“D’you think a golden girl can rot?”
I shut my eyes against the words, hoping that it’ll shut my ears as well. But still, they batter against me, like hail on a window, threatening to crack.
The driver of the carriage opens the door for us, and I settle inside first, sitting down on the plush green velvet seat. It’s bigger than the carriage I had to ride in while I was nothing more than a would-be captive in Fourth’s army, and it’s more elaborate too. Similar wood carvings are etched into the walls, geometric shapes drawing the eye to concentric diamonds and circles that overlap throughout the ceiling and walls.
When Slade gets inside after me, the door snaps shut behind him, and most of the light and even some of the noise is sealed out. The whole carriage jostles as the driver gets into his seat, and I hear the sharp click of his call as the horses begin to pull us forward.
Slade sits in the seat directly across from me, his wide legs opened on either side of mine. Some of the daylight feeds in through the curtained window right beside us, though it’s filtered through sheer green fabric.
Despite the sounds of the market, the excited voices when people see the royal emblem on the carriage as we ride by, and the clopping of the horses’ hooves, Slade’s quiet voice is the loudest thing in my ears. “Now, I want you to tell me what’s really wrong, and no lying, Goldfinch. I’ll know if you do.”
CHAPTER 49
AUREN
His gaze is the piercing sort that I’ve never learned how to dodge. It cleaves into me, perforating my walls and reaching past the smile I’ve still got pinned up against my cheeks.
The cracks form in my cheeks first, whittling my lips back down, no longer able to hold up the lie.
“Better,” Slade says, the moment my smile drops. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s not important.”
“Don’t be dismissive. We do not lie to one another.”
I let out a snort. “I’m pretty sure our entire foundation was stacked with lies.”
“Maybe in the beginning before we knew we could trust each other, but we’ve moved past that now.”
He reaches forward, snagging my hand, tipping my palm up before I even realize I should try to hide it. I feel the skate of his gaze as he takes in the blotted smears of gold.
“Your gold comes out with your anger.” His thumb brushes against the clammy metal drying on my skin, rubbing it over every line and groove.
“They were talking about me—some men in the market. But I think they might’ve been right.”
His thumb pauses, smears against the pad just beneath my index finger. “What did they say?”
My eyes lift up so that I can look at his face as I speak. So that I can gauge his reaction. “They said that I jumped from one king to another.”
The stern line of his brow lifts ever so slightly as he flicks his eyes up to me. Waiting. Watching.
“Isn’t that what I’ve done?” I challenge, pulling my hand away from his touch. “I’ve gone from Zakir, to Midas, to you. Letting men take care of me.” I shake my head at myself, reeling from the outside perspectives. “I thought I was making changes, making strides to be independent, but what if I’m not? What if I’m making the same mistakes all over again?”
He jerks back, spine gone stiff against the carved wall. “You think you and I are a mistake?”
I toss up my hands with exasperation, because the more I talk, the more frustrated I am. “No. But what if I am hopping from one king to another? I just got away from a one-sided relationship riddled with abuse. I’m finally free of all that, free to live, and I’ve never had that before. Ever. Maybe trying to show my face today was a mistake.”
My chest rises and falls with the waves of my acknowledgement, while his stays still and quiet like a breezeless air.
“For twenty years, I’ve been caught beneath the will of another. What if I want to just…leave? To escape all the bullshit and stay in a little cabin in the middle of the woods where no one can find me? Or what if I want to travel all of Orea, never setting down roots, never staying anywhere long enough to outstay my welcome? I could…learn something new. Climb a mountain. Practice music. I could get a job somewhere. Build something. Get a pet. I could go flirt in a pub. Swim naked in the sea. Go dancing. Make a friend. Kiss a stranger. Maybe that’s what I want.”
My eyes flash up at that last bit, and I catch myself bracing for his reaction.
For a long while, he’s quiet.