Page 68 of Joined By Magic

Every word he spoke was clipped, as if he struggled to get them out. I frowned. “Like who?”

“The others. The palace girls.”

Shock struck me dumb. He was right, of course, but hearing it hurt just the same. I could feel myself slipping into dull compliance. I didn’t want to, but what else could I do? The memory of the pure terror I’d felt at the prince’s last punishment still burned bright. The horror of believing he’d keep me like that for a day, or more. He’d finally found something that frightened me enough to force me to behave. And now even that was angering him?

He watched me, waiting for a response I couldn’t give. My tongue froze to the roof of my mouth, and I stared back. I had to do something, to break the horrible silence, but I couldn’t.

“Talia!” It was nearly a shout, and I flinched. His voice crackled with emotion, an edge of desperation. He looked away, shoulders heaving. When he turned to me, his eyes were wild. “I won’t punish you like that again. Snap out of this.”

Something in me shifted. A tiny, faint glimmer of feeling broke through the fog. A thread of anger. Words came, first hesitantly, then with more force. “You knew it’d break me. It’s what you wanted.”

“That’s not—” His fists clenched, and he took a breath. “You ran from me. I had to ensure it wouldn’t happen again. I’ve seen how this place has changed you. I want things to be as they were when we return to Atar.”

The thread of anger flared into flame at his petulant words. A child, deprived of his favorite toy. “What about what I want? I’m a person.”

That sounded petulant too. The ridiculousness of the situation swamped me. We knew each other’s bodies with the greatest intimacy possible, but we couldn’t talk to each other. Not properly.

“Once we reach the palace and you’re in your rightful place, things can return to normal.”

My rightful place? A double-edged statement. My place as the head of the Collection, or my place at his feet? Chained to his bed?

“I want . . .” I fought for honesty. “I want to decide where my rightful place is. And in Atar, I’ll never be able to. I’m a non-mage. We’re seen as worthless. It doesn’t matter how rich I end up, I’ll still be second-class. I’ll always be trapped.”

The harsh words fell between us.Trapped.

He didn’t answer for a long time. At last, he said, “I’ve had free access to the Collection for over twenty years. You’re the only girl who has captured my interest. You’re not worthless.”

Shock stabbed me right in the chest. Not worthless. Hardly high praise, but coming from him, it was. I slid a tentative hand onto his leg. The first time, I realized, that I’d touched him without being ordered to for quite some time. Since before I planned my escape.

He looked down at my hand, then placed his own over it, a gesture so shockingly tender that it nearly undid me. The happiness and contentment I’d once felt in my position—I could almost taste it. I could imagine myself back in the palace with the prince, just as we’d been before. But, even as I thought it, my stomach lurched at the thought of returning to servitude. To a place where I’d never be equal.

“Can you imagine being me? How it would feel?” I paused. “You were powerless once. As a child.”

His hand flinched against mine, and he hissed. “I’m not my father. If you belonged to him—”

“I know you’re not him. But would you want to live your life as I do?”

He stayed silent for a long time. When he spoke, his voice sounded heavy. Subdued. “Of course not.”

I let the words hang and leaned my head against his stiff shoulder. A small sigh escaped his lips. “I didn’t want to leave you, but the thought of going back . . . it’s like I’m being suffocated. And when that man said he could get Pia out too, that we could have new names and live where we’d be free and equal, I couldn’t refuse it. I’m sorry.” I swallowed. “But the way you punished me terrified me. You knew it would, but you did it anyway.”

I closed my eyes, exhausted. However this turned out, it felt right to be honest. To drop the Collection girl act.

His hand tightened on mine, a desperate clutch. “I thought if I could keep you in line, remain strict, then you’d be content when we returned.” Pain rang in his words. “But I can’t watch you become like the others. Dead-eyed and miserable. Not you.”

My chest ached, even as a faint beam of possibility shone through the fog around my mind. He couldn’t mean it. I couldn’t let myself believe it.

His breath shuddered as he inhaled. “I don’t want you as a captive.” He turned away, his usual trick to hide his pain, but he kept a tight grip of my hand. “My disobedient girl. When I reclaim Atar, you may take your sister and leave.”

Disbelief froze me, until I managed to say, “Really?”

“Yes.”

My heart surged and broke all at once, elation and searing pain tangled in a knot that almost choked me. He wanted me to be happy. He cared more about that than keeping me with him, even though it clearly hurt. Why now? Why must the very first time he showed me he cared be at the moment he agreed to let me go? It seemed so cruel, such a bitter pill, that I should win what I wanted so much right when I finally understood what I was giving up.

He still stared away from me, his body taut. I hesitated, then flung myself onto his knee. A grunt of surprise, and his arms came around me, gripping me tight. Tears bubbled up from nowhere, an unstoppable flood, and I pressed my head against his chest as all the pain and stress of the last few months poured out of me at once. Why couldn’t things be different?

We sat together for a long time, until the sun painted the sky bright red out of the window. Every moment felt like something precious, something to hoard like a jealous sea snake’s treasure. Eventually, I managed a mumbled, “Thank you.”

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