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Precisely. It is a burden, for sure. Nevertheless, it is how we are. We trust one another with the truth even when it’s uncomfortable., for the secrets we keep can become weapons in the hands of our enemies.

“What if the truth is a weapon in my hands!” I snapped, looking at him. My eyes were now stinging as I fought back my anger, my frustration, and my tears. “I did not want any of this. I was fine in my little apartment, in my little city. I wasn’t hurt, and I wasn’t hurting anyone. No one was after me, and I knew who I was. I was fine!”

“Druella, speak to me. What is the matter?” Theseus asked, gently reaching for my hand, but I flinched, moving away and shaking my head.

If you will not speak the truth, I shall, Sigbjørn’s voice stated in my mind.

I just looked to him, wanting him to give me a break and seeing that he wouldn’t. His face was harsher now than in the past.

Do you not trust him? Do you wish for him to hear from his father, in front of his whole family, that his long-awaited mate betrayed him—

“I did not!” I hollered, and the library shook so hard that a few books fell from the table and the shelves around us.

Again, I froze, everyone shocked except for Sigbjørn and me.

“Father, I beg of you”—Theseus turned to him—“have these conversations aloud.”

“For the sake of my library, at least,” Hinrik muttered, looking over his fallen books with concern.

“I have said all that needs to be said to her,” he replied, his gaze now fixed.

Theseus sighed, frustrated at this. “I do not understand what is happening.”

“Oh, goodie, and here I thought it was just me,” Atarah stated. When she caught almost all of our attention at her poorly timed sarcasm, she shrugged. “I wished to break the tension, but I see I have failed. So, I shall be silent again.”

“No, you did well.” Arsiein smiled at her.

“You would say she did well if she belched between every word,” Hinrik stated, causing Ulrik to laugh and what a laugh, his whole chest moving with it.

“Must you be so loud?” Melora grimaced, plugging her ears with her finger, but Ulrik tried to pull her hand away to laugh in her ear.

As they laughed and joked, my shoulders relaxed a bit, not entirely, though, because of Theseus, who watched me with a pained expression on his face. Even when I was trying not to cause him pain, I still caused him pain.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words were heavy, and I hung back. “I went back in time, Theseus, because I bu

rned the grimoire.”

“You burned it?” he questioned.

I nodded, messing with my hair a bit.

“Why did you burn it?” he pressed.

Forget it.

I would just tell him.

I’ll rip the bandage off.

After taking a breath I didn’t need, I met his gaze again. “I burned it because I was mad and frustrated…and…and worried about you.”

“About me?”

“Yes!” I snapped. “When I touched the grimoire, it said my name was Druella Zirie Omeron. There was a spell in it, and when I said it, you shone, then you were in pain, but you said your memories were coming back. Before you collapsed, y-you said… You said I took your memories and that I killed you. And I…” I shook my head over and over again, the tears I was holding back finally coming forward. “I don’t remember what I did or why, but I hurt you, and I’m so sorry.”

I was so happy my heart was dead because I was sure it would be pounding. I wanted to run far away—

“Why do you look so pained? There is a reasonable explanation, I am sure.”

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