Page 100 of A Kingdom of Destruction

“If you have thoughts on my nuptials, then say them out loud rather than beating around the bush.” She wouldn’t allow himto cow her. Intimidation was always the tactic he’d favored. “I notice you came alone, which means you anticipate an intimate conversation. So? Go ahead. Insult me more.”

Aven hadn’t moved from her spot.

King Fergus came to her and stopped with only a few inches separating them, close enough for her to make out the details of his jacket. He wore nothing to mark him as a ruler, but his bearing hadn’t changed. Despite the years added to him by grief, he managed to throw his shoulders back, paint a picture of absolute charisma and strength.

Her father didn’t need a crown to show his status. He breathed it.

“I miss you,” he admitted.

Gods, she missed him too. “Perhaps you should have thought about the consequences before you snuck here and stole a piece of the Darkroot,” Aven said instead. It came out in a rush.

Nothing changed on his face, and if he had any reaction to her spilling the truth, he gave no signs. “Who told you about that?”

She sucked in a breath. There was no excuse on his part. Nothing but stark honesty. “You stole from them and used it as a weapon. Why?”

“Why would I not? The war wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Their Tree of Magic makes the fae formidable foes.” He stalked around the table and drew his fingers along the spotless tabletop, his sneer mirrored on the surface. “We deserved to have the same advantages they do. Their power might have been weaponized and turned against them, but look where it brought us. An end to the war.”

“At what cost?” she pressed.

“It is the price of any battle, as you well know.”

“You act like you don’t even care about your children. They were the cost. And trust me, I’ve thought about them a lot. You have no idea how I’ve struggled to cope.”

“Of course I care about my children. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care, Aven. Did you not think I’d want to see you with your wedding only days away?” King Fergus pleaded. “I would rather we not be anywhere near this dreadful place. I’d rather you not marry that deplorable man?—”

“Don’t talk about Cillian,” she interrupted. “You don’t know him the way I do.” And hedidcare about her.

She gripped her skirt to do something with her hands. This meeting would have been better in her armor. She wasn’t used to seeing her father in a skirt. It brought home how greatly things had changed.

“You don’t have to do this. Aven, please. You have other options. Do not throw your life away to shackle yourself to a man who can never love you the way you deserve. The fae are monsters. Their cursed tree has corrupted them down to their hearts and soul. You won’t be happy?—”

“Stop.” She held out a hand to get him to quiet. Of course she had to go through with this. “You’re trying to turn things around on me like I’ll somehow overlook everything you’ve done. It’s impossible to ignore your sins or mine, and I knowexactlywhat I’m getting into with Cillian. You’re not going to stop me.”

She had to make up for his sins. All the things he’d done against these people and the problems he’d caused, it was for her to rectify. She took the first steps, and now with the finish line looming closely ahead, she was unable to stop the momentum.

They were getting nowhere this way. Going around in circles.

Her father withstood the tension in the room for only a few moments longer than she did, every part of her shifting toward the door and ready to race out of there to resume the distance between them.

How had she thought anything would be different? Everything changed, but some things never would. There would always be a great yawning distance between them that nothing could breach.

Aven left the library breathless and close to tears, with the guards Cillian assigned her racing to keep up behind her.

King Fergus could go back to his castle and choke on his self-righteousness for all she cared. Aven stopped in the lobby and leaned hard on the banister, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Nothing about the meeting turned out the way she’d wanted to in her heart. She’d thought they might be able to talk like civilized people and air their grievances, maybe come together under the weight of the tragedy they shared.

But no. Her father had come here to make her feel guilty for her choices even though she felt she hadn’t had any.

Aven pushed away from the staircase and floundered blindly toward the open palace doors. She needed air. She couldn’t breathe; everything was starting to grow dark?—

“Whoa, hold on.” Arms came around her along with the cool scent of autumn woods and spicy cider. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Nowhere,” she said with a sniffle. “I’m clearly going nowhere. There’s always someone around to stop me.”

Roran wouldn’t let go of her. His arms banded around her back and pressed her to his chest, forcing her to inhale his ridiculously comforting scent.

“You’re going to run right into a pillar if you’re not careful. You’re crying hard enough to flood the palace and making enough noise to wake the dead.”

His tone might be mocking, but his hands were soft as they drew soothing circles between her shoulders. Roran refused to let go of her.

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