Page 9 of Fearless

“No,” I blurt. Then I’m softly adding, “Thank you. I’d like to leave it.”

Ellie nods, though I’m sure she aches to ask my reasonings. And if she had, I would have told her. I would have admitted why I cling to the crooked ends of my hair.

The bangs I continually cut for Adena looked the same.

Those jagged silver strands tether me to long nights in the Fort, snipping Adena’s curly bangs with nothing but the stars to see by. She would giggle at the tickling sensation while I chopped a crooked line through her hair. And then we would laugh, both blaming each other for the unfortunate outcome.

Now I will never again get that privilege. So I hold on to her in the ends of my own hair.

“What was it like?” Ellie finally asks, eyes wide. “Fleeing across the Scorches like that?”

“Lonely,” I murmur. “Terrifying.”

Ellie nods slowly, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “Well, this length suits you. And I’m glad you’re back. Safe.”

“Thank you,” I offer quietly. “I’m just as shocked about that as the court.”

“Yes, I heard about that.” Her voice is the embodiment of a wince. “And I can’t say that the staff took the news much better.”

“I can only imagine,” I groan. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m poisoned by the kitchen crew before the end of the week.”

Ellie shakes her head, cloth persistently gliding over my skin. “Oh, no, they wouldn’t dare. Not with the king having claimed you as his bride-to-be.”

Claimed me.

Those are words I certainly never thought would be associated with Kitt. His brother, on the other hand… I know exactly what it feels like to be claimed by the Enforcer. And I’ve embraced it.

“Well, that’s… reassuring,” I mutter.

“He’s been doing much better, you know,” Ellie adds softly, her eyes trailing the scar down my neck. It’s a struggle not to squirm beneath the weight of her obvious concern. But she continues, mercifully. “After his coronation, he was rarely seen. Kept to himself, locked in that study of his.” She leans in, lowering her voice as though we aren’t the only people occupying this room. “He’d dump his food from the window. Some of us servants stumbled upon the pile of scraps beneath it in the courtyard.

“But it’s to be expected, of course,” she continues with a sigh. “He was grieving his father, after all.” Her eyes slide to mine before quickly darting away. “And clearly Calum’s visits seemed to help. His majesty was able to hear firsthand what was happening in his kingdom, not just read it from the records.”

I nod slowly, still trying to piece this perplexing puzzle together. “So, Calum would visit him? In his study?”

“Well, not at first,” she amends. “He was in the dungeons for several days enduring Plague knows what. But I suppose Kitt saw something in him and decided to talk more civilly.” Ellie shrugs. “That’s really all I—and the staff—know on the matter.”

I’ve never been so completely shocked and unsurprised in the same moment. Such a contradiction is the only reasonable response to the past hour of my life. Because, despite my hope for him, I never truly believed Kitt would strive to make changes that contradicted everything his father told him to believe. And it seems I was right. This king does not care wholly for a united Ilya, only that this kingdom remains by whatever means necessary.

I almost find the courage to smile, because this is a start.

Kitt has every right to hate me after I killed his tyrant of a father, but heneedsme. Together, we could save this kingdom from more than just ruin. We could liberate it from the segregation that has plagued this land for decades. Perhaps, without Edric here to feed his son lies and prey on that insatiable need for approval, Kitt will be able to think clearly for the first time.

And with Calum offering him council, helping him see the truth of this kingdom, there might just be hope. His eloquence combined with that intent way in which he listens help make the Mind Reader so persuasive. Or maybe he simply uses that ability of his to comb through our thoughts, picking apart how we feel and think before saying exactly what needs to be heard.

My eyes fall to the bed, where my only belonging lies slumped on the floor beside it. The dirty pack was likely brought to my chambers by a reluctant servant. But it’s the journal residing inside that I itch to show Calum. Show Kitt.

That bound reminder of my father has me swallowing thickly. It’s odd, how the man I once knew was merely a thread in the tangle of truth I’m only now beginning to unravel. Until recently, Adam Gray was simply a father, a Healer who taught me how to survive with tedious observance and training. Then I watched him die. And that one devastating moment plunged me into a life I never thought I’d survive.

My father was the leader of the Resistance. Except, according to his journal, he wasn’t really my father at all.

Having been trapped within my mind for far too long, I turn my attention back to Ellie. “And the other Resistance members? I assumed some were taken as prisoners.”

She shakes her head solemnly. “Last I heard, they were in the dungeons as well. But that was right after that final Trial, and it’s been a while since then….”

She trails off, giving me time to imagine each cruel way they could have died. I wonder how many Resistance members—how many Ordinaries or the few Elites who supported them—were captured after that battle in the Bowl Arena. How many died brutally, because even after years of planning their uprise, it all went to shit.

Standing, I step out of Ellie’s gentle reach. “I need to speak with Kitt—the king.” I clear my throat. “And Calum.”

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