Page 111 of Fall of the Ember Throne (Crown and Crest 3)

I hesitate. The unspoken words are bitter in my mouth. “Your brother wants to call a truce.”

“A truce?” Camellia asks, startled.

“Mairea is gone, and you know as well as I do how unstable tambrel stones are. If you continue to use your magic, you will bear the ill effects.”

“My brother thinks I’m that vain?”

“You’re very beautiful, Camellia,” I say, playing to her ego. “It would be a shame to destroy yourself to continue someone else’s plot for revenge.”

She watches me, looking wary of the compliment but affected by it all the same.

Encouraged, I continue, “Abandon the dark arts, retract the magic from the necklaces, and Lawrence will forgive your crimes. You could step out from under its oppressive weight and move on, choosing whatever path you wish.”

“No one would be foolish enough to make that deal,” she argues.

“Then perhaps you best accept it before he retracts the offer.”

Feeling her wavering, I kneel in front of Camellia, taking her hand and hating the man I’ve become. Quietly, I say, “Aren’t you exhausted, Your Highness? Tired of the fight and this lonely existence? I know you are—I’ve seen it on your face.”

She pulls her hand away, her eyes flashing. “Do you think I can be so easily swayed with soft words? That I don’t see your attempts to manipulate me?”

I give her a wry look. “You would certainly recognize that scheme, but you’re wrong. I simply want to believe the princess I once swore allegiance to is still in there. That this wicked woman you’ve become is a facade, as easily removed as it was to slip on. I want to respect you again, Camellia. I want to take pride in the fact that I serve you. If not for yourself, do it forme.”

She focuses on me, her eyes softening. “If I agree and remove the necklaces, I want something in return.”

“Lawrence has offered you more than you deserve,” I point out, impatience souring my tone.

She shakes her head. “This isn’t something Lawrence can give me.”

Dread overtakes me. “What is it?”

“I want you to step aside so Lawrence may marry Clover. If I’m going to sacrifice everything I’ve worked for, then you must as well. Show me you’re serious about this—show me I have someone on my side.”

I stare at Camellia, breathing hard.

She leans forward, pulling my dagger from its sheath. Quietly, without the taunting tone I’ve become so used to, she says, “Or you could kill me now and be done with it.”

“Why are you so eager to die?” I demand.

A tear rolls down her pale cheek, glistening in the lamplight. “Because I have nothing to live for.”

She leans forward, clutching my tunic as she cries against me. “The one person who I thought loved me threw me away in the end. Without you, I have nothing and no one.”

I freeze, refusing to offer comfort.

“Please, Henrik. I’ll free your sister,” she begs, her eyes swimming with tears. “I’ll turn away from the magic. Just choose me. Don’t leave me alone.”

“How can I forgive you?” I say quietly. “After what you’ve done to my family and me, how could I give myself to you as you want?”

Camellia pulls back, wiping her face with her fingertips. Dropping her eyes, she says, “I don’t know.”

“Apologize,” I command.

Her eyes fly to mine, hopeful enough I nearly abandon my assignment.

But my resolve is great. I would die to protect my sister; I would lay my life down for my kingdom. This is no different, though my suffering will be long.

It’s politics, as Pranmore said. There will be casualties. Better me than Brielle or Clover.

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