“How can I convince people I’m worthy?” I asked. My shoulders hunched as my mind flashed back to exhausting years of working to earn love.
“How do I convince anyone to pledge their devotion to me?” Bryce asked, sounding equally weary.
I glanced his way. Perhaps he had his own insecurities.
“You must inspire the kingdom,” Amy said, voice shaking along with the hoofbeats of his ass. “The people expect a sort of silent strength from you.”
I perked up. “I can do stoic. I’ll be a freaking inspiration.”
“Oh no, I mean Bryce.Youmust be a kind, genteel woman.” Amy tapped the side of his nose, a grandfatherly twinkle in his eye that I suddenly wanted to punch out.
I pulled on the reins, dragging my horse to a halt. We stoodon the bluff, a steep drop to the ocean on one side and rolling hills on the other. “Excuse me? Bryce can be all sulky and mysterious, and people will find him charming, but I have to benice?” I hissed the word.
It was the Mr. Darcy conundrum. Men could be antisocial assholes and people thought they were hot and wanted to understand them. If I was an antisocial asshole, people told me to smile more.
Bryce turned his horse to face me, knuckles white around the reins. Amy sat trapped in the middle on his dumpy ass, eyes wide. Probably, since he’d given us one singular magic lesson, he knew he’d served his purpose and his time drew nigh. Typically, after mentors in stories found a Chosen One and told them enough information to keep them alive but withheld enough for no other reason than to make the journey difficult, they were expendable.
“The people expect a certain feminine grace,” Amy explained. “They need to see your empathy, your womanly, healing touch—”
“A healthy choice for you would be to stop talking,” I said.
Bryce looked between us. Salty air lifted the hair off his neck, and his horse pranced, impatient to get going. I waited for him to gloat or mock. He probably agreed with Amy, seeing as just yesterday, he’d urged me to change too.
Amy opened his mouth.
“No,” Bryce said. “She has as much right to be a dick as I do.”
I sputtered as everything inside me recoiled. There he went again,helpingme. This wasdisastrous. Helping led to caring, which led to expectations.
This not-hate only started after we came here, after I appeared to be making an effort to save the world. He’d expect it now: effort. His hate was simpler than hisbothering. While him liking me would help me get magic, it wasn’t worth losing our dynamic—a dynamic I was beginning to realize I valued more than I’d thought.
Collecting myself, I lifted my chin. “On second thought, I’llpass on the problematic inner magic. I’ll defeat the Evil One without it.” I nudged my horse into a walk.
Amy kicked his ass, hurrying after me. “Without Charisma, why will anyone follow you into battle? Who will care? What bards will sing your glory if no one is moved by your story?”
My stomach began to hurt.
I was losing myself and my only honest relationship. Tempted by glory and adoration, I’d been morphing myself back into something society deemed acceptable. I’d dug myself deep, surrounding myself with more and more lies to convince people I was worthy. But I wasn’t, and I’d never get magic because no one ever liked me genuinely, not the real me; they only liked my pretty facade. If I didn’t claw my way out soon, I’d lose myself again for nothing.
If I backed out now, maybe there was still time for Bryce to face his fears and figure out how to become the Chosen One he was. I was wrong before. I couldn’t be a better Chosen One than him. I couldn’t do this at all.
I didn’t know these people, didn’t even know they existed until a magical portal brought me to their world, but their lives were real, and they deserved a chance to live, even if they were foolishly putting their hopes on someone who didn’t deserve their confidence. In the end, maybe Bryce was right to challenge the validity of my devil-may-care attitude, because Ididcare. I cared too much about these innocent people to stay.
I’d quit this, just like I quit my old life, and flee back to the safety of perpetual failure, where I couldn’t let anyone down.
“Defeat the Evil One yourself,” I choked out. “I’m going back to the portal, and I’m going home.”
“Thank god,” Bryce said on a sigh of relief. “I’m out too.”
“You can’t be,” said Amy.
“I don’t even want to be a Chosen One!” I said. “I only said it to piss Bryce off. Can I please, please just go home?”
Bryce’s face softened. He opened his mouth, but Amy cut him off.
“I’m sorry. You cannot. It’s impossible.” To his credit, Amy’s eyes held pity. “In the past, when a Chosen One was summoned, the portal for them to return home didn’t open again until they left the world better off than when they came.”
Darkness flirted with the edges of my vision. My stomach twisted in on itself. We werestuckhere? I guessed I sort of assumed Bryce and I could dip if things got too hairy.
