Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Then, I find an entry that is pages long. My throat sticks closed as I read it.
My heart is so full that I almost dare not write this down in case I’ve imagined all this happiness. Arcus hasn’t been gone a day, and Luthian has already come to me, at my invitation. He bade me burn the letters I sent him, for he said he had not the strength to destroy evidence of our love himself.
Our love! I’m overflowing with joy I thought I would never experience in my immortal life. Before Luthian, I saw only endless tedium with Arcus, nights of frustration as he pleased himself with others and denied that freedom to me.
But Luthian is right; we cannot write down our declarations, lest someone find them. Even these words are a risk. But if I’m to be content only with memory, I will not let a single one fade. I will write it all down, so that I will never forget his hands on my body. The way he filled me. The desperation in his voice as he breathed my name while we lay, still joined in the aftermath of our hours of pleasure.
Why should the words of a dead woman pierce my heart so? The sympathy I had for her is difficult to summon as envy darkens my heart. And why? Because Luthian loved her? Because they shared these intimate moments in a romance that was destined for tragedy?
And though I know how it ends, I can’t help myself. I turn to the last pages. The final entry is smudged with tears.
How to explain to such a wonderful being that I am leaving this world? If I had stopped for a moment and considered that death might be the outcome, of course I wouldn’t have done what I did. I would never have chosen Luthian over my life. I never did. Who could foresee that so great a love could turn to darkness?
My stomach churns. Luthian loved her. She died because of it.
This was never about gaining power at court and punishing Arcus for the insult of exile. He seeks vengeance for someone he loved, just as I did. How did I not see it? He warned me about my anger at Thrace, how it would extinguish my spirit. He could warn me because he already knew. We walked separate paths to the same destination, but now my path has ended.
Yet, when I was ready to simply wish my revenge, he talked me out of it.
I missed my chance at vengeance because he was too busy seeking his.
“Cenere?”
I stuff the diary under my pillow and throw back the covers, standing and turning my back to him. My guilt is no doubt written across my face.
Luthian hurries to my side. “I know things are difficult, but you can’t be here. If Arcus finds out—”
Tears glaze my eyes. I hate crying when I’m angry. I know I look foolish and childish. How can I expect an immortal being to take me seriously if I crumple to bits in my fury?
Luthian stops himself. “What’s happened? Has someone done something to you?”
“Yes. You did.”
I turn to find him, mouth open, unable to utter words.
“You didn’t tell me why you’re really here.”
I can see it the very moment that he knows. His silver gaze goes mirror-like, then dark. “Who have you been speaking with?”
“It doesn’t matter who I’ve been speaking with.” I can hardly admit that I’ve encountered revelations from the dead. “You said you wanted Cassan to be king. I never questioned why. I took you at your word when you told me you simply wanted to regain favor at court.”
“Taking a faery at his word was your first mistake.” He paces, unable to face me. “Your mother should have—”
The mention of my mother opens another wound, which has been festering ever since, “You were born for it.”
“My mother was desperate for a child! She would have agreed to anything for those wishes. Did she know what you were going to use them for?” I demand. “Did you know you were going to use me?”
“Cenere—”
“No! Your first word should have been a denial!” Tears flow freely down my face. “Anything you say now is some excuse you’ve constructed. The only thing that will stop me from leaving this place forever is the truth! You were in love with the queen. Did she die because of you?”
My words hang in the air like a noose awaiting his neck. I watch a lifetime of sorrow play out on his face in the heartbeats before he speaks, and though I expect him to break, he does not. “I loved her. I love her still.”
“She is dead!” I pound my fist against my chest. “I live. And I want you. I’ve made no secret of it. Yet, you choose Firo. You choose a dead queen over me. I will never be the one you choose!”