Page 76 of A Kingdom of Destruction

But she did find a single written notation about her father, a prince when he first began his quest into Mourningvale to learn about the depths of their magic.

He came in the night to steal that which is most precious to us and, we fear, our secrets with it.

They were right.

He’d managed to work their secrets against them.

There was a chance the words were a lie, but Aven felt them in her heart. Only one person could answer her questions, but she’d never see her father again.

She pushed the book shut with trembling fingers and sat staring at the wall until she lost track of time. Her worry bled through into everything else.

She hadn’t started the war. Its inception was not her responsibility, and yet, she had the opportunity to finish it permanently if she went through with this marriage.

She rocked back in her chair and studied her hands, her knees bobbing up and down.

Life wouldnotbe terrible with Cillian at her side. Aven knew that much. She found him agreeable, charming, and handsome. Intelligent and determined and, yes, sweet. Those were all admirable traits. She’d simply never seen marriage in the cards. It hadn’t even been their intention to leave her alive—she’d only survived because she wasn’t in the castle that day. Her sisters would have been better suited to stand at his side. They deserved this chance, this life—or any life at all. The thought of it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Rather than leaving the book on the library table, Aven clutched it to her chest on the way back to her room. Nora intercepted her in the hallway.

“Are you finished with your reading, Miss Aven?” Nora chirped.

Aven nodded dully. “I think I need to rest for a little bit.”

“Would you like me to bring up food for you? You skipped lunch. Perhaps some fruit tea?” Nora fell into step beside her, vibrating with unrestrained energy. Probably at the thought of being useful instead of dismissed.

The weather outside looked perfect through every passing window, but Aven shook her head again. The thought of something hot and sweet churned her stomach more.

“Nothing for me, thank you, Nora.” Her words came out bland and heavy, spoken out of a sense of politeness rather than any real desire to engage. “You have the afternoon free. I don’t need anything.”

Nora said nothing as she trailed behind Aven up to the suite, a little disappointed, but did turn down the bed and lay out a change of clothes. As solemn as she’d ever been.

Aven deserved none of it. None of the kindness or consideration, even if Nora only did her job at the behest of Cillian. Outside of those first few days when they’d sent Roran after her, she’d been treated fairly. She’d been given clothes, food, as much freedom as a woman in her situation was allowed.

Any fae prisoner in her shoes would have been executed immediately in Grimrose. Of that, she was sure.

When she closed her eyes at night, she saw the humans strung up on those poles again. She saw them set on fire and heard the crackling of the flames over their flesh.

In her dreams, they were silent, and they stared her down with a sense of menace and loathing, blaming her for not saving them. For three straight days, Aven woke covered in sweat, her hair and nightdress plastered against her clammy skin, and her heart racing.

Sometimes in those dreams, she saw her father in the crowd as well. He stood beside King Donal, and the two monarchs laughed at what had become of their people.

What they’d done.

Aven woke on the fourth day resolute. She’d always done what she felt necessary for her part. Why should it change now? If anything, she bore more responsibility. None of this was her fault, but someone had to atone for it.

Cillian waited for her in the parlor where they normally took their lunch, a full spread of food stretched out between himand her empty seat. She burst into the room, and he stood so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor.

“Aven. Good morning.”

She still felt like a half-wild beast compared to his elegance and refinement. He looked every inch the royal she was not as he slowly fell back into his chair and gestured for her to sit.

Her stomach growled at the assortment of food weighing down the table, although her head swam with the finality of the decision she’d made. The golden-haired prince only watched her and waited, the first rays of the sun burnishing each strand.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I agree,” she said in a rush. Ready to get it all out there before something inside of her hesitated. There would be no hedging. “To try things out with you. Not necessarily an official engagement, but I’d like to see how a relationship between us would work.” She worried her hands, looping her fingers together. “Officially.”

Cillian took a beat to answer her.

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