Page 66 of Prince of the Sun

But he isn’t a stranger,whispers a voice in my head.In some ways, he’s the only one who’s ever truly known who you are.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says at last, voice soft. I still don’t look at him. I can’t. “I’m really grateful that you did. But to be completely honest…” He pauses. “I already knew.”

At that, my head finally snaps up to look at him. “Youwhat?”

“Well, noteverything, of course. None of the specifics of your story. But the fact that you struggle with eating, or at least had done so at one point in your life?” He nodded. “That, I already knew.”

I shake my head, bewildered. “Buthow?”

“It was your plate, the day we sat next to you at lunch. The low-calorie food covered in low-calorie flavor? I recognized it right away.” He smiles, but his eyes are sad. “Why do you think I feed you every chance I get? The vaaska. The honey cakes. The donuts.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to put it all together.

Now that he says it, I feel like a fool for not noticing it sooner.

My breath becomes shallow. Not from attraction, this time, but from something else. A feeling I can’t name. It’s like something huge and fundamental has shifted inside my chest—a tower collapsing in on itself, or a mountain slowly rumbling aside to make room for a valley.

Daerios reaches out and takes one of my hands. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says softly. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

Actually, it was,I think.Sharing myself with you is theeasiest thing in the world.

“And I’m really sorry about your father,” he says. “Did they ever catch the person who did it?”

I shake my head.Which is true.

“I’m so sorry.” He looks into the fire, thumb tracing absentminded circles on my hand. “At least with Uian, we knew who to blame. In some strange way, that helps.”

I do know who to blame, of course. Him. His kind. All the elves who invaded our planet and preached peace and acted otherwise.

But that’s not true, is it? The elves who murdered my father and took my brother—they looked nothing like Daerios. Nothing other than the height and pointed ears, anyway. They were ghost-pale, with stringy black hair, and clawed nails, and—

Holy shit.

It’s then that I see it. It’s then that the pieces fall together.

Zolaë Aldar.

“Daerios,” I say, voice an octave higher. “Daerios. Are you sure there are no Shadow Elves on Earth?”

He tilts his head. “Fairly certain. Why?”

Shit. I shouldn’t have asked him that question. Shouldn’t have even brought up the Shadow Elves. It could clue him in to the fact that I’ve figured out their code—or am well on my way to doing so. Shit.

“Just—” I swallow. “Thinking about your brother.”Lie. How appropriate that, for every truth I share with him, I must also share a lie.

“I see.” He doesn’t seem to believe me, but he doesn’t press.

I need to distract him. I scoot closer. Close enough for my folded knee to touch his thigh. His eyes dart down, then back up to mine. They withdraw, as if he knows what I’m doing.

Shit, shit,shit.

His grip loosens on my hand. I slouch back into the couch,twisting my neck to look out the panoramic windows. By now, night has swaddled Spot Pond in darkness. Rain beats the glass like soft, melted stones.

“Did you feel like that even before Uian?” I ask. “Like the pieces of you don’t connect?”

Daerios is quiet for so long I think he won’t respond. Then, he says, “Yes.”

I nod, still not looking back at him. “I’m sorry.”

We fall silent again. I try to count the raindrops as they hit the window.1, 2, 3, 4567…They come so fast and close together that I cannot.