“I’m sorry,” I mumble against his heart. It beats slowly, faintly, as always. “I’m a fool.”
“For falling in love?” A shadow tickles my cheek. “I cannot agree.”
I curl my fingers tighter into his clothes. A wave breaks against the cliff, the echo reverberating through the tower.
“I want her to rule. I want a different Briar, one where I’m respected and treated like an equal. I want—” I break off, shaking.
“You want her.” Kal smiles, but it’s sad. Shadows swirl around his shoulders like tentacles. “I understand. But is it worth everything, Alyce? Because that is what it will cost.”
Anger swallows my grief in a single violent gulp. I shove Kal away harder than necessary and stalk to the other side of the chamber.
“Do not mistake me,” Kal says after a while, a cautious hand on my shoulder. “I do not mean to discredit your feelings. Your kiss broke the curse.”
I taste salt on my lips. “But why us? Why that kiss, when I’m Vila?”
Kal taps his index finger gently on my forehead. “I think you know. The union of a Vila and a human. Two races sworn to despise each other, who irreparably harmed the other during the war, coming together. That alone is powerful magic.”
My head throbs. What he says makes sense, but I still do not fully believe it.
Kal runs the pad of his thumb over the crust of tears on my cheekbone. “Please. Think.” He pauses, waits until my eyes lock with his. “Think of everything she has to lose by choosing you. How much simpler it will be for her to abide her father’s wishes. Are you certain she will not take that path?”
“Yes.” There are so many variables in our plan, but of that I am sure. “Invading the Etherian lands is madness. She will not let her father do it. She will not lose her crown that way.”
“But will she keep you by her side? Or will she use you and discard you? As everyone else has done.”
A taste like bile slides over my tongue and down my throat. Thunder rumbles in the distance, raising the hair on my arms.
“You are making a mistake,” Kal continues. “I do not wish to lose you.”
“Stay with me, then.” I reach for him as white flashes through the gaping hole in the stones. “I will plead your case to Aurora. You’ve more than paid for your crimes, especially if you agree to help us. She’s reasonable. She won’t do what her ancestors did.”
“You are determined, then.” His jet eyes harden, shadows curling away from me like they’ve been burned. “I will not dissuade you.”
It isn’t a question. And I don’t answer. My chest aches, but I don’t try to explain myself anymore, beg his forgiveness, or win his favor back. I have made my choice.
“I will free you first,” I vow. “I won’t let you rot here if things go badly. But I hope you’ll change your mind. I don’t want to choose between you.”
His next words, laced with misery, hurt worse than any torture the king could have devised. “Oh, Alyce. You already have.”
* * *
—
In the upper floors of the tower, there is a small chamber where the ceiling is mostly intact. Its narrow window looks out over the black, restless sea, the moon like a silver coin hidden behind the clouds. I do what I can to make it habitable. The bed is in decent shape, although the bedclothes are moldy and reek of brine and dampness. But it’s better than the disease-riddled straw of the prison cells. Rubble and broken furniture litter the floor, including the remains of an ancient spinning wheel.
Though I know I need rest for my magic to regenerate, sleep refuses to come. Each new fear crashes against my skull like the breaking waves below. My ears stay tuned for the tinny clang of the alarm bells. For the rumble of hooves on the ground, searching for the king’s escaped prisoner. But Briar is quiet.
Once dawn begins to gild the whitecaps, the promised storm of the last night having done little more than grumble as it passed over Briar, I give up the bed and focus my energy on fixing the spinning wheel. It’s a lost cause. A large chunk of the flywheel is missing. There’s no belt. The footman is warped. And the maidens are crooked. But the impossible task gives my hands an outlet. By midmorning, I have the pieces mostly in the right places. I give the wheel a good spin, finding a strange sort of comfort in the way the spokes blur together. In the creaky, clacking sound it makes. Almost hypnotizing.
“Have you given any more thought to what I said?”