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“I remember being there, Kirran,” she breathes.
“And I know you weren’t.” I bite back the rising pain. “So where does that leave us? We can’t both be right.”
“I…” She sniffles and ducks her head away, fumbling with her mother’s necklace like she’s done countless times before. “I don’t know. I don’t understand.”
I let my eyes close and focus on steadying the crashing in my chest. At least until she speaks.
“Okay.” She nods and tucks her hair behind her ears. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I…I wasthere. The king can vouch for me.”
“He said tonight that he’s never spoken to you. That he didn’t tell you anything.” I study her, then push away from the desk and stride closer. This time, she doesn’t jump, just watches me approach. “Did you or someone else overhear us talking? Did you conjure something up in your head? Imagine this whole —”
“No, I spoke to him. He — maybe he doesn’t remember —”
“Fey don’t lie, Alia.”
“I know, but I’m not lying either.”
“Did someone else tell you of the conversation? Another servant?”
“No. I spoke tohim.Your father. I promise.” Even as tears trickle down her cheeks, she holds my gaze. And forest curse it, my fingers itch to brush her pain away, draw her against me. Forget anything ever happened to shatter what we once had.
If she still loves me, then maybe we can just start over —
But I can’t let myself hook onto her words. That inadvertent admission. Who knows if she actually means it. And in trying to latch onto it, I’ll only maul myself. Carve out my own heart again.
Her feelings don’t matter. My feelings don’t matter. Truth is the only goal tonight.
And I hold more of it.
“Even if, somehow, we’re both right, you still left.” I try to keep any trace of a growl from my voice, but I’m not sure I manage it. “Without a word.”
Her eyes flash, defiance rushing back to the surface. “You had the final words. And they were cruel. Why would I stay here?”
My hands curl into fists. “I didnotreject you. You did notcome—”
“We’re going to go in circles.” She huffs. Her grip on her shawl relaxes, and she crosses her arms. “If you didn’t reject me, if you still…cared…then why didn’t you ever write to me? You had to know where I was.”
Alarm licks up my spine. I take another step closer. “I did.”
A second passes. Then her eyes lock on mine, and her lips part again. Her chin quivers once before she sets her jaw and releases a sharp breath. “You did what? You wrote back?”
“Back? No, I wrote you first. You never tried to contact…” My mind spins, and I grip the back of my neck, digging my nails in until pain flares. “So in your version of this, I never wrote to you? You never got any letters from me?”
Now her lips pucker, and she twists them to the side. “No.”
“I wrote to you.” My voice falters. Forest curse me, I can’t control it. Can’t make it stop breaking. “I — I sent two letters, separate times, and you…” The ache coils within me, and I strain to keep my words steady enough to keep going. To get it out. Make her understand. “I couldn’t keep writing, Alia. I had to — it was too much…torture. I had to try to let you go. I thought…”
Once more, she stares at me. Now like she doesn’t even know me. Maybe she’s never known me.
Then a shudder goes through her, and she presses a hand to her mouth. Her brow furrows. “I never got any letters from you, Kirran. I swear.”
“I never got any from you.”
“Then…” Her head tips down, and she buries her face against her palm. “What’s going on? How is any of this even possible?”
I watch her, taking in her dismay. This beautiful woman that I imagined marrying, loving and cherishing for the rest of my days, having and raising children with.
She had been everything.
