Page 60 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“I think it’s time to explain myself.” He wore a serious expression on his face as he watched me.

“Why bother? It’s all in the past.”

“Because I can’t stand the idea of you hating me.” I swallowed, uncertain about his statement. Though I’d said it—tohim, no less—I wasn’t sure it was true anymore. There was no way I’d tell him that, though.

“Who said I even cared enough about what happened between us to hate you?”

He sighed, glaring at me, knowing I was being difficult on purpose. “You cared.” He paused long enough for my stomach to clench and tighten. “I think it’s time I explain what was going on in my head. I was barely twenty years old, heir to a throne that belongs to a monster, and I’d been raised to believe certain things and act a certain way. And I think it’s important you know how that might have reflected in my decision-making back then.”

“Poor, tormented, little prince.” When a glimpse of hurt flashed in his eyes, I sighed. “Go on.”

“I had no say in anything back then. I never agreed to the betrothal. I hated Crown Cottage. I hated you and your sister that first year. Gods, you both were awful. You were what, thirteen or fourteen?”

I laughed, knowing full well just how awful we were back then. The two of us fought with each other and everyone else every chance we got. I remembered harassing Dewalt especially, less afraid of him than we were of Rainier. We couldn’t stand the snotty prince who Lucia was promised to, and the idea she would have to marry him made her so angry. I’d always thought she was being a bit overdramatic. Even back then, I thought he was nice to look at.

“It’s fine. We hated you too.” He huffed a laugh, and I was momentarily distracted by the smile that accompanied it.

“You know I’ve always been raised with the knowledge that my duty lies with Vesta—one day I will be king. I spent my whole life being taught what was best for the kingdom, and I was told that was Lucia. That she and I would fix not only Vesta, but the entirety of the Three Kingdoms. Do you know how daunting that was for a teenager? From our betrothal until her death, I was burdened with the expectation we would fix everything. That we were both bound by duty to be the answer.”

I nodded for him to continue when he looked at me expectantly. I’d never thought of Rainier’s part in the prophecy—by marrying and bonding with the Beloved, he would also be destined for greatness. That if she were able to unite the Three Kingdoms, he would have a large part in it. I knew how overwhelming the burden was for her, and I’d never comprehended it was also his to bear in a way.

“And I decided long before that night that I didn’t want to do my duty anymore if it didn’t involve you.”

My breath caught in my throat, and I was grateful I didn’t choke. It didn’t make any sense for him to say any of this—especially not now. I wasn’t sure if I could even believe it. He’d left me, adrift and lost, with not a single person who would stand up for me.

I recovered quickly, ensuring he couldn’t see a single emotion on my face. I didn’t want him to see what I felt before I had the chance to process.

“Such pretty words. And yet…” I kept my voice steady and cool. Despite what he just said, it didn’t change the past. I saw something like guilt flash through his eyes before his expression tightened.

“You have no idea how much I was struggling—to maintain my identity, my duty, everything I’d been raised to believe and to be. And that night in the cavern, I said what I did because when I was with you, I realized I didn’t give a single damn about the rest of it. The Three Kingdoms could burn, and I wouldn’t care.” He took a deep breath, and I noticed his hands shook. “So, Ihadto stop it. It was my duty—to be what Vesta needed, to bond with Lucia, to do everything right. And you—you were a threat to that.

“I kept trying to find ways around it, ways to have everything. Ways to be a diligent prince, an honest man, and still have you. And I never found it until she died.” I was unintentionally holding my breath as he spoke, the intensity of his words taking up all the air in the room. “And a small, sick, disgusting part of me felt relief when she died because of what it could mean for us. And even though I immediately banished the thought, I don’t know if I’ve ever forgiven myself for it. What kind of person finds a fragment of relief in their friend’s death? Not just my friend, but your sister. I felt so fucking guilty for that fleeting thought, for dropping the wards, for almost gods damn killing you, for everything.

“Part of me was angry about how I felt about you, really. I didn’t want to want you. Shit, Em, Istilldon’t want to want you. I hate the loss of control, and it’s all I ever feel with you.” I nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue while I felt my heart thundering in my chest. The implication of his words made my heart heavy and light at the same time. He waited a moment longer, those bright green eyes locked onto mine, before continuing.

“I hated that loving you came with those feelings of guilt, of not feeling good enough for Vesta, of not feeling good enough for you, for any of it. And I was a damned coward. You were right the other night; I do think I made a mistake.” His eyes locked onto mine, and I saw regret in them, along with something more. Something that seemed a lot like hope.

I took a deep breath, willing my spine to become steel. He didn’t want to want me because I wasn’t what he dreamed of for himself. He still didn’t want that for himself. So, none of this mattered.

“I’m not sure how that changes anything.” It sounded like regret, just wrapped in a nicer package. I knew he expected me to feel disgusted with him because of his relief over Lucia’s death, but that would make me a hypocrite. I missed her every single day and thought about her often, but if I said I didn’t find any sense of relief afterward, I’d have been lying. Part of me was glad to be done with the Myriad, the Crown, and the expectations. He might have felt relief about his standing with me, but I felt relief about all of it. Maybe we were both disgusting and depraved, but I wouldn’t judge him for it. Would either of us have traded any of it for her life, though? Absolutely not. I’d have endured it all with a smile just to have her back. But this helped me understand his actions better; he was young, and it was difficult to have that stress. Knowing that what he felt for me caused him to spiral so low sent a pang through my chest. But understanding and acceptance were two different things. I understood, but I couldn’t accept that he’d let me beg—when I was so broken and unmoored—and he’d left me stranded on my own. The fact he thought it was a mistake meant little in the grand scheme of things.

“Finally being able to tell you changes everything for me.”

I tried to remain calm, counting my breaths to center me, if only because I couldn’t let myself unravel over the past. I had never thought about his perspective that day other than the fact he didn’t want me. I’d lost my sister, and then the man I loved didn’t—wouldn’t—choose me. I’d lost everything. I’d been begging him for a reason to stay, and he’d been so wracked with guilt for his kingdom, for his dead friend, that he felt he had to let me go. But where did that leave me?

“Why didn’t you tell me before? At the burial, or hell, before that? Why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling?” At the very least, I’d have known he didn’t want to break my heart. He gave a soft laugh before answering.

“Do you think you would’ve understood?Ibarely understood. I knew I wanted you and shouldn’t and that was it. By the time I—I didn’t truly understand until it was too late. I never thought you would have gone through with the marriage. You’d do what you always do, and you’d talk or fight your way out of it—you wouldn’t accept it. But I was wrong.”

He was exactly right. Knowing the conflict Lucia felt being the Beloved and even the comparatively small conflict I felt being forced to marry Faxon, I would have tried to understand. But it wouldn’t have mattered. Between that and my feelings at the time, without her, without my other half, I hadn’t had the fight in me to stop things. Duty won, as it always did.

“I couldn’t do that to them, to my parents. Not without a good reason.” I stopped myself from saying I wanted him to be the reason. He knew.

“We both wanted to call it off, you know. We’d been talking about finding a way out of it.”

“You and Lucia?”

He nodded, leaning back in the chair, lightly resting his hands on his bare stomach. I tried not to look, finding a dark spot on the table to stare at. She’d offered to call it off, if I wanted. But she had never told meshewanted to. She would eventually be queen, bonded to one of the most powerful conduits in Vesta. Sharing his power, his throne. I couldn’t have asked her to let go of that for me. She had always seemed hopeful about being a princess, being a queen. But if I’d known she wanted to—for her, not for me—then my answer might have been different.

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