And it wasn’t just the royals. They behaved the same toward Veris and Naari — hell, even toward Kiva and Tipp. Everything about them promoted inclusivity, acceptance, and such a tender affection that Kiva felt as if a vise were squeezing her chest.
I’m tired of seeing good people suffer for a cause I’m not even sure I believe in.
Torell’s weary voice returned to Kiva, his statement resonating so strongly in her.
And then she heard Jaren’s voice.
You’re perfect, just as you are.
She wasn’t, though.
She was so far from perfect, and one day soon, he would know.
And he would hate her.
The thought left Kiva struggling to draw air into her lungs, but she made herself continue to smile as he and his family went out of their way to make sure she and Tipp felt included.
Kiva had never hated herself more than she did that night — and she knew the feeling wasn’t going to leave her anytime soon.
Perhaps never.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Unsurprisingly, Kiva couldn’t sleep that night.
After dinner ended, she tossed and turned in bed, guilt and shame keeping her awake until she finally donned a silk robe and left her room.
Given that it was the dead of the night, Kiva didn’t see anyone as she ventured along the gold-and-white corridors, and she didn’t expect that to change when she reached her destination. But upon entering the River Room, she found she wasn’t alone.
Jaren stood beside the window-wall, looking out over the Serin River, blissfully unaware of her presence.
Wearing only loose-fitting long pants, the low light revealed the scars marring his back, all of which Kiva had seen before, many times. Only two nights earlier she’d felt them beneath her hands as he’d comforted her in bed. But looking at them now, pain lanced through her, the thought of anyone hurting Jaren — the Butcher, his mother, anyone — causing her both physical and emotional distress.
Wars aren’t won without sacrifice, little sister.
Zuleeka’s harsh words blazed across Kiva’s memory.
It’s him or us. Them or us. You can’t have it both ways.
Kiva closed her eyes, certain of only one thing: she was going to hurt Jaren. She would be the reason something horrible happened to him. And she — And she —
She couldn’t let that happen.
But she also couldn’t stop it.
Staring at him, Kiva felt like she was being ripped in two. On one side was her dedication to her family and their cause. And on the other —
Was Jaren.
But also Caldon.
And Naari.
Young Oriel and Flox.
Even Princess Mirryn and Queen Ariana and King Stellan.
The whole Vallentis family.
Captain Veris, Kiva wasn’t yet sure about, but despite him being there the night her family was destroyed, it wasn’t his sword that had killed her brother. She still remembered his growled words: This wasn’t meant to happen. This never should have happened.
Without her permission, these people had worked their way into her heart, forcing her to see them not as royals and guards, but as human beings. As a family.
For ten years, all she’d wanted was to ruin the family that had ruined hers. But now that she knew them . . .
I’m tired of seeing good people suffer for a cause I’m not even sure I believe in.
Torell’s words were going to haunt her, she was sure of it.
Unable to withstand her troubled heart, Kiva backed away silently, not wanting to disturb Jaren and risk whatever new kindness he would offer, her very own form of torture. But some sixth sense made him look over his shoulder, his body stilling as he caught sight of her, before relaxing again.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, leaving the window-wall and walking her way.
“Looks like I’m not the only one,” Kiva returned, her voice hoarse with all she was feeling.
“Come sit with me for a bit?” Jaren asked, nodding to the plush lounge. “I could use the company.”
Peering at him closely, Kiva could see he wasn’t lying. The earlier strain had returned to his features, a deep weariness mixed liberally with unease.
You can get to him in a way no one else can, learn things about him, about his plans, about where he’s most vulnerable.
Zuleeka’s words from days ago returned to Kiva, her inner turmoil growing because she knew what she needed to do.
Moving slowly over to him, she sat on the far edge of the couch and prompted, “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
She’d left him plenty of room, but when Jaren sighed loudly and took a seat beside her, he was close enough for their arms to brush.