Page 68 of Of Songs and Silence

I would not have been capable, even a week ago. I am barely capable now.

The only relief comes when I let them down long enough to respond to simple questions, or to congratulate the victors at dinner.

Once again, the families of the dead are relegated to a table of honor, even though there is nothing honorable in making them hide their grief and feast and celebrate the people who murdered their children.

Danica invites me to join her in her rooms after dinner, though it feels less like an invitation and more like an order.

Which is just as well. I wouldn’t have refused her. I’m not ready to be alone in my room on the other side of Ari. His presence as he escorts me to her chambers is overwhelming enough, though he doesn’t so much as look at me.

When the door shuts behind us, Danica gestures toward the long sofa in her sitting room. I take a seat and watch her fill two goblets with dark purple jellies before she joins me.

She takes a drink, and I follow suit, relishing the small bursts of flavor. It reminds me of a rich, dry red wine, earthy and wooded, with notes of cocoa. It warms me from the inside out, the same way my favorite vintage did at the chateau.

“You don’t have to choose him,” she says, abruptly breaking the silence in my mind.

I freeze, my gaze meeting hers. Does she mean whoever wins these games? Or does she know somehow what transpired between me and Ari? She subtly glances toward the hallway where Ari stands guard on the other side of the door, and my insides twist.

There is no point in denying it now. All I can do is hope she will keep my secrets, as she has.

“That’s not how I understood it,” I say.

Her mouth flattens into a terse line, reminding me more of my mother than she ever has before.

“The soulmates were thought to be a gift from the dragons, providing the royal line with the means to find their perfect match,” she explains, leaving me to fill in the obvious conclusion.

That it doesn’t always feel that way.

“Everyone in the royal line?” I ask.

She raises an eyebrow. “Yes, my father has a soulmate.”

I don’t miss her use of the present tense, but it’s a baffling thought.

“We did not know it was possible to reject the soulmate bond, but when my father killed Natia’s husband and their daughter to rid her of anycomplications, she vowed never to forgive him. She said she would rather die than be bound to a monster.”

Natia.

The woman from the cage. The one whose hand he took. I think back to him grabbing at his limb like there was a phantom pain. The venom with which she looked at him. The lack of fear.

“Is she your mother?” I ask, trying and failing to keep the horror from my tone.

“No. Cepheus took only concubines to bear his children when he could not have Natia. He killed them after, so we would not get too attached.”

“Did it drive him insane? Being separated from his soulmate?” The thought is barely a whisper.

Would she be to blame if it were? The kingdom would have paid the price, but was it her responsibility to give her life to a man like him?

“Weren’t you listening, child?” Danica cuts my stream of thought off. “I said you do not have to choose him. It is possible to be separate from your soulmate. The emptiness will still be there, but the urgency will fade, with great distance.”

I don’t ask her how she knows it’s possible. She said all of the royal line had soulmates, yet I have never seen a trace of hers.

“I did what I had to in order to keep him safe,” she confirms. “So as I said. This is not a choice you need to make. You can go back on land.”

I consider her words. I don’t have to choose Ari.

Only when those words sink in do I realize how badly Iwantto choose him. It isn’t just the bond that draws me to him. It’s his subtle sense of humor, the warmth he hides underneath his gruff exterior. It’s the way he is willing to work against a man no one has ever beaten, a man who is backed by the might of a dragon itself, just to give his fellow people a better life.

No. I don’thaveto choose Ari. But given the option, I would, every time.

---