Page 127 of Echoes of the Raven
I meet his gaze. His onyx eyes have lost their edge and are now filled with the warmth of candlelight. His expression is soft, pleading. I can only imagine how hard it was to confess the dark deeds that lead him here, how fierce he has guarded his heart after that vile creature tore it to shreds, destroying his ability to trust and forcing him to build barrier upon barrier.
But what can I say? What could he possibly want to hear from me?
He killed his wife, the woman he loved.
I can almost see the vivid crimson of her blood on his blade. Yet, I can’t blame him, nor could anyone else. Most people, me included, would havedone the same. She used his feelings against him. This Saethara was a monster consumed by greed, who used him for her own gain.
Of course, I understand him, and maybe that is what he wants me to say. It’s just… he isn’t the person I wanted him to be. He’s precisely the enemy I feared.
“I would have razed Nilhalari to the ground, if not for Loreleia.”
His words play in a loop inside my head. My mother stood in his way to protect those she loved. And not only that, she did it despite the pain and loss it brought her. Is it my hopeless fate to do the same? Or will it be possible to carve a different destiny?
Nana, what do I do?
I can’t help him reopen the veil. Aiding him now would be a reckless gamble, a risk that could mean the destruction of my beloved Castella. Instead, I should take The Eldrystone from him and never give it back.
RÍFÍOR
“I need time to think,” she chokes out, her eyes refusing to meet mine, “Korben.”
The sentence hangs heavy in the air, punctuated by the unexpected murmur of my true name. It’s a bittersweet moment, and the weight of it settles upon me, a chilling premonition that from now on, everything between us will be a cold formality, a clean break from any warmth we have shared.
“I will leave you then.” I stand and walk away. I take my time exiting, hoping she will ask me to stay, but as I close the door, I see her sitting on the bed, staring at the same spot on the wall.
Downstairs, I find Galen and Jago, sitting at a table, four tankards between them. They turn to look at me, but wisely let me be. I would find no refuge in weak human drink or in the conversation of these fools. I sit in a shadowed corner, lost in the pain of my unearthed memories.
Part of me waits for Valeria, but I know she won’t come. For the briefest instant, I thought she could be mine, but it seems I am condemned to deceive myself.
Hours pass. I feel their slow passage like a wheel slowly grinding on my nerves. The Eldrystone around my neck feels foreign, a weight that used to be part of me now a bothersome splinter that keeps calling attention to itself, reminding me of its twenty-year absence.
I was right to never want the amulet when Father passed it down to me. And if I had known the suffering it would bring me and others, I would have renounced my right to the throne, Theric dynasty be damned. Since Saethara’s betrayal, destruction has been the only word the amulet has whispered in my ear. How did my father remain pure from his influence? How has Valeria? She grows stronger to its effectsevery day, using it wisely even as our quest turns more precarious.
Struck by a realization, I rise to my feet. I glance toward the stairs and hesitate only for an instant before I climb them two at a time and knock on Valeria’s door.
“It’s Korben,” I say when there is no response.
“I want to be alone,” she replies.
“Just one thing and then… I will leave.”
I hear rustling, then the door opens a crack. Her face is pale, and I fear she’s lying about being fully recovered. My lips part as I prepare to speak, but my words get lodged in my chest, crowding it, making it feel as if a thousand bees are stuck between my ribs.
“What is it?” she asks, impatient.
Actions have always served me better, so I take The Eldrystone and pull the chain over my head. Reaching between the door and the jamb, I take her hand and press the amulet to her palm. When she only stares mutely, I bend her fingers around the jewel and let her go.
“It is yours,” I say. “You may do with it as you wish.”
Her eyes waver, and she shakes her head, uncomprehending.
“It should have never been mine,” I explain. “Before I became king, I did not want it. In fact, I feared it. I was wiser then than I have been since.” I inhale sharply and glance away. Scrubbing at my chin, I let out a derisive laugh. “Anyway, that was all I wanted to do. Good night.” I turn to leave, but she grabs my arm.
I glance down at her delicate fingers around my biceps as if they are all I need to find salvation. She misinterprets my look and pulls her hand away, leaving me adrift.
“What are you doing?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
Her question takes me aback. Does she know me that well?
