Tobias stared into her eyes, still sorting through the haze of his mind, though one singular detail had become perfectly clear.
“You’re The Savior.”
“I was going to tell you,” She said. “Just before I left. I was going to tell you.”
Tobias said nothing. He hoisted himself upright, cringing as new aches shot through him.
“Careful—”
He held out his arm, keeping Leila at bay. “You’re not a healer.”
“Of course I’m a healer. It’s in My touch, see?” She trailed Her finger along his chest, leaving behind a swirl of light that faded away. “All that I touch becomes new again. Stronger. It’s My birthright. My duty to this realm.”
Her hands retreated back to Her lap—hands he knew well, except now they glowed.
“And all Your potions?” he said.
“Water. Clay. Perfumes from the bathhouse. Some of it had medicinal qualities I’m sure, but most of it did little more than alleviate the smell.”
“What of Cosima?”
Leila went rigid. “A woman of My court. An ideal replacement—she certainly looks the part, doesn’t she? That porcelain skin, and those eyes.” Her lips tightened as if She was fighting back venom. “And most importantly, she was happy to play along. To be spoiled with attention. Too happy, it turns out.”
So many questions, but the answers materialized on their own. All the times Leila had visited—at night, far from the light of the sun. The handprints that had marked his body—the body Leila so frequently touched. His quick-healing injuries, all the claims he was favored. Each memory bombarded him, even the smallest details: Leila’s grandiose chamber, the warmth of Her hands.
“The signs were there,” he mumbled. “I should’ve known.”
“Signs are easy to ignore if you don’t know to look for them.”
He rubbed his forehead. “You must think I’m an idiot.”
“Tobias…”
“God, You and the Sovereign even have the same hair.”
“Stop it, please.”
He dropped his hands. “So, what happens now?”
Leila toyed with the folds of Her dress. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I don’t know who won the tournament. It was either you or Flynn. Either way, I believe I’m promised to be married, except I don’t know to whom. I might be promised to two men, even. What a scandal.”
She forced an unconvincing chuckle, but everything else about Her remained tense—a feeling they shared. He stared emptily ahead.
“Tobias?”
He didn’t answer, slowly filling with shame. Anger.
“Tobias…”
“You lied to me,” he muttered.
“I never lied to you. Not really. I just…withheld the truth. But what I said to you—our conversations—it was all true. All real.”
“Call it what You will, You lied to me. You did. You know it.”
Leila wavered. “It was not without reason.”
She looked so different, not because of Her glowing skin or Her piercing eyes, but because every moment they had shared had become convoluted in his mind.
Leila’s The Savior.
With that, his insides chipped away, shattering to pieces.
“This tournament… It was all for You.” His eyes narrowed. “You said You hated it.”
“I do,” She maintained. “I’m the Ruler of this realm, yet I can’t choose My own husband. No, I’m assigned one, a man I hardly know aside from a few brief interactions, rewards for all the killing. And it’s tradition? Do you understand how absurd it all sounds? Men died—”
“For You, Leila,” he said. “They died for You.”
Her voice softened. “I know.”
Leila’s The Savior. The words repeated in his mind, and he wished it would stop, that he’d wake up in some other bed to another reality.
“It’s not what I wanted. I fought to have it all called off, but Brontes—”
“Milo…” Tobias shook his head. “He died for You.”
Leila’s lips parted, but She didn’t speak, Her gaze heavy with defeat.
“Zander… Orion.” A pang shot through him. “My God…”
Her eyes welled with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“And they didn’t know. I didn’t know. The Woman we were fighting for was with us the whole time.”
“Tobias…”
“You could’ve told me at any moment, but You didn’t. You let me remain a fool. And for what purpose?”
“Tobias—”
“Was it all part of Your plan?” Tears clouded his vision, but he forced them into submission. “You trick twenty men into thinking they’re competing for Cosima, and all the while You, what? Observe? Manipulate?”
Her face dropped. “No, you have it all backwards.”
“You said Your family was nonexistent.”
“My Mother was murdered when I was still in Her belly.”
“Your father is living.”
She grimaced. “Brontes is no father to Me.”
“Cosima propositioned me.” He clenched his jaw. “Was that of Your doing?”
“God, no. How could you think I’d be capable of such cruelty?”