Page 58 of A Kingdom of Magic and Rain

He flinched. “Of course, I care. I⁠—”

“Stop,” I cut him off as I took a step back and folded my arms over my chest. “Whatever you’re about to say will be a lie. Just like the past two months have been a lie.”

“Did last night feel like a lie?” he asked low, staring at me intently.

His features blurred as tears filled my eyes. I chewed on my bottom lip to stop myself from crying. Last night felt like ages ago. Since then, my world had been turned upside down. I had been flung into an entirely different world. What Adrian and I had shared last night had felt real—the most real thing I had ever experienced—but it didn’t wash away the sticky residue of betrayal that clung to my skin and soured my throat.

“What happened after Thea had snatched me from the border?” I asked instead of answering his question. “My father…is he…”

“He lives,” Adrian said, and potent relief swept through me, nearly knocking me off my feet. “The arrow hit his shoulder. Tom and I left the border shortly after you and Thea had, but as far as I know, no one else got hurt.”

“Not yet anyway,” I said bitterly. “Your father wants me to bring down the wards because he plans to invade Emeraldia, doesn’t he?”

The question hung between us, straining the air and choking me with dread.

Adrian’s jaw tightened as he held my gaze. The shadows churning in his eyes deepened.

“Yes,” he finally said in a voice dripping with sorrow. “Aubrielle is bound to the royal bloodline. My father is the most powerful Fae, but he has to release the excess magic flowing through his veins into the land.”

“And the Fae kingdom is dying because of it. Thea told me.”

He nodded. “My father believes that if the ancient magic is dispersed over more land, it will be less destructive.”

“His reasoning makes sense,” I admitted. “But invading Emeraldia will only delay the inevitable, not grant a permanent solution. Eventually, our land will succumb to the ancient magic like your kingdom has.”

“I know,” he said in a hollow voice.

“So you are willing to wage a war and sacrifice countless lives just to buy your kingdom some time?”

He stared at me silently for several long minutes. Deep exhaustion tautened his features as his shoulders slumped. He wasn’t the king, but the burden of ensuring his kingdom’s survival sat on his shoulders, nonetheless. I knew the feeling well. I had been carrying my own weight since I had discovered that my realm was in peril. If only our lives were different. For a split second, I wished that we were simply Emelin and Adrian, without the royal titles attached to our names. But that was not our reality.

“You have been hiding in plain sight, weakening the wards to allow your father to invade my kingdom,” I went on to establish the truth for myself—for both of us. Speaking the words aloud made his betrayal real and tangible.

His chest heaved with a rough exhale. Dark lashes shielded his eyes as he cast his gaze down to the ground.

“I did what I had to do. I had to choose between a foreign kingdom and my people, and I chose my people.” He swallowed before meeting my gaze again. “The choice has become increasingly difficult to make since the day I met you.”

My heart turned over in my chest. I felt conflicted as I stared at him. The urge to reach for him rose, but I fought it, digging my fingers into the flesh of my folded arms. He didn’t deserve my pity, and he didn’t deserve me. A part of me understood the motivation behind his actions, but I couldn’t excuse them. Not when it was my kingdom on the line.

“I’m tired,” was all I said.

“Follow me.” He turned and resumed walking.

“Where are we going?” I fell in step next to him.

“My private quarters.”

I nodded, swallowing to relieve the tightness in my throat. The thought of staying with him didn’t bring me comfort, but I would take that over being thrown in a dungeon. I was anxious to know his plan after we had arrived in his chambers, but I knew better than to ask the question aloud in front of the guards in navy-and-silver regalia lining the hall.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, passing by rows of tall, large windows draped in heavy navy curtains, which were all drawn, not letting in even a sliver of light.

“To keep the temperatures from rising inside the castle,” Adrian explained, following my gaze. “We’re almost there.”

When we rounded yet another corner, my eyes widened as I stopped abruptly before a large portrait on one of the gray walls. I stared at a depiction of Adrian, except he looked older, with fine lines creasing the skin around his silver eyes and taut mouth. His long dark hair fell past his broad shoulders, and a crown of silver spikes sat atop his head.

“It’s you from my dreams,” I said, studying the portrait.

Adrian halted beside me. “No, that’s King Oberon, my grandfather.”