Kiva was breathing heavily, unsure why Mirryn was saying all this.
With a final hand squeeze, the princess released her and finished, “I know it’s hard, but if you can find it in your heart to forgive her, to remember that it’s the drug and not the user . . .” She trailed off, seemingly unable to finish.
But Kiva didn’t need her to say more, already aware of how addictions worked, and more familiar with angeldust than she would have liked. Too many of Zalindov’s inmates had relied on the drug, especially those who were assigned to the harder work allocations, like the tunnellers and quarriers. But their dependence only caused more problems in the long run, their addictions hard to shake, the withdrawal almost impossible to survive, especially in a prison environment. And the risk of overdose . . . So many of them had chosen a numbing death over a pain-filled life, a decision that had never failed to devastate Kiva, each and every time it happened.
“Anyway,” Mirryn said when Kiva remained silent for too long. “That’s enough seriousness. I just wanted you to be aware that she has no memory of what happened, and it’s best if we keep it that way.”
Kiva wondered how much of Jaren’s abuse had been kept hidden from the queen, whether she was even aware of what she’d done to him before he’d learned how to protect himself. Kiva was willing to bet Ariana had no idea, just as she was willing to bet that Jaren had taken all of her drug-addled cruelty in order that his siblings might be spared.
I thought she’d stopped, he’d said after his mother’s attack. She told me she’d stopped.
Would Ariana have stopped for real if she’d known about the damage she’d caused him? Or was she too reliant on the drug to give it up? It was difficult to know for sure — and that was perhaps why her children had kept the truth from her. Kiva wasn’t convinced she would have made the same decision, not if someone she loved was being hurt, but nevertheless she felt great compassion for the impossible situation they were in.
“I’ll make sure we choose the perfect mask to go with your dress,” Mirryn went on, acting as if their heavy conversation had never happened. “You’re going to look absolutely stunning — I can’t wait to see Jaren’s reaction.”
Heat flooded Kiva’s cheeks, and she quickly deflected, “What about you? Have you chosen your dress?”
“I have,” the princess confirmed, but instead of looking pleased, sadness touched her eyes. “It was a gift from my girlfriend, something she gave me before —” Mirryn broke off and looked away, quietly correcting, “Ex-girlfriend, now.”
“I’m sorry, Mirry,” Kiva said softly.
Just as softly, the princess said, “I really thought she was the one, you know?”
There was so much pain in her voice that Kiva nearly hugged her, but she resisted, unsure how it would be received. “Did she ever write back and explain why she wanted to break up?”
The princess nodded and shared, somewhat bitterly, “Her family got involved. They didn’t think we were a good match.”
Kiva stared. “Don’t they know who you are?”
“It’s because of who I am that they don’t approve,” Mirryn said. “Apparently they don’t want a princess in the family. Go figure.” Before Kiva could utter her shocked disbelief, Mirryn went on, her tone forcefully brighter, “There’s nothing to be done about it, but at least I did get a gorgeous gown to wear to my party. My ex always had such brilliant taste in clothes — wait until you see it, Kiva. Your dress is beautiful, but mine is spectacular.”
There was a desperate look in Mirryn’s eyes, as if she were begging Kiva not to ask anything else that might make her hurt more. But Kiva had no intention of doing so, not when the princess had shown her a rare kindness that day. Instead, she held her tongue as Mirryn went on to describe her dress, and then eventually bid her farewell.
Releasing an exhausted sigh as soon as she was alone, Kiva checked the time, and was dismayed to see that it was already well past noon. She immediately began panicking about everything she still had to do, before realizing she was fretting over nothing. Her trip out to Blackwater Bog shouldn’t take much time — assuming her grandmother didn’t have a midweek book club meeting — so she could allow herself a few minutes to relax.
But with Mirryn gone, Kiva’s earlier unease began to creep in again. What she really needed, she decided, was some normalcy. Too much of her time lately had been spent with royals; she desperately wanted to see another friendly face, someone who didn’t live in a palace.