Page 133 of A Song of Spells & Sorrow
There was a note of bitterness in the prince’s words.
A pause of silence passed between them before Knox answered. “I wouldn’t have thought I’d find a prince out here, alone.”
Prince Gilbert sighed, his eyes casting up to the moon once more. His skin shone under its light, as if he himself were some fallen celestial body, as if he too belonged among the stars.
“Do you think that a person can ever be known for who they are whenwhat they areseems to eclipse everything else?”
His question resonated through him like a bolt of lightning. At once there was a part of him that wanted to compare them, their situations, but Knox pushed it away. They couldn’t be any more different, and it was important that he not forget it. The prince was lamenting being too renowned, beloved, to be known as himself. Whereas, if people knew the truth about him, they would call for his head.
Knox scowled up at the moon and drank his wine, a bitter toast. “No.”
The prince turned to him with wide eyes, clearly not expecting that answer. Could there have been a flicker of hurt within them? Perhaps a kinder person would have lied.
“What you are is a part of you,” Knox explained, eyes locked on the night sky, knowing he should look away. At any moment, the prince could look at him and see the truth in his eyes. But his gaze was fixed by some powerful challenge. “You cannot be known apart from it becausewhat you arehas shaped you into who you are now.”
A long and thoughtful silence passed between them.
“And what are you?” the prince asked.
His words broke the moon’s spell, and Knox backed down, casting his eyes to the distant trees. Still, his question prickled down his spine, filled his mouth with bitterness. Knox tried to wash the taste away with the wine, but it was not enough.
He looked to the prince, clever and beautiful, powerful and loved, and he told him the truth. “A monster.”
All the warmth washed from his face as confusion, perhaps even pity or fear, colored his features.
Knox turned away. The night air no longer eased him. The prince’s words had left him exposed in ways he never could have predicted. The winter breeze turned harsher, blowing straight to his core. In the quiet there was no peace. All he could feel was the beast within him stirring against the prison of his own will.
Gilbert said nothing as Knox retreated back toward the castle.
He was a monster. Whatever innocence may have existed within him had been swallowed by the curse, by that night that had taken everything from him, reformed him into someone else entirely. Someone who deserved to be alone.
