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I sense her gaze following the movement, taking in the deep mahogany stains again. Shame swells, but I shove it aside before it can snare a hold. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of me.
Only the truth matters now.
“You’re telling me you spoke with my father before my birthday ball seven years ago? And he told you all those things you said earlier, about you being a conquest and practice and…”
I can’t finish it. But I don’t need to.
“Yes.”
“And then you — then I…did what?”
“Are you serious?” Another wave of disgust glints in her gaze. But this time, it comes with welling tears. “I can’t…believe you’re doing this.” Her whispered voice sharpens, and she pulls the shawl around her even more. “You rip me apart mere hours ago, then drag me out of bed in the middle of the night to just — to just what? Make me relive this?”
I blink. “Reliveit?”
She just stares at me. Like I’m the one who’s gone mad, blabbering nonsense.
Confusion hums in my chest with the pinch of a splinter, whispering that something’s wrong, out of place. I struggle to take a breath. “Fine. What did you wear? To this ball?”
“The dress you gave me. The brown dress.”
Another ripple of thatsomethingburns inside me, like a fraying thread tearing through my skin. I stalk closer toward her. She shrinks back the same distance I bridge but still glares.
The feistiness is somewhat new, though I’ve seen glimpses before.
“You were to be announced as my bride. Why would I give you abrowndress for that?”
“No, it wasn’t — it didn’t start off brown. I don’t remember what color it was originally, but it was definitely brown by the end.”
Again, something snags in my mind. I can’t fully catch my breath. Nor can I look away from her.
How could she forget that? Blue is her favorite color.
“I had to get to you, though, and — but then I saw your father first, and he…” Her expression crumbles, and she finally rips her gaze from mine. “He said those things. And I didn’t want to believe him, so I went to find you anyway. We spoke. You — you publicly rejected me. In front of hundreds of people.” A single tear trickles down her smooth cheek. She wipes it away at once. “Do you truly not remember what I was wearing? Do you not remember mocking me and…and…”
My throat strangles the air from me, but I force myself to speak past the block. “Alia, you nevercameto the ball.”
Her eyes go wide. “What?”
“You stood me up.” My voice barely scrapes out. “Humiliated me in front of my family and the members of the court who knew of you. They all knew I’d be presenting you as my chosen bride, and you never showed up. You promised you’d be there, and then you…broke that promise.”
“No. No, I —” She blinks once, twice, and shakes her head. “What?”
“And then I find out you actually left the day before? Without saying goodbye? Without…saying anything?” Heat stings the backs of my eyes, and I steel myself against it as much as I can. But the instant I continue, my control slips. She blurs before me. “Like I meant nothing. Like everything between us was just…nothing.”
“No,” she whispers. As if she says it enough, it will make it true. “No, I left after the ball. After you rejected me —”
“Alia —”
“No, Ineverwould’ve done that to you! I promise. I promise!” She inhales shakily and takes a step closer. “Kirran, Iwantedto marry you. I loved you. I still love —”
She freezes, lips parted. The room chills. Or maybe that’s just me. Prickles of something I can’t discern sweep over my skin and cool my blood. Cool that ache rippling through me.
It takes no wisdom to finish her sentence.
But I can’t.
I force myself to swallow, to wrench my gaze from hers. Lock it on the floor between us until I regain enough control to dare to look at her again. She stands with her fingers against her forehead, chin down, golden hair cascading over her shoulders and cheeks.
