Page 14 of Fearless

Adena.

I’d watched that branch tear through every muscle and tendon in her chest. Watched Paedyn crumble in that sandy Pit, cry over the bloody body, and scream when it shuddered its last breath.

But behind that tragic scene stood the winner of the final Trial. Blair guided that branch through Adena’s chest with her mind and a smile.

When my eyes slowly climb back to Paedyn’s, it’s revenge that reflects in them. And I have a feeling that Blair’s blood will be the only she enjoys on her hands.

“I have to keep the peace,” Kitt says slowly. “Her father is a trusted general, and I can’t have my future queen picking fights within the castle. I knew you would go after her, and I figured that placing Lenny between you two was the safest option.” He runs a hand through his hair, tousling the blond strands. “I need you on your best behavior if this… arrangement is going to work.”

“And you want this to work?” Paedyn asks with a sudden calmness that’s begun to creep over her. “Ourarrangement. The uniting of the Ordinaries and Elites.”

“In order to save Ilya, yes,” Kitt clarifies. “We must open trade again, and that is only possible if the surrounding kingdoms no longer despise us. I would elaborate further about our marriage, but it seems you already heard my reasonings through the other side of the door.”

Her silver hair swishes with a nod. “I did… gather most of the information I was looking for. Except for the question you avoided.” She steps forward, tossing the journal before us. Her fingers curl around the edge of the desk, nearly brushing mine. “Do you not hate me? After everything I’ve done?”

Kitt takes a long, trembling breath. My eyes flick between the two of them, nothing more than a witness of this civil standoff. “It’s not about hating or loving you. It’s about what is best. And I cannot rule a kingdom that has fallen.”

“I killed your father,” she replies bluntly. “And you forgive me for that?”

“You have yet to apologize.”

“I was protecting myself from him,” she whispers. “I need you to know that. He came at me, and I barely made it out of that fight alive.” Her voice trembles, but she pushes on, head high. “I’m sorry that I killed your father. But I will never apologize for killing a tyrant.”

Silence smothers the room, so loud it’s nearly deafening.

I watch Kitt’s face for any sort of shift and know that Pae is doing the same with that Psychic-like observance of hers. But he doesn’t so much as blink, perhaps even breathe. When he does speak, his words sound slightly choked. “You don’t need my forgiveness. You only need my protection. And now”—Kitt’s voice grows callous, so opposite his tone toward me—“I’ve given you purpose.”

Her knuckles grow white around the desk’s edge. She blinks, her face a canvas of shock and hurt and muted understanding. But Kitt has every right to harbor animosity toward the Ordinary who killed his father, so Paedyn simply nods in response to his earnestness. She pushes no further on the matter of forgiveness, not now.

“What about everything else? The disease you were told us Ordinaries possess?” She reaches for the journal then, tearing through worn pages until the hasty handwriting is on display. “My father was Adam Gray, a Healer in the slums. And he recordedeverything.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “His journal entries state that Father was bribing the Healers, offering them their weight’s worth in silvers if they backed the lie that Ordinaries were slowly dwindling our powers.” I blow out a breath. “And as much as it pains me to admit it, everything written in that journal adds up. It’s no wonder every Healer lives lavishly in the higher kingdom. They have all the means and no desire to help those in the slums.”

When my gaze lands on Pae, she nods in silent gratitude before continuing, “Every Elite in this kingdom despises the Ordinaries. Getting paid to spread lies about them was only a bonus for the Healers. And the king,” she adds almost awkwardly, “took advantage of that hatred. He tried to buy my father’s silence, more than once. But he was one of the only Healers who stayed in the slums, aware of the lies but unable to do anything about them.”

“So he started the Resistance,” Kitt sighs out, still avoiding Paedyn’s wide gaze. “Calum has filled me in on all the details. As did the letter Father left me.” He looks as tired as he sounds when his fingers begin massaging the crease between his brows. “I know of the lies Healers have spread for decades.”

Paedyn swallows. “And are you going to tell the kingdom this?”

Kitt waves a dismissive hand. “Yes. Though I’ll spin the truth into something more appealing. I may have grown to despise my father in recent weeks, but that does not mean I wish to tarnish our family’s name.” He leans forward then, eying the ring on her hand that I can’t bring myself to look at. “I will protect the Azer legacy. But…” His next words are reluctant. “I will also protect you, Paedyn. The kingdom will be told a variation of what really happened outside that arena between you and the king.”

There is an edge to his voice, a bitterness I don’t recognize from him. And it doesn’t seem to be directed at me. Shoving the thought aside, I nod down toward the desk drenched in parchment. “What of the records and Calum? They convinced you to change Ilya?”

Turning to me, Kitt’s expression softens. “It wasn’t immediate. I had spoken to Calum several times, trying to glean information about the attack. Only, he spoke mostly of why there was a Resistance in the first place. I learned more about the slums and deprivation the kingdom—my kingdom—was heading toward.” His gaze drifts to Paedyn. “Everythinghe said paired perfectly with what I had seen the day you snuck me from the castle. I know now how that was little more than a betrayal for the Resistance”—he nearly laughs then—“but, nevertheless, it helped open my eyes.

“Calum, Mind Reader that he is, knew I was beginning to see the truth. He counseled me, suggested I marry Paedyn in order to save Ilya. I wasn’t going to. Not at first.” The king looks up at me. “But I visited the queen—your mother—and she told me of the letter Father had left for me. It was a plan, she said, for the future Edric wished Ilya to have. Something each king passes down to the next.”

He pauses to clear his throat. “It was only after reading it that I realized what needed to be done. Father didn’t care about Ilya—he hated Ordinaries. And the damning records of our dwindling food supply and overpopulation was proof of that. He failed to create an Elite society, and now we must face the consequences.”

Each word rings with disgust and betrayal. And I am glad of it. Finally, after all these years trying to please him, Kitt sees our father for what he is—was. Paedyn’s expression reflects the king’s, as though he’s spat every bit of revulsion onto her face.

“His hopes for Ilya were crippling. Simpleminded. And he wanted me to continue them for him.” Kitt shakes his head in reminiscence of a time when he would have done anything for our father. “He was destroying this kingdom for a futile cause. It was greatness he craved, and instead, he accomplished mediocrity.”

My brows lift, as if floated up by the wave of shock flooding through me. This certainly is not the brother I left mere weeks prior. Something has changed, stemming from something else as seemingly insignificant as disappointment.

“So,” Paedyn ventures skeptically, “you no longer want to obey your father’s wishes?”

She asks this knowing full well Kitt’s reputation. His whole life has been spent aiming to please a single man who he has now defied with a single decree. My gaze flicks to the king seated before us, watching words fall from lips tinged with a smile. “Why obey a man when I can be a far greater one? I once thought Father’s plans for this kingdom were worth my unflinching loyalty, but now I see that they are not.”

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