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At last, they came to the final cell in the row, and Elma bit back a small gasp that might have been a sob. Rune was hunched in the corner of his cell, hair falling over his face, his head hanging in defeat. The tang of blood, sweat, and misery assaulted Elma’s nose. She couldn’t see in the light, but Rune was undoubtedly covered in bruises and abrasions. Godwin would have seen to that.
“May I speak with him alone?” Elma asked. The guard narrowed his eyes, but handed her the torch and moved a slight distance away. She was certain he would still hear, but at least she could pretend to be alone with Rune.
At the sound of her voice, Rune stirred. He lifted his head, squinting in the torchlight. At the sight of Elma, his bruised face split into a wavering grin. “There you are,” he rasped.
“Rune,” Elma said, her voice breaking. “What has he done to you?”
“Nothing I haven’t endured before.”
Elma’s heart fell and shattered, scattering like ash on the Frozen Sea. “You’re going to the arena tomorrow,” she said, biting out the words. Her knees felt weak, and she put out a hand to brace herself on the cell bars. She wanted to say something deep and true, something that put her heart into words. But it all clung like a sob to the base of her throat.
“I figured as much,” said Rune. “They’ve been roughing me up all day. I’m sure Godwin will stick me in the kidney right before the first fight, just to make sure.”
“Don’t say that,” Elma said, words tumbling out like desperation. “You can still—”
“What,” Rune cut her off. “Win?” He snorted dismissively. “There is no winning. I could use Rime Ice to defeat every last one of your arena’s heroes, and your uncle would simply put an arrow between my eyes.”
Elma knew he was right. “He’ll force me to watch,” she said. “He will make me watch you die, and then he’ll have me executed in front of the city.”
“You sound resigned,” Rune said. He got slowly to his feet, flinching as he did, and came to lean on the bars. They were only inches apart, but it felt like leagues and leagues.
“Of course I am,” murmured Elma.
“One thing I’ve never seen in you is resignation.” Rune curled his fingers over hers, and they were dry, cracked, and caked in blood and dirt. Elma had never felt anything so comforting. “You’re still a queen,” he said, holding her gaze, his eyes bright and rimmed in red.
Elma swallowed hard, the tears at the corners of her eyes, all the words of love, held just below the surface. “They willstrip it from me before the end. Every humiliation will be mine to endure.”
With a soft clang, Rune let his head fall against the bars. “You would have been a good queen,” he said. “The best kind of queen. You love your people. My mother saw it in you, just as I do. We could have had peace.”
Tears began to stream down Elma’s face. She hadn’t wanted to cry. What message would it send? But there was no one left to see it or to care. A soft sob escaped her. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “My trust in the wrong people has doomed us both.”
“You saved me,” Rune breathed, kissing her knuckles. “I should have died in the arena, all those weeks ago.”
“It was selfishness,” she protested, the words muffled by her tears.
“I don’t believe it was,” he said. His gaze caught hers, his eyes clear even in the face of death. “You’re afraid of your compassion. It never fit within the bounds of what your father expected, what you learned. I think your mothers would have saved me, too.” He smiled. “And I am honored to die as your weapon.”
Elma sobbed, a wracking sound, so small in the echoing black dungeon. “I don’t hate you,” she managed. “I never did.”
Rune huffed a sad little laugh. “You never fooled me for a second.”
Then he kissed her through the bars, soft and quiet. And while only their fingers and their lips touched, Elma ached and burned for him like a sun. Her fingers were stars in the night, his mouth a beacon of homecoming.
“None of that!” came the guard’s sudden bark. He wrenched Elma away from the cell, away from Rune. “Time to go,Your Majesty.”
Elma wanted to tell him. Her heart ached to say it.I love you, I love you, I love you.
“I’ll see you,” she said instead, drinking in that last sight of him, his wan smile, the curl of sweaty hair at his ears, the cocky tilt of his head, even now. “I’ll see you in the after.”
He raised one hand in farewell. “In the after.”
Thirty-Eight
That night, Elma was stripped of her crown with little ceremony. She was taken to the throne room, perhaps for the sake of tradition, since she wasn’t allowed to sit on the throne, nor was anyone present but her advisors. Godwin had drawn up a document that outlined her offenses, which he read out one by one in a ringing voice.
Treachery against the crown, fraternization with the enemy, collusion against Rothen.The list went on and on.
Listening from where she stood in the center of the great room, Elma allowed her mind to wander. She thought about Lothyn and Orchard House. Was the sun shining there? Perhaps a warm breeze danced through thick green leaves. With any luck, the winds were blowing harshly to the southeast, and her mothers wouldn’t hear about her disgrace, or her death, for quite some time.
