Page 12 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

He tenses his jaw and then shakes his head, releasing a tormented sigh.

“I can’t tell you,” he says. “Not without suffering a great deal.”

He means it. I have no reason to doubt that. And of course I can’t keep pushing for answers, not if it hurts him this much. I feel scooped out, hollow, as I realize what this means. I’m never going to be able to get answers. Without answers, I’ll never be able to trust him again. And without trust…our relationship is over. This, I walked away for. This, I shattered my heart for, and I won’t ever even get to know what it was.

“So that’s it, then,” I say, my voice dull and flat, my shoulders slumping. I feel utterly defeated.

Ruskin takes a step towards me and I see his palm open, then ball into a fist.

“All I can say, Eleanor, is that it’s not what you think.”

“You don’t know what I think,” I say, my voice hard as stone. “You don’t know me.”

I don’t say the rest: that if he truly knew me, he would know that this, of all things, is a line in the sand that can’t be crossed. I can’t be with someone who would keep this from me.

For a second, a wild thought comes to me. He joked once about compelling me to give him answers. Yet I have his true name. Does that mean I could compel him? Then he wouldn’t be able to resist the question, no matter how much it cost him.

Even as I think it, I am repulsed by the notion. No matter how much I want to know an answer, I would never torture it out of someone. I am not like Cebba or Albrecht.

I’m not like Ruskin.

My mother took the healer’s oath to do no harm, and I wouldn’t be her daughter if I chose to cause someone pain just to satisfy my own needs. I want answers, but not at any cost.

I meet his piercing gaze, and when he speaks, his voice is quietly cutting.

“You’re right, Eleanor. When I discovered you were gone, it became evident that I didn’t know you at all.”

I’m not sure what he means by that, but I’m tired of asking him questions. I didn’t realize until this moment how hard I’ve been holding on to the idea that maybe he’d explain everything, and then we’d be happy again. What a fool I’ve been. That was never how this story was going to go.

He didn’t come to Styrland as some sort of grand gesture to win me back. He came because he wants something from me. All that’s left now is for me to tell him no, send him on his way…and then start figuring out how to put my broken life and shattered heart back together again.

“Tell me why you’re here, Ruskin. Stop wasting my time.”

He straightens, as if only now remembering himself, that his visit has a purpose—other than trading barbs with me. He clears his throat.

“I need your help, Eleanor.”

I scoff, even as I hide a sting of pain. He really isn’t interested in what’s been lost between us.

“Yes, obviously. But why should I care?”

“Lives are on the line. Might I remind you that I just saved yours?”

“Except we’re in Styrland, which means there’s no magically binding life debt to be repaid. So what’s your point?”

“The only point I should need is that you could help someone live, Eleanor.” His voice softens. “You, and only you. I thought that would be enough.”

I have to admit, he has me there. But then he knows just how to persuade me, doesn’t he? He’s done it many times before. I turn my back, pretending to look over the cottage, but really I’m just trying to escape his eyes. I need to clear my head, and I can’t do that when he’s staring at me.

“All right, I’ll bite,” I say. “Who is it I’d be saving?”

“My mother, Evanthe.”

I turn on my heel, too surprised to remember I’m trying to avoid his gaze.

“The High Queen? What happened?”

“Nothing—and nothing will happen.” For the first time, I see a glimmer of fear on his face. “I thought my High King powers would be enough to revive her once I was well again—once you broke the curse and cured me.”

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