Page 75 of A Song of Shadow and Starlight

I'm always nice, Strenlys.

I've got you. We can go back to being enemies in the morning.

I shake my head, rattling the memories free. "Eris, I'm engaged to -"

Eris plants her tattooed hands on either side of my face and forces me to look her in the eye. "Ilaria Shaye Kitarni, it's ok to be afraid. It's ok to have second thoughts. It's ok to question everything you've ever known. It means you are searching for truth, searching for what brings you joy, searching for the real you and the power within. You aren't a bad person, or a terrible daughter, for making your own decisions and choosing your own thoughts. If anyone tells you otherwise, it's because they want to control you and you've taken away their power."

And Eris would know firsthand exactly what that feels like. Killing her abusive husband in self-defense, escaping her overbearing mother, and abandoning her unhelpful sisters. She claimed her freedom, and chose to put herself first, but in doing so, she forfeited her home, her family, and her titles.

Am I willing to lose my parents, blood or not, to think for myself?

Am I willing to lose Bastian and the fairytale life I imagined for us, to make my own decisions?

Am I willing to lose my kingdom and my home, to have the freedom to truly be myself, magic and all?

I wish I was brave enough, confident enough, to say I am, but the truth is, I don't know. Eris is right about one thing – Atlas Harland has shown me from the moment he saved me from that snake in the jungle that he will keep his promise to protect me. It's time I stopped treating him as my enemy and realize he's my ally. And quite possibly, my friend.

I pat Eris' hands and smile. "Forgive me for doubting you and the Harlands."

She pulls me in for a hug. "No matter what happens," she whispers, "when we land in Tronovia, you're not alone. You have us, and we will keep you safe."

"I know," I smile, and pray she means it.

Theremainingtwodaysof our trip Tronovia, I go out of my way to avoid running into Atlas. My magic lessons have been suspended because using my rare power will draw unwanted attention, so there's no reason for Atlas and me to be alone. I don't want him to bring up the night, in my fearful weakness, I spent in his room. In his bed. In his arms.

My face heats the second I picture him shirtless, remembering how his chest felt against my cheek, how intoxicating he smelled –

No! I chastise myself. I cannot, will not, should not, develop any sort of emotional attachment to Atlas. Not only is he my captor, but he is a Tronovian. One day, I will wear the Midorian crown, and he will go back to being my enemy.

I scoff.

Even I don't believe that anymore. It's ridiculous even thinking it. When I look at Atlas – or Finn, Nyx, and Eris, for that matter – I no longer see spies, assassins, or enemies. I see my friends, and at this point, my only allies. Not only in surviving the jungles but outwitting the Soul Eaters and bounty hunters Bastian sent to retrieve me. I know the Harland brothers and Eris are serious about helping me master my magic, learn self-defense skills, and figuring out who the hell I am.

"For it being such a small ship," Atlas' sudden appearance startles me, "you've done an excellent job of avoiding me."

I turn from the deck railing my elbows are rooted to and see him leaning against the outer wall, a mischievous smile on his face. I glance up and down the wrap around deck and breathe a sigh of relief that there are plenty of passengers strolling this morning. I'm not quite ready to be alone with him.

"I'm not avoiding you." A lie and he knows it. I really need to get better at masking my true feelings and motives, if I'm going to be an effective queen one day. "I've been busy."

"Busy?" He cocks his head to the side, disbelief clear in his eyes.

"Yes," I snarl, doubling down on my flimsy excuse, "busy."

"And what, pray tell, has been occupying your time so thoroughly the past two days?"

Nothing. Doing my best to evade you.

"Nothing that concerns you," I respond, snarkyness ripe in my tone. That only seems to intrigue him.

"Meaning," he straightens from the wall, "it absolutely does concern me."

I square my shoulders with his, my lower back now pinned against the railing overlooking the sea. "What do you want, Atlas?"

"We'll be docking in Tronovia soon." He strides gingerly toward me, hands buried deep in his pockets. "We haven't spoken much about my city. Do you have any questions or concerns?"

Oh, I have many questions and I'm in no short supply of concern, but I'm not sure if I want to have this conversation with him. I have the icky feeling he's looking for me to be vulnerable with him, and I'd rather maintain a healthy distance. The other night was a mistake. I won't be baring my fears to him again anytime soon. I'll just have to rebuild some of the wall he unwittingly tore down.

"Nyx has already answered all of my questions." I tilt my chin up, hoping my stance broods confidence and convinces him to drop the matter, but in true Atlas fashion, he doesn't seem to care.

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