“But—”
“Everything isn't about you, Aerinne! She'll call you when she wants to endure your guilt and self-loathing, like everything is always your fault and you're one bad day from falling on your sword in the town square to repent.”
It stung. Maybe I was selfish. Was my grief this public thing that burdened my House? Did—did they worry I would kill myself? I'd been a little off since the last deaths, since the Vow, but. . .
Damn.
I needed to deal with my issues if they were bleeding over into everyone else’s lives. I might have been avoiding my therapist. But honestly, I'd thought I was doing well, and Darkan didn't like her anyway.
To make my life even more miserable, a panic attack hit me in the middle of a nightmare. A dark eyed female tried to catch me, and when I ran, dense fog captured and held me until I jerked awake, lavender smoke in my nose. I'd huddled in my bed for hours, fighting away images of every bad deed, every fuck-up, scenarios of anything that could go wrong, and—like Juliette said—how it would be my fault.
I tortured myself and couldn't stop until the trance brought Darkan out of his shadows. He listened to my babbled anxieties patiently, walking me through each fear with relentless patience and logic until I centered myself and finally fell asleep, the impression of a tall body curled around me.
“I’m not well,” I whispered before falling asleep again.
So is everyone who ever lived, little one. It is good you're learning to deal with your mind now. One day you will be powerful, and powers who don't know themselves are powers who destroy those around them. Sleep. I will never leave you to face your fear alone.
Needless to say, I was content to remain quiet during the second day of negotiations.
Sitting at Renaud's right side again, I counted through another attack. The strong sunlight and anchoring voices of my father—and Numair and Juliette guarding my back—helped this time.
I needed to spend time away from Everenne to get my head straight. I hadn't been away since the last visit to my father's hometown in Kenya with my Aunt Fatma.
“Aerinne,” the Prince murmured.
Damn him, why did he have to seat me next to him? Why descend from his clouds the moment I wanted him to ignore me? Had anyone else noticed my tight, sweating face?
I glanced at Baroun, and he caught my eye, giving me a slow smirk. He was doing his best to block every small concession Faronne argued for.
“I'm fine,” I said in a hoarse whisper, averting my gaze away from that asshole. I couldn't play his games today.
Renaud nodded, conceding to my request to not make a deal out of my weakness. I breathed through my mouth as the physical pain in my temples subsided and reached a shaky hand toward my glass of water, knocking it over onto the documents instead.
Brilliant.
The Prince lifted a finger. “Escort my lady to her room in the palace. See to her comfort.”
My room? I had a room? Wait— “I'm not leaving the negotiations.”
His eyes hardened. “You will do as I command, Lady Aerinne. Or I will remove you from the negotiations permanently.”
Permanently, as in I wouldn't be able to attend because my head would be liberated from my shoulders, or the less permanent permanently, as in having my role revoked?
We stared at each other, the threat suspended between us.
I gathered strength and dignity and rose, absurdly grateful I wasn't shaking, and inclined my head.
“I am grateful for your indulgence.” I sounded rabid. Keysia snorted.
“Of course you are,” he murmured as I walked away, and I couldn't quite tell if that comment was literal or ironic.
Staff escorted me to a suite, and I prowled, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with sheer drapes pushed aside to let in the sunlight, the pale, elegant furniture, and behind a set of open doors, a sunken tub. Light, airy, luxurious without being gaudy or ostentatious.
This was no simple guest suite.
But I kicked off my shoes and climbed beneath the covers a servant pulled back for me on a massive bed and let my eyes drift closed, the cool silk pillowcases easing my pounding headache.
I didn't wake until the sun had sunk beneath the horizon.
