and Father. I feared the worst, but I also hoped for the best. I hoped you lived, even though I thought it was impossible. I hoped you made it, and in that hope, I knew I couldn’t jeopardize your safety. I had no choice.”
She had gone numb now. None of it made sense. “You had no choice but to abandon me and never look back. And now you’re rewarded by becoming the Mad Queen’s right-hand man? You can understand my confusion, I’m sure.”
“If . . . if you come with us, I will tell you more. Come away with me. With us. Come to Varn.”
Her whole body revolted. “What?”
All this time, as they argued, part of her had been hoping . . . been praying. Been imagining. That he would stay. That he would be hers again.
“It’s not like you think. If you come to the queen’s court with me in Varn, you’ll see. I’ll explain everything.”
She kept her voice low and controlled. “So you will be leaving with Junn when she departs, then?”
“Of course.”
She felt like she’d been slapped.
“Yes,” she echoed. “Of course.” She felt disgusted. She had to get out of here. “Well, I certainly hope you and Junn have enjoyed your little visit,” she spat.
“Have some respect,” he snapped back. “Her title is queen.”
Even after everything else, Ayla still felt like he’d just cracked her across the face. Again.
Who are you? she wanted to demand. You’re not my brother, what have you done with my brother—but she knew it would just make her sound foolish, hopelessly naive, like the same weak, terrified child who had summoned the rats.
This. This was her brother. This person, standing before her, ordering her to have respect for a murderous leech—this was Storme.
“I know it doesn’t make sense to you right now,” he said quietly, his eyes intent on her face. “But don’t condemn me. We’re not so different.”
“Of course we are,” she choked out. “I’m not a lapdog.”
“Aren’t you?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I saw the way your Lady Crier looks at you,” said Storme. “It means I saw the way you look at her. The way you spoke to her. The way you almost touch her, sometimes.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ayla said hoarsely. “You’ve got no idea. You’re in the palace of the leech who ordered the raids on our village. You’re in the spider’s nest. You know that, right? It was Hesod. He’s the one who killed our parents. He created her. I would have to be—sick, to—with any spawn of his—”
“Yes,” said Storme. “I agree. Good night, Ayla. Please think on what I’ve said. You can still change your mind.”
And he left her there.
For whole minutes, she stood alone, shaking. In anger. In shock. You can still change your mind. And oh, she wanted to change her mind. She wanted to change everything that had just happened. She wanted to move backward through time to the moment she first saw Storme, and race to him, embrace him. She wanted to move even further backward, to days, or weeks, before they were separated forever, and freeze time right there.
But, like so much else that had happened in the last months, she was reminded that life didn’t work like that. No matter how terrifying and ugly the future was, no matter how difficult things were going to get, you couldn’t avoid it, and you couldn’t go back. It didn’t work like that.
Not when your past was covered in as much blood as hers was.
The only way to go was forward. Into the darkness. Into the chaos.
She pushed her way out of the north wing and into the night air. She stalked the grounds, almost daring a guard to discover her, to report her, to drag her before Hesod for questioning. She’d tear his Made eyes out of his head, right there.
She was too furious, too upset to rest, but her legs and mind ached so badly.
She wanted to curl up in Rowan’s arms, as she had that first night Rowan had found her, and weep until she was too dry to weep again, until she was an empty shell. But Rowan was gone on a journey that could very well end in her death. Ayla didn’t know when, or if, she’d ever see her again.
Ayla wanted to lie down and never get back up.
She wanted her mother’s lullaby. But it wouldn’t come.