Page 67 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
Makar took a seat next to Gavrin, who sat across from me. I took another bite of my oatmeal. “She’s right, ya know. If anyone sees you, they’ll start talkin’,” Makar chimed in.
It had only been five days since my lashings.
I didn’t forget. Couldn’t forget. But I wasn’t feeling any pain. I wanted to practice my magic, my sword fighting, shooting arrows at trees. I needed to. I was going to kill the King—and his men.
Gavrin waved his hand dismissively at Makar. “Not if we get to our spot. Who says she has to train in front of the others? I, for one, think it’s a good idea. She obviously is healed,” he whispered for just us to hear.
Before I could speak up, Makar cleared his throat, and Eryn nudged my ribs. “The prince,” she whispered.
I sat up straight and turned my attention towards the open doors of the dining hall.
Fintan came over to me quickly.
“Elara, you’re—you’re here.” He went to touch my shoulder, but I recoiled from him, not realizing what I was doing.
Hurt filled his expression.
“Can we talk?” He asked, then looked at everyone else around me, “alone? Please, Elara.”
I sighed. He didn’t deserve my silence.
I stood, “Of course.”
I let him hold my hand as we walked down the hall and to the balcony, where I enjoyed watching the stars.
We stopped and faced each other.
“I’m so fucking sorry for what happened. I tried to stop him, tried to get to you,” panic flooded his tone.
My heart dropped.
I could feel his pain. His sadness. His guilt. I wanted to comfort him. But I just couldn’t.
“I don’t know how you survived. You are so strong. So brave! I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I will fall to my knees and beg.”
I waited a moment, thinking of my next words carefully.
“I survived because the fire inside me burned stronger than the fire around me. I’m not going to say it’s okay, because nothing about what happened was okay,” my eyes searched his. “But none of this was your fault, Fin. You can’t possibly take blame for your father’s hatred of me and his sadistic behavior.”
“You’ve changed,” Fintan said, not in a bad tone, but a shocked one. Like he wasn’t sure who he was looking at.
“Yeah, well, real growth starts when you’re tired of your own shit. When you’re tired of being weak. Helpless. I refuse to feel that way anymore.”
He cupped my face and brought his closer to mine. But before his lips touched mine, I placed my hand on his chest. “Fintan… I-I can’t. I need time. I need space.”
He pulled away. “From me?”
“From everything.”
Sadness washed over his expression. He placed his hands in his pockets to keep from touching me.
“He won’t be bothering you anymore. My mother and I made sure of that. She has some kind of influence over him, likely due to some dirt she has on him that he doesn’t want others to know, but he agreed to leave you be. Agreed that we can marry.”
I fell quiet. Not knowing what to say.
I couldn’t go through with marrying the prince. Could I?
Fintan glanced at my back as I turned my body to look at the cloudy sky. A chill was in the air.
