Broken Throne - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,94

the point.” I cover her hands with my own. Her fingers are cold. “Your cousins will be supporting a queen in exile. They could say you’re imprisoned, enslaved—anything to justify maintaining their laws and their superiority. There will be a regent, whoever the highest-ranking Samos is left. Speaking in your name, ruling in your name. All while you hide here—”

Her eyes flash open, bright with anger. She shifts beneath me, sitting up so I have to clamber away.

“Are we hiding, Elane?” Angry, Evangeline gets off the bed and begins to pace. She combs a hand through her hair, tangling and smoothing the silver locks in succession. “Or are you hiding? It is what you’re good at, isn’t it?”

Everything in me tightens. I am not quick to anger, not like Evangeline. I’ve never had a temper like hers. But I am not a stranger to rage. Slowly, I slip a bracelet from my wrist, grateful I’m wearing no other metal for her to sense as I let it drop to the floor.

And I disappear.

“Elane,” she sighs, not in apology, but exasperation. As if I am some burden or embarrassment.

It only incenses me further.

I am well practiced in the art of silence. Every shadow is. She keeps her eyes on the bed long after I’ve left it, unable to see me as I cross the room.

“Apologize,” I hiss in her ear. Evangeline jumps as if electrocuted, whirling to face my voice.

I release my grip on the light, unwinding the manipulation keeping me invisible. But I don’t let go entirely. Shadows gather along my edges, open wounds for her to see. After all, Evangeline is always twisting her iron and steel with every passing emotion. She might as well see how much she affects me too.

Her focus lingers on the shadows, tracing them. For a second she reaches out to touch one, but thinks better of it. “I’m sorry,” she says, deflating before my eyes. I hear regret in her voice, enough to take the edge off. “That wasn’t fair of me.”

“No it was not,” I reply. My shadows ripple in response, ebbing and flowing in a tide. It’s my turn to hunt, and I circle Evangeline. “If anyone is hiding, it is you, Evangeline Samos. You never leave the estate. You barely speak to anyone outside our circle. You won’t even say good-bye to Ptolemus, let alone go with him. Or tell anyone—anyone from before—what you are.”

What we are. But even now, I’ll never admit it, not to her, not out loud. She’s sacrificed a life for me—and still, somehow, I want more. I need more. Her love, her dedication. A promise given in sunlight instead of shadow. It feels wrong and selfish. But I can’t deny it either.

She must read disappointment all over my face, and venom overtakes her. “Oh, and you’ve sent letters all over, haven’t you? Given a broadcast detailing every piece of your romantic inclinations?” I half expect her to shred something, a doorknob or one of her gowns, maybe. Instead she stands still, moving only to point a shaking finger. “If I’m hiding, so are you.”

“My father knows. My house knows. Every person in this building knows who I spend my nights with and why.” I hear my voice tremble, but I have no issue holding my ground. I’ve faced far worse in the courts of Norta and the Rift. “I am doing what I can to build a life here for us.”

Evangeline just sneers, and I see the disdain in her. Not for me, but for herself. It hurts more than anything she can say. “You think blending in isn’t hiding, Elane? Invisible or simply in shadow—either way you avoid being seen.”

Suddenly the dark edges around me flare, blinding for a moment.

“What is so very wrong with wanting to belong here?” I thunder, waving my hands at the timber-and-stone walls. “Evangeline, I know how difficult it is to unlearn the lessons we were taught. By my colors, I know.” The old motto of our country spills out on instinct. It already feels like a relic. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t dream of going back. Ruling a kingdom next to you. But that world, as we are, is impossible. This place might be harder. This might feel against nature. Reds and Silvers, the newbloods—I’m still getting used to it. But they let us live as we want. It’s worth the trade.”

Only when I’m finished do I realize I’m holding her hands, and specks

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