“No. But it haunts me, thinking of what might’ve been. How our lives could’ve been different. We could’ve been happy together.”
“Or you could’ve been dead,” Ethan said. “There are no promises in life.”
“I’ve said what I needed to my father. He knows how I feel, and he knows I forgive him,” I said. “But I have to forgive my mother, too, and my grandparents, for keeping this a secret. And I think I can. But from what I’ve learned, forgiveness takes time. It’s not something you can just decide to do. You canchooseforgiveness, but if you don’t feel it in your heart, it means nothing. Only time can mend that wound. And as much as I want to forgive, I don’t think I can, not at the moment. I can’t force myself to feel a way that I really don’t, inside. I can still love them besides, and not punish them for what they did. And maybe someday, I’ll find a way to let that resentment go. Just not yet.”
“Do you think something they could do would change that?”
“No. I just need to be ready. I have to accept that we could’ve never had that life together, no matter how badly I wanted it. It’s like skating, in a way. I had to accept that dream was gone, and wasn’t coming back. How much I wanted it had no effect on the outcome, in the end.”
“It’s a sad truth of life, but wanting something doesn’t mean it’ll come to you, no matter how badly you desire it.”
“I know. Life is so complicated. It would be easier to endure if I knew the answers, and knew what to do, even if the path ahead was hard. But I don’t knowwhatto do anymore, Ethan. The only way forward is to just keep going.”
“Now that you’ve had some time to experience it, do you think you made the right decision, deciding to become my queen?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “I’ve come into my own as a ruler. I still miss my old life, but I don’t want to be reminded of it anymore. I’ve let that go. I had to, in order to become a new person. What about you?”
“I am glad I am king. Though my cousin was right. It is a much harder endeavor than I ever imagined it to be.”
Ethan remained silent for a moment, and I said, “Do you still hold yourself responsible for Elijah’s death?”
“I harbor some guilt, though we both know it was a necessary evil. I do not think that I took him seriously when he told me how hard being a monarch was— the weight that is on your shoulders. I think he couldn’t take the pressure. There was a darkness inside of him he couldn’t escape, and it ate him alive, in the end.”
“Do you think there’s a darkness inside of you, too?” His voice betrayed as much.
“I know there is. And yet, I am not afraid of it. The heaviness of the crown is a hard burden to bear, but I know I can last underneath it. I think Elijah was afraid of letting everyone down, despite how desperately he tried to hide it. He was afraid of becoming a failure. I am not. I have failed time and time again, and I’ve learned that you can always work your way back from your mistakes. Whatever the country demands of me, I feel ready for it.”
“I’m not so sure that’s true.” I was hinting at what we both had been avoiding, because at this moment, it felt so stifling. I wasn’t sure if we could ignore it any longer.
Ethan mused quietly and said, “Do you remember our time duringShotzanek?”
“Yes. Luka’s holiday, the day of romance.” It’d been a fun day, one of our last before the Battle of Arcanea University, and before we’d become monarchs. It seemed like forever ago.
“What did you wish for, when you slipped that piece of paper into Luka’s wall?”
I didn’t have to remember. “For a long and happy life with you.”
“That seems very mundane.”
“It’s not, because I don’t know if I’ll get that chance.”
Ethan’s eyebrows crinkled. “Why do you say that, Emma? You know it hurts me so.”
“Because it’s reality, and I don’t think either of us are willing to face it,” I said. “But we can’t keep running from my fate forever. There is a possibility I could die before Malovia knows peace, and if we’re talking about having kids, we need to decidenow. I won’t be able to conceive and birth a child in the short time I have left unless we get on it. I deserve some time with my baby… before the end.”
“I will not accept it,” Ethan said firmly. “We will find a way around the prophecy.”
“There’s more than the prophecy at stake,” I said. I kept my voice even, but I was getting frustrated. “I’m ill, Ethan. You know that. It’s something we have to accept.”
“I can accept your illness, but not your death,” Ethan insisted. “How can you ask me to let you go? Even if your disease progresses, we’ll find a new treatment, a new way.”
“Because it’s not fair to ask me to keep fighting if I don’t want to, especially if our country is at stake,” I pointed out. “I have the entire nation to think about. But I also have to consider myself, and what’s best for my own mental well-being. Part of that isn’t having to worry if you’re going to fall apart after I’m gone.”
Ethan’s eyes were starting to glisten. “You’re just so full of life. Sometimes, I don’t even remember that you’re ill.”
“Then that’s a blessing,” I said. “Ethan, you get time to forget, but I don’t. To you, this disease is a part of me, only one small piece, but to me, this is a pervading part of my life. I never get to turn away from it, never get to turn it off. I can’t forget, because every second of my existence, I’m reminded of what I have inside of me and what I have to fight. I’m reminded of my limitations every time I take a step, or inhale a breath, or think about what moment I’m going to live next. I can’t walk down the stairs without considering what would happen if I fainted and fell down them, or miss an hour of sleep without wondering if it’s going to make me ill in the morning. That forgetting, it’s a luxury I can’t afford to have. So be grateful that you get to cherish that.”
The ice cave was starting to grow dark. I heard Ethan’s voice tremble as he said, “I was separated once from you before. Do not ask me to do it again.”
