Page 95 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
I take a shaky breath, met only with silence.
“Then tell me,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I hold his gaze. “Be honest with me.”
A flicker of something unintelligible crosses his face. His eyes dart away for the briefest moment before locking back onto mine. Thesilence continues to stretch like a shield he refuses to lower, no matter how hard I try to break through.
"Why can’t you say something?" I press, stepping closer, my voice rising just enough to cut through the low hum of music around us. "If this is some game, some ploy, I deserve to know what part I play in it."
"Lailah…" he begins, his voice soft, strained, as if the truth is clawing at him from the inside. "It’s not that simple."
"Don’t," I snap, the shortness in my tone barely masking my anguish. "Don’t tell me it’s complicated. That woman—why is she here? Why are you pretending to be someone I know you’re not?"
"I thought you said we barely know each other," he counters softly.
"Then tell me," I demand, my voice cracking despite the strength I try to hold onto. Casper’s eyes flash with something—regret, hesitation, or maybe fear—but he doesn’t move.
"Ican’t," he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He exhales slowly, his composure cracking for the briefest of moments. "There are things I can’t explain."
"Can’t or won’t?" I challenge, my hands trembling against his.
Casper’s lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, I see the battle in his eyes—the desire to tell me everything thrashing against the chains of whatever holds him back.
"You don’t understand what you’re asking," he says, his voice heavy.
"Then make me understand," I plead, my voice breaking. "I can’t keep wondering what’s real and what’s just another mask."
Casper’s composure falters, a glimpse of the storm beneath.
"It’s not a mask," he says quietly, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself more than me.
"Isn’t it?" I counter.
The silence is deafening, his refusal louder than words. His shoulders tense as if he might walk away, but then he speaks, low and dire.
"Lailah, some truths destroy more than they save."
"Then let that be my choice," I say, my voice trembling with anger and desperation.
His silence lingers, the ache in my chest morphing into anger. His gaze locks with mine, magnetic and unrelenting, pulling me closer despite my frustration. As I move toward him, a chill sweeps over me—a cruel reminder of where I am.
My father’s icy gaze cuts through the room, freezing me in place. The tension thickens, the air charged, and I notice Jason nearby, hand outstretched, as if trying to break through the stillness. Yet Casper remains unmoved, steady amidst the shift. I step back, but it’s too late—the words I never wanted to say are already spilling out, uncontainable and damning.
"Fine," I snap, my voice breaking. "Whatever this is—it’s done. I’m in love with Jason. I always have been, and Ialwayswill be."
Casper flinches, his composure cracking.
"You don’t mean that," he murmurs.
I nod my head, my voice soft but firm.
"I guess we can both admit we don’t truly know each other’s desires after all."
The words leave my lips like poison, foreign and bitter. Casper stiffens, his gaze still locked on mine. His silence cuts deeper than I expected. He looks like a ghost of himself, wearing the same distant mask he wore with the dark-haired woman. My heart sinks.
“Please forgive me, Princess,” he murmurs.
I’ve heard that before.
Not just the title, not just the tone—buthim, saying them. Another moment, another night, when his voice was just as heavy, just as unreachable. It pulls at me now like a thread caught in a fraying seam, unraveling everything I’ve tried to patch back together.
