Page 163 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

Would I have told him too that I used to blame him for what happened? That maybe, deep down, I still blamed him, even though I knew it held no grounds anymore. That little voice was just fucking hard to argue against. The wicked one that told me if Kieran hadn’t left, I never would have landed in the sights of a predator. The same voice telling me I never would have pursued a line of work like that—been so desperate to get away from the fortress—if he had still been around.

Even now, knowing he hadn’t left of his own accord, I couldn’t shake the association. Maybe most foolishly of all was how I’d believed I could somehow exist in his presence and not have these agonizing memories come back to rear their unwelcome heads. How I’d thought the bliss of the time I spent in his bed, tangled in his arms, would give way to anything but my heart being decimated all over again.

My head rolled back against the cabinets on a shaky breath that rolled into a sob.

ODESSAN WHORE.

HALF-BREED BASTARD.

36

THE THINGS WE SHOULD HAVE SAID

ENORA

What an awful night. By the time I’d peeled myself off the bathroom floor to wash up, my bath had lost most of its warmth, and I knocked my only remaining towel into the water as I tried to climb in.

A truly appropriate end to a day I’d wished had never happened. When I’d finally dried off enough to get dressed and crawl into bed, sleep pulled me under with brutal swiftness. My body needed it after all; I just wished someone had told Eilir that.

The sprite woke me up three damned times. First, they weren’t sure if I was breathing or not. Then, to force-feed me those bland, nutrient-dense biscuits they loved to make. The third was to check again if I was still breathing.

They were even more jumpy than usual, talking and zipping around like their little wooden ass was on fire.

I didn’t have it in me to inquire why, and when they asked if I would be okay on my own for the rest of the night, I gladly sent the sprite on their way.

Sleep came in fitful bursts after that and left me with little else to do than think about what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

All that my tense encounter with Jasper had proven was how unfit I was to carry on like everything was fine, to pretend that soul-crushing secrets could exist in the unfathomable production that was my life now, sinking their festering claws into me and both the men I’d found myself tethered to.

Maksym was right all those weeks ago when he said we needed honesty.

I just hadn’t wanted to believe him then. Not when honesty meant grappling with things I had spent so many years laying to rest—not in any productive way. Things I’d been able to sweep under the proverbial rug in Odessa and pretend they hadn’t left gaping wounds in me that I filled with drinks and parties and friends.

The King of Odessa, after all, did not let slights to his little girl go unanswered.

Even though I never personally told my father what truly happened, the general who raped me was assigned to a dignitary post across the Chasm a few months after the incident. And that was after years of chancellors and merchants being shuffled into various exiles when their distaste for my father’s indiscretion became public knowledge.

But those displays of power, as well-intended as they were, did not heal wounds. Not when there was always someone else waiting to gouge into me again.

And now, my wounds were gaping wide open again.

I had to talk to Maksym first.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to tell him everything, but I had to extend back the branch he kept trying to hold me afloat with, even just a little.

A bit of distance might be prudent too.

Not from him, or any one person directly, but from the Keep in general. I could stay in Embervale, maybe, at least until the Agōn Ferr was over, and hunt for a sliver of peace there.

Whether Maksym would actually entertain that was another thing entirely, especially once I broached my first topic with him—Jasper.

That alone had left me with an immense amount of nausea to grapple with as I tried to make myself presentable well after the sun had poured itself through my open curtains and then lost its fight to brutal rain clouds that rolled in over the horizon.

It felt oh so fitting that the sky let out a thunderous roar just as I finished pulling my boots on, and I steeled myself to seek my groom.

I stood at my door for a few moments too long, taking slow breaths in and out, before I set my hand on the handle and finally hauled it open.

Like the bursting of a dam, a wave of sound nearly knocked me clean off my feet.