallow. “What happened to the son who would do anything to please his father? Because this decision goes against everything he wanted for Ilya, even if you’re saving it in the process.”

He takes a deep breath, avoiding my gaze. “Father only cared about eradicating the Ordinaries, not strengthening this kingdom. He hid under the Elite society he created, and yet, Ilya had never been weaker. I see now how small-minded he was.” Kitt finally meets my stare with a stern one of his own. “And I want to make this kingdom truly great.”

I nod slowly. Kitt’s zeal shines through each word, now no longer smothered by our father. It’s admirable, his love for this kingdom and resolve to restore it. But pride swells in my chest, not for this king, but for the boy who dreamed only of approval. Now he wears Father’s crown and forsakes the infatuation tethered to it.

I force a calming breath into my lungs.

Thoughts of Father are dangerous. They tend to lead me toher.

Escaping from the darkest corner of my mind, broken words slide off my tongue, barely more than a whisper. “Don’t you hate her?”

To my surprise, he forces a smile. It’s a sharp, small gesture he’s willing to share with me. “Do you?”

We eye each other, and for the first time since setting that crown atop his head, I think we might just understand each other. Because suddenly, I see myself in him again. Paedyn is not a right or a wrong, not something as simple as a yes or a no. She is confusion itself, a feeling unplaced, a color between black and white. Hell, she is my Silver Savior. And hating her is not as simple as it may seem.

But for me, it isnotloving her that has proven to be difficult.

“I don’t want this to come between us,” Kitt ventures cautiously. “I want things to be as they once were—us against every opposition. Brothers again.”

I open my mouth to tell him—

The door swings open.

I don’t even need to turn around. The mere presence of her is familiar, branded into the hollow of my neck where her head rests, tethered to my ankle and forever tugging me toward her.

Kitt’s gaze climbs over my shoulder before widening slightly in shock. I turn then, unable to keep my eyes from her any longer.

And there she is. Her stance is somehow stern, expression unsurprisingly the same. Cropped hair dusts her jaw, tousled and wavy. Her father’s leather journal is tucked beneath an arm, flush against the blouse clinging to her figure. Those blue eyes crash into mine like a wave, along with the sudden realization that I’ve been nearly deprived of drowning in them since our arrival to the castle. Only now do I have the privilege to drink her in. I watch her do the same, though the stoic expression she wears never slips.

Pretend.

She’s far better at it than I am. Though, I would expect nothing less from the “Psychic” before me. She has spent the entirety of her life practicing the art of pretending.

Her eyes tear from mine to land on Kitt. “No need to catch me up to speed. I happened to… hear it all.”

My brows rise with a skeptical sort of amusement. “So, it’s safe to assume that your ear was pressed to the door.”

Her eyes flick to mine before offering me a deceptively pleasant smile. “Only until the two of you started shouting. Then the entirety of the hall was eavesdropping as well.”

With a heavy sigh, Kitt lowers himself back into the seat beneath him. “Paedyn, I had every intention of speaking with you about all of this—”

“Really?” Her voice is sharp, cutting through his words like a blade. “Before or after we are married?”

I stiffen, eyes sliding down her arm to the shimmering ring choking her finger. It’s so casually been carried into this room, this conversation. The sight of that symbol here, now, possiblyforever, has my chest aching.

Maybe I’m even jealous of the ring. Jealous of the way it clings to her skin, feels every shiver of her body. Because that should be me.

“Before, of course.” Kitt’s talking again, voice even. He avoids her gaze. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

“Oh, I sure do.” The words are little more than a laugh. “Starting with the task you’ve assigned Lenny to.”

I lean against the desk, legs stretched atop the carpet and ankles crossed. My gaze finds Kitt over a shoulder. “And what task might this be?”

Kitt opens his mouth, but it’s Pae’s voice I hear. “He’s been ordered to guard…” A bob of her throat. “Blair’s door. And likely every move she makes beyond it.”

Rage simmers in her eyes, and just like that, I understand what it is that fuels the fire burning within them.

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