Page 74 of Songs of Sacrament

“But not the Carringtons. Notyourfamily.”

The blow he intended hit its mark and my nose flared. “Yes, I’m a Carrington. My legacy is exactly what you say. And I suppose I’ve lived up to it with my actions towards you. I am sorry, for all the good it will do me to say so again.”

He took several strides towards me, got close enough to touch, and raised his voice. “Do you know what sorry doesn’t fucking do? It doesn’t undo death, it doesn’t restore fucking cultures, Lennox. It doesn’t change the past.”

“I am not the one who destroyed the Alegre court.”

“No, but your father did.”

Silence slipped back into the room, taking up space, lounging as if it belonged there. He didn’t bring up the Froh which the Seelie had also badly damaged. My parents’ marriage was supposed to mark a resolution with them, but relations remained delicate. Mother’s premature death hadn’t helped, though both courts blamed the Prasanna. That wasn’t true, though. Mother came here, she was friends with the Maharani, and Shaan’s mother had returned her home with a queen’s procession. How could I change the stories our courts told, though?

Shaan was right. Sorry didn’t make up for deaths or the destruction of cultures. I’d thought taking over the Seelie magic and stopping the fighting was enough, but I was wrong. I needed to help the Seelie unravel their biases and stories and even the language they used. And that started with me rewriting my beliefs. When I’d first walked into this palace, it was with hatred in my heart for the Maharani because I believed she’d caused Mother’s death. It was a false story deeply nested into my mind. Beyond changing stories, the Seelie had reparations they needed to make. The enormity of the work that needed done seemed to shift from difficult to impossible.

My pounding heart and Shaan’s breaths were the only thing that echoed through the room. He finally broke the quiet. “Are you elemental?”

I turned away from him and studied the intricate flourishes of the molding. Shaan wasn’t who my mind and body believed he was. Everything in me felt like he was my lover—more than that, my soul. My heart ached to trust him. I had to think of the Seelie and their future, though. If I foolishly caused my death, it would leave no one to fight for this impossible task. Shaan saw me as an enemy, and I didn’t know what he might do with information about me.

“Lira,” he said, “is elemental.”

So, it was true. We were the fairies destined to break the Seelie court. Despite the Naga’s assurance that it would be for our people’s good, I couldn’t imagine a scenario where it would. I had no ability to retreat through history and change things. My only option was to prevent more horrors from happening—for my court but also for Shaan’s. Lira and I had so much work to do, but the first step was to prevent bloodshed.

If Shaan knew Lira was elemental and I’d already revealed we were siblings, then he’d make the connection regardless. And I was tired of lying to him. I turned back around and spoke with a trembling voice. I’d never said the words out loud before.

“Yes. I am elemental.”

His nose wrinkled. “You knew that the entire fucking time we spent together and shared nothing. Did you ever speak a word of truth to me or is lying inherent to the Seelie?”

Anger licked through me, flames that would burst forth and catch the room on fire despite the damn wards. I was hungry and tired and unable to do anything to soothe those needs. I stood in an unfamiliar room next to the man I desperately loved who despised me. The burden on my shoulders was more than I could bear and yet, I was the only one who could. Except for Lira. We could figure this out together, but she wasn’t fucking here. “Oh yes, Shaan.” He startled at my tone but didn’t interrupt as I flung my arms out to emphasize my words. “I see now what I should have done. I should have walked into the cottage of the son of my court’s enemy and laid everything out for him. Hello, I’m Lennox Harrison Bailey-fucking-Carrington of the goddamned Seelie and surprise I’m also a fucking elemental who my father would slaughter without a beat of hesitation if he found that out, but yes, please have that information freely.”

Shaan stepped in close enough to me that his arms grazed mine, his hips pushing against me, and the anger washed out of my body leaving me leaning away from him. “Not on the first day, but I thought we were a bit more than enemy-strangers by the end.”

“We were,” I said, “but I couldn’t share everything. I don’t have the privilege of being as guileless as you.”

“Oh, I’m privileged, am I?” he hissed, his breath hot against my cheek. “Is that how you justified using me?”

I gripped my fingers into my hair then attempted to smooth it down. “You live here in this world where you can be yourself. That’s all I’m saying. I do not have the liberty of that.”

Shaan’s body was warm against mine, and he had me nearly backed against a wall as his eyes drifted to my lips. He didn’t snap them back up but let his gaze linger before slowly raising it. “Send your father a thrush.”

I didn’t understand the shift in conversation. “For what purpose?”

“State that you’re here in the palace working with our family. Ask him to hold off his troops.”

“He won’t listen to me.”

Shaan’s nose wrinkled. “So, you won’t do it, then?”

He pulled away, and I grabbed his arm to stall him from retreating. We both froze at the touch. I longed to feel his skin, slide my fingers between his, press my forehead against his and listen to our breaths until they synced. “Of course I will. Do you not think I would do anything I could to protect your court, Shaan? To protect you? I love you.” It was a desperate plea. One last attempt to reach for the spark of what we once had. Shame crept up my neck in a hot wave, but I would destroy myself for another chance with him.

“Do I believe that after you stole my zevar?” Shaan jerked his arm free. “No, I don’t. And the only thing I feel for you—” He stepped in so close his nose brushed mine and lingered there. My lips parted. Shaan took another step closer so that every plane of our bodies seemed to connect. Hope and fear and desperation zinged through me. The feelings were worse than the erratic magic, and I considered reaching my palm up, resting it against his cheek. He didn’t want that, though, so I kept my hands at my side, my fingers flexing and curling with the want to grasp the back of his neck and kiss him so hard our mouths bruised.

Shaan leaned in closer, his lips grazing mine so gently I wasn’t sure if it was real anymore. He swallowed and his dark lashes brushed his cheeks as he pulled back so that he could look me in the eye. “I hate you. I hate the day I met you.” His voice broke, and he breathed against my cheek. My hand rose to rest against his lower back, to steady him, but he obviously wouldn’t want that touch. And my hand shook too much to be helpful, anyway. “I wish I’d never seen you or heard your lies or lived with the shame of both.”

He backed up and walked to the other side of the room, like he couldn’t bear the sight of me any longer. “Will you write your father a note?”

I swallowed. Grief sat thick in my throat. I deserved his loathing, but I’d rather face a slow, painful death than endure Shaan—the man my soul belonged to—looking me in the face and telling me he hated me. “Yes,” I choked out, my voice rough.

“I’ll watch to ensure you follow through. The Maharani has already modified the wards of the room so you can do so.”

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