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It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
I wrap my arms around her, finally able to touch her with zero guilt. I run my fingers down her back, relishing every inch I’m allowed to caress. As I bury my face by her neck, I kiss her sensitive skin along her artery, moving up to her jaw before latching my lips with hers.
I kiss her once. Twice. Then I lose count.
I don’t have to keep track of kisses like each one is an indiscretion.
And it’s wonderful.
Although our watches haven’t been working since before we first completed the bond, I’ve felt the seconds going by. Every singletickhas been like a mallet chipping away at Hannah’s life.
I’ve gotten so used to feeling like time is against us, but now it’s not.
We really can escape the bargain.
If I’m being honest with myself, I hadn’t been one hundred percent sure traveling to the alternate universe would fix her. The theory was always a desperate solution, but it was the only chance we had, so I ran with it.
Now I know for certain, if we go to the reality Number Two created, Hannah will survive.
“Ackealenvyos refused the princess, just as you wanted,” I speak to Envy while running my hands through Hannah’s healthy hair. “That means the bargain has been successfully derailed. You have your new world, and Hannah is the proof.”
“Yes,” Envy agrees, studying her. “You do look much less ugly without those dark circles under your eyes.”
Oh, how I want to hurt this man. A part of me hopes he’ll refuse to give me my flask again, just so I have a reason to inflict him with a cruel and unusual punishment.
Before I can demand what belongs to me for the final time, the loud trumpets blow out a tune.
It’s the announcement song. The princess has arrived.
She’s at the top of the steps, waving and smiling graciously. Her waist-length, white-blond hair is half up, and a crown of white flowers sits on her head. Her red lips match her red dress. A bold choice in a realm where lighter fabrics are often favored.
Among the crowd, I hear whispers about how fitting the color of blood is for this occasion.
As she descends the stairs, it’s obvious how loved she is. Everyone expresses their admiration. Some shout compliments and throw roses in her direction. Others clap with glee at being so close to the royals.
Princess Vetta plays to her admirers, blowing kisses and giving out smiles, but there’s tension on her face when she makes it to the seat next to her father. Her eyes don’t match the happy expression she wears.
When she leans toward her father, she begins whispering something to him.
They’re too far away for me to hear, especially over the chatter of the crowd.
Opening a small vortex behind my head, I try to pull their sound my way. I envision a small tunnel from their mouths to my ears.
Realizing what I’m doing, Hannah leans closer to me.
The suction causes some unnatural wind, and several people in the rows ahead of us glance around with confusion. Fortunately, they have no idea what’s happening, and I quickly catch snippets of the conversation between the princess and the king.
“He refused,” she says.
“Why?”
“He was acting strange. Giving me non-answers.”
“So he might try to kill me.”
“I begged him not to.” Her voice is strained with emotion. “I tried, Papa. I offered him everything, and he still wouldn’t agree. Mihkyle will have mercy on you, so let’s hope he wins.”
“Don’t fret, my dear.” He pats her hand. “Fate will decide the outcome today.”
