“Andhe compounds the insult by inviting her to his personal quarters for drinks.” Juliette interjected. “I say we burn his palace down.”
“Talk dirty to me.” We grinned.
The levity was brief, though.Sincemy father didn't see fit to lecture me any longer, I turned and entered the house, heading straight to my room.
I needed a hard drink, and a dive into oblivion.
* * *
Embry's eyes haunted me.
I woke from the dream, sweating, and rolled out of bed. In my attached bathroom, I splashed water on my face, removed my soaked sleeping shirt and hosed myself off in the shower.
He'dwanted to live, the shock of an unexpected death at the hands of a girl—generally considered to be insignificant except for the potential of her bloodline—ripping a please from his throat that a son of the Prince never would have otherwise lowered himself to make.
I didn't want to go backto sleepand see his face under my lids, but I needed the rest.
I crawled back into bed, closing my eyes.Darkan?
His presence emerged. A splinter of myself thatfeltentirely distinct these days. Almost old, certainly knowledgeable and controlled. I didn't understand how my psyche worked. In fact, I was beginning to think—
You needto sleep, Aerinne. You cannot afford to lose rest.
Why isEmbrythe one who haunts me? I’d killed before him, and after, and slept just fine.
A long pause, the silence fey with tension.Youknowhe didn't deserve what you did.
I considered. High LordEmbry was a scholar, a musician who taught classes open to even the few humans who lived in Everenne, at Everenne’s only university.He'dbeen well liked, and something more curious.
Apolitical.
I don'tknowwhy he showed up that day. How did heknowwho I was?
You are the only one who thinks you are insignificant.
I opened my eyes so I could roll them.That's a joke, right? Everywhere I go, the High Fae and even influential Low Fae, blather about me being a halfling wench.
They use a small truth to conceal a greater one.
Which is?
Silence.Becauseof course if he had some sort of major insight, he wouldn’t just tell me. I sighed, rolling onto my stomach and clutching my pillow.
I'dwantedrevenge.
Revengeformy mother,revengeforDanon.
How doesrevengefeel?Darkan asked softly. He delighted in holding a mirror of my shortcomings up to my face.Teachingmoments, he called them. Lessons.
Like rusted razors in my gut.
Sonowyouunderstandvengeances’ true value.Nowyouunderstandthe price of murdering innocents.
That stung.
Ordoyou? Do you kill without thought, without remorse?What lost sleep or tears shed over the blood on your hands?
Until Embry? Ihadn't.Maybe I was a sociopath, but my therapist assured me true sociopaths didn't worry about that. My emotional numbness was a trauma response, compartmentalization enabling me to continue to do what needed to be done.
