Eva rounds on him, hands on her hips. “If you think you get to escape this unscathed while Ray is banished?—”
Mael takes a step back, shaking his head. “Eva?—”
“You caused this,” she snaps. “You can fix it.”
He lets out a slow breath, his throat working as if swallowing something bitter. His hands flex at his sides. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at me. “We could never make it work.”
My eyes begin to burn at the statement.
It.
It, as in my ruined life.
It, as in a marriage to the very man who plied me with wine and kissed me when I was too drunk to stop him.
It, as in a loveless future, one where I’d be forced to watch the man I love choosing someone else. Crown someone else. Bear children with someone else.
I squeeze my eyes shut, as if that alone might erase the thoughts. But a tremble rises anyway, low and relentless, reverberating through my bones and into every inch of my exhausted body.
Eva crosses her arms. “You might not have a choice.”
Silence.
Mael exhales sharply, and I open my eyes to watch him drag ahand down his face. He pivots on his heel, paces once, and then stops.
“You think Ryker will accept this?” His voice is lower now, almost dangerous. “You think I can just—” He gestures between us. His jaw clenches. “This isn’t some minor gossip, Eva. This is a scandal. Betrayal.”
“And sending Raylane to Rust Hollow isn’t?” Eva fires back.
His gaze flicks to me. Then, away again.
I hold my breath.
For a moment, I think he’s going to refuse. That he’ll say no, I won’t do it. That he’ll let me be cast aside like every other woman before me.
Then slowly, as if dragging the words from some deep, unwilling part of himself, he speaks. “You’re right.” His voice is rough. Not sharp. Not resigned. Just… exhausted.
He turns back, shoulders squared, spine rigid with the weight of it. “We made a mistake together,” he says at last. “We’ll face the consequences together.”
The words shock me almost as much as my curse itself.
This is Mael. Reckless, selfish, vehemently opposed to duty. He’s always vowed never to be shackled by marriage, never to surrender his freedom, and he has an even longer history of making messes and walking away from them without another thought.
I try to picture a life at his side. But all I see is Ryker. Ryker, who should have been mine.
Eva grips my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. “There’s no choice, Ray. And there’s no time to decide either.” Her voice is lower now, more dangerous. “It’s this, or Rust Hollow.”
A shudder rips through me.
I try to imagine myself there, standing in the dust-choked streets, bones pressing against my skin from weeks without enough food, the weight of exile settling into the hollow of my chest. I wonder how long it would take before I broke.
Because I know I would. Everyone does.
First they try to bear it, then they try to run. Everyone knows what comes next. Thirty lashes. A lesson etched into a sinner’s skin, and a broken body left to rot back in the Rust Hollow.
Is that what my mother felt before they dragged her away to that wretched place? The same rising panic, the same bone-deep certainty that there’s no way out?
Was she afraid, like I am now? Or was she brave, so sure she’d survive it all?
