Page 109 of The Spark that Ignites
“I ran to the end of the stream, out of sight from the crowd, and jumped into the water to save her. But I never learned to swim. I thrashed in the water, trying to find her but the tide pulled me under and—”
Vesper pulled her closer. “I’m so sorry.”
“A man, my first real friend, pulled me from the water. We escaped to safety, and he gave me a place to stay in his bookstore several towns over. Why he jumped in after me I still don't know. I thought maybe the gods had shown mercy.” She smiled sadly at the memory of Fionn. “I didn’t want to go on after he saved me. I wished he hadn’t at all. But I pressed on and have all these years because Maela gave her life for me. I couldn’t let it go to waste. I couldn’t be that selfish. But I couldn’t let Maela’s death go. So, I hunted down Nathaniel’s men.” She swallowed thickly, the admission bubbling up her throat. “And I picked them off—one by one.”
She had poisoned their food and watched the light leave their eyes, much like they watched the light leave hers after all those years of using her.
“As for Nathaniel, he ran like a coward after his men disappeared. I searched for him longer than I care to admit. But when I found him, I cut off all his favourite parts and let him drown in his own blood.” The next words choked out of her, needing the colossal weight of them off her chest. “You know, I ...likedhurting them. Taking their lives after what they did to me. And I don’t regret it.” She buried her face in the quilt. “I really am a monster deep down after all.”
“Hey,” Vesper whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “Look at me.”
Emmery hesitated but turned over, her eyes trailing up his chest to meet his luminescent stare. To her relief, there wasn’t a hint of judgement like she feared. After admitting what she’d done, she was sure he’d forsake her like the gods had.
Vesper’s eyes softened. “You’re not a monster. And you’re not foolish or cruel or any of the things you called yourself for what you went through. He took advantage of you. Of Maela too. You can’t blame yourself for her death. Nathaniel did that, not you.”
Her eyes fell closed as she nodded, though she didn’t believe it.
“I’m proud of you for taking back your body and making those men pay for what they did.” His brows creased. “But you can’t blame yourself forever. You need to move on, Emmery.”
“Then you can’t blame yourself for your sister’s death.”
Vesper clenched his jaw. “That’s different.”
“It’s not,” Emmery said. “You said yourself that you thought it should be you.” There were too many parallel lines in their stories. Too many intersecting roads. Too much shared pain. “If I’m going to let go, you have to do it with me.”
“Have I told you how bloody stubborn you are lately?” Vesper tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and his hand lingered.
“Not today,” she said, gazing up at him.
This man who had saved her, fought his own demons, the loss of his home, and had served a wicked king and through it all kept his humour. He always offered a smile despite the pain he quietly contained.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured.
“How am I looking at you?”
He squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain. “Like I’m a good person.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m not. The sooner you learn that the better off you are.”
“What are you talking about?” Her mind drifted back to Malheim. The people that obviously knew him intimately. “Is it because of the Scarlets?”
Vesper removed his hand, running it down his face instead. “Gods, I guess it’s that obvious, huh? Bri and Cal—they don’t know. Especially not about ... the men.”
“I won’t tell them,” Emmery said, holding his gaze, though themenpart of it surprised her. “But you know—” She wanted to say they’re bound and what he’s doing was wrong or how it went against his family values, but the words died on her tongue.
“I know. You don’t have to berate me. I already do that enough myself. But it’s ... it’s more than that.” The condemnation in the harsh lines of his face said it was true.
“Vesper,” she started, wanting to push his pain away—to help him somehow. Because she wasn’t the only one coping in the only way she knew how. “You don’t have to be perfect. And you’re kind and honest. And—”
His chest heaved with a sighed, silencing her. “People are rarely honest. In a world full of liars, words are meaningless. I proved that today, didn’t I?”
Emmery stared at him incredulously. “Youarehonest. You’re a good brother and a thoughtful friend. You care about your kingdom.” She braced her hand against his bare chest. “You’re a good man, Vesper Merikh. You’re the only one who has held me without hurting me.”
Vesper squeezed his eyes shut. “Emmery—” He painfully drew out her name. “I—”
BOOM!
