Page 86 of The Realm That Falls to Her

“You mustn’t take the prophecy at face value,” he says.

“What is there to misunderstand?” I ask. “‘If they remain joined by the deepest bond, the very foundation of Seelie will be destroyed.’ That sounds pretty damn definitive to me!” My horse whinnies and shakes its head when I raise my voice, so I’m careful to murmur my next words so the rest of the group doesn’t hear.

“She said ‘one male and one woman, moon and sun’—that’s us Ruskin. Our true names prove it.”

He reaches out to steady my horse, drawing it close so he can look me squarely in the eyes.

“What our true names prove is that we’re destined to be together. That is far clearer to me than some hazy prophecy, which could be read any number of ways.”

I look away. I want so badly for him to convince me, to find some argument that hasn’t occurred to me yet. But I don’t think it’s possible.

“Clear to you, maybe, but not to me. I don’t know if I’m willing to stake an entire kingdom on the idea that fate wants us to be together, Rus.”

He lets go of my horse’s reins, a stormy look crossing his features.

“But you’re willing to give up on us because of an old prophecy translated by some crackpot? What is this really about, Eleanor? Because it feels like you’re looking for reasons to back away, and I’m asking myself why.”

“What? Of course I don’t want the prophecy to mean anything, but we can’t ignore it. Why would you even say that?”

“I’m not a fool. I know that you aren’t happy about the recent changes that have made you more fae. I’ve seen your fear. I know you, Ella. You cannot hide from me the fact that you’re still not sure you want this—centuries of life with me.”

I gape at him, feeling tears prick my eyes…because he’s right, and I hate that I haven’t been able to keep this from him. Right now, I can see the pain flickering in his gaze, and it feels like a stab to my own chest. It kills me that he might think I don’t love him enough, don’t want him enough, to spend endless years with him when he’s already written into every facet of my being.

“It’s not like that, Rus,” I say, begging him to understand. “But we come from very different worlds. Faerie is so different from Styrland, and I still don’t know what my place in it all is supposed to be.”

His face softens a little. “Your place is with me, by my side,” he says, like that should solve everything.

“Yes, and that feels right, but what about me? What about who I am as an individual? Faerie is changing me, and I don’t like all of the changes. I don’t want it to turn me into someone brutal or unfeeling. It’s hard for me to…” I look for a way to describe what I mean. “To accept how close the darkness dances to the light. I don’t know if I want to accept it, at least for myself.”

Ruskin stares ahead, thinking. “Is that how you see me? Darkness close to the light? Or perhaps you think I swallow up the light?” He turns to me, and I know I can’t lie under his piercing gaze. More than that, I want to be honest with him. I’ve been carrying this around with me for too long, worrying I’d hurt him if I spoke the truth. I should have known he’d see it all anyway.

“I love all of you, Ruskin, and I accept that you’ve made choices I don’t agree with. But…” I search around for the words.

“But sometimes you fear you will discover something about me you cannot see past,” he finishes for me.

“No,” I say sharply, then bite my lip. “And yes. I can’t stop loving you, Rus, that’s impossible. On my final day in this life, in whatever realm I find myself in, I’ll still be in love with you. But I don’t know if I’ll still be by your side. Our worlds have asked very different things of us, and have shaped us into very different people. I wonder if there’s a limit to what I can live with. There should be, shouldn’t there?”

I watch him carefully, afraid of the effect my words might have.

“You’re right, there should be limits. Your strength to stand for what you believe is one of the things I love about you. But I cannot change my past, Ella.” He examines me, and I think he may have guessed where some of this is coming from. “Did you see something in my memories?” he asks.

I nod miserably, not quite able to meet his gaze as I tell him.

“It was the day you went back to the human court. After your mother had been attacked.”

Ruskin’s eyes brighten with recognition.

“Ah.”

I don’t think I need to remind him of the details—the bodies and the blood and his cold, awful rage—I can see it playing out on his face now. He doesn’t speak again for a long while. The group stops for rest and food with the pair of us still not having finished our conversation. But while Destan and the Sunshards exchange stories of Halima over lunch, Ruskin eventually draws me aside. He leads me down to the brook where we collect water, standing on the bank as the crystal-clear stream rushes by.

“I could show you what came before that memory,” he says, looking over the water. “Could play out for you the way I found my mother in that castle, treated no better than an animal—worse, tortured to within an inch of her life. You might understand more of the pain and the fear I felt. You might comprehend how badly I wanted to make sure the humans couldn’t do that to anyone I loved ever again. But it wouldn’t erase that day.”

I ask the question I’ve been most afraid to ask. “And if you were to live through it again tomorrow, would you do the same?”

“You mean, if it were you I found in that castle?”

I nod.

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