Page 69 of Fearless

“No,” he says slowly, “but you likely have one.”

“So you do know me, after all,” I tease.

“I thought I did.” Another chocolate disappears into his mouth. “Once.”

A frown pulls at my mouth. “I haven’t changed. I’m still that girl you knew during the Purging Trials.”

“No,” he counters. “You’re hardened.”

I stop chewing. Our eyes lock in silent scrutiny. “I have to be. That is the only way Ordinaries can survive in Ilya.”

“Well, soon you won’t be Ordinary.” The king sounds ruffled. “You’ll be royalty.”

My laugh is humorless enough to draw a look of surprise from Kitt’s stoic features. “Maybe. But your father ensured I would never forget who I really was.”

Maybe it’s habit, or anger, or a cruel mixture of both that has my gaze falling to the top button of his crumpled shirt. It seems history refuses to go unrepeated. Once again, I’m avoiding the gaze of a man who nearly killed me. And despite the reminder that these green eyes do not belong to Edric Azer, I still find it difficult to meet them. Even in death, the late king tortures me.

“There you go again,” Kitt murmurs.

I will my stare to meet the speculating one he’s pinned on me. “Hmm?”

“There was a time when you couldn’t look me in the eyes,” he says evenly. “Just as you’re doing now. And in the gardens, you told me it was because I reminded you of someone. It was my father, wasn’t it?”

I lean back, slightly startled by his question. But if I want to restore that relationship between us, I need to be honest. “I thought your father killed mine,” I explain softly. “And, well, in a way, he did. It was Kai he gave the order to. Kai I watched bury a sword in my father’s chest. ButI didn’t know that until the king taunted me outside the Bowl.”

Kitt’s voice is numb. “And that is when you killed him.”

“Barely,” I murmur, remembering every blow the king rained down on me. “It was like he had been waiting for that day. Like every blow was planned. It’s all become such a blur now but…” I glance over at his stiff form. “But, yes, I avoided your gaze, your company, because you look so much like him.”

The chocolates sit forgotten on the floor, now little more than witnesses to our hushed conversation. “And when you did seek out my company,” Kitt says dryly, “it was because you needed to find a way into those tunnels.”

“No.” My explanation is a flurry of rushed words. “Well, maybe at first. Yes, I needed a way into those tunnels, but it became so much more than that. Iwantedto spend that time with you, be honest about what I was doing. But I wanted to make a difference more. And I knew how close you were with your father….”

“So you assumed I was against the Resistance, against Ordinaries, as well,” he finishes for me. This is followed by an indifferent shrug. “To be honest, I never much cared what happened to the Ordinaries. Banished or not, it didn’t matter. But my father was obsessed with ridding Ilya of them, and it was his undoing. His greatest failure.”

I fiddle with an empty wrapper, rolling it between my fingers. “And now you’re marrying the one thing he hated. Better yet, the one thing that killed him.” My whole body tenses in anticipation of my next question. “And you’re okay with that?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” he mutters. “You know, I didn’t think I would be able to look at you, either. Not after what you did. But I quickly realized that my father wasn’t worth pleasing. His praise wasn’t worth obsessing over.” He mindlessly gathers the chocolates in a tight circle. “Now, I will be the one to make Ilya great. My own way.”

I nod slowly. “I’m glad to hear he doesn’t still control you.”

He lets the words hang between us. My fingers take advantage of the tense moment and lift a chocolate to my lips. I savor it, tasting nostalgia between each nutty bite. This is the chocolate I used to steal for Adena on special occasions. The last of which was her birthday, though we hadn’t known it would be her last at the time.

“I can’t say the same about you.”

I’m pulled from my thoughts and back onto the king’s plush floor. “What do you mean?”

“He clearly has control over you. My father,” Kitt clarifies. “Otherwise, you would have no issue looking me in the eyes.”

I’m doing it again. My gaze snaps up from his throat to crash into the familiar gaze above. It is heavy atop the purple smudges of restlessness.

It’s time he knows.

Kitt opens his mouth again, but I’m already moving, already gathering my courage alongside the folds of my shirt. Determination overrules my sudden desperation to hide this marred piece of myself. But if this man is to be my husband, he will soon see every bit of brokenness that makes up my being.

So I might as well start with the scars on my heart.

I shift in front of him, forcing the tremble from my voice. “He doesn’t control me. He haunts me.”

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