Page 126 of The Forgotten Queen
Her eyes opened, and she looked at Marx. Why was he to blame?
“Did you know?” she asked.
Guilt swirled through his hazel eyes, and his gaze dropped.
“You knew who I was, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I guessed it about a week ago, but I didn’t know for sure.” Marx rubbed his forehead, meeting her cold stare. “I wanted to tell you. I wasgoingto tell you.”
Everything felt overwhelming, and she needed to protect her heart against the intense pain pummeling through her. She stiffened, putting walls up as fast as she could. “I see,” she said, taking a step back. “I’m glad we got answers. Thank you for your help in the matter.”
Marx reached for her. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t close yourself off.”
She shook her head, fighting the raw emotion inside of her that begged to come out. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” Marx’s eyes filled with tears. “I can see that you’re not fine, and I’m so sorry.”
He reached for her again, but she stepped back.
“I don’t want your pity,” she said, gathering all of her pretend strength.
Marx’s face fell, and she hated it. She hated that she’d done that to him, but even more, she hated that she’d lost herself once again.
Her father put a possessive arm around her shoulder. “Come on, Seran. Let me take you home.”
She glanced around.
This wasn’t her home.
This wasn’t her family.
This wasn’t her life.
Even though it was the only home, family, and life that she knew. She stepped toward the transporter, lost in limbo.
“Seran, wait,” Marx pleaded, reaching out to her.
The New Hope soldiers drew their guns again, prompting the Cristole soldiers to raise theirs.
“Wait!” Marx said, holding up his hands in peace. His eyes begged her. “Don’t go like this. Come inside.” He looked at King Bryant. “Let’s talk about this.”
“You said you would fully cooperate,” her father said, pinning her to his side.
“I will.” He shook his head. “I am.” He glanced at her again. “Can’t we just talk?”
She bit her lip. Maybe they shouldn’t leave like this. Maybe they should talk.
Everything was so confusing, and her head pounded with so much pressure she couldn’t even think straight. A thousand thoughts ran through her empty mind, making her head spin even faster.
“You consorted with murderers and kidnappers,purchasedmy daughter, married her, hid her true identity from her, all for your personal gain,” King Bryant said. “I don’t think there’s anything else left to talk about.”
Listed out like that, it sounded terrible.
But was it all true?
Had Marx doneallthose things?
“That wasn’t me!” he defended. “I didn’t do any of that. It was my father.”
