Page 213 of A Realm of Shattered Lies

But with all the excess Evander had flashed in his life before, it had only conveyed that—affluence. Wealth.

The Evander that stands before me is not that prince.

This is a king.

It’s in the way he carries himself, chin held high and face set on the horizon. I know the glistening crown weighs heavy on his head, though there’s no seeing that if you happen to be a casual onlooker, not with the way he holds his head steady.

His sea-green eyes, typically so full of mischief, are bright with sorrow, a rage I’d never seen until the day of Cecilia’s birth. I’m surprised it doesn’t frighten me, to glimpse this sort of rage in my husband, my gentle Evander.

But it’s not the type of rage a wife fears.

It’s the type of rage a wife’s enemies fear.

Evander raises a hand, and a hush falls over the crowd. Even Evander’s power-grabbing cousins shut their mouths long enough to listen.

“People of Dwellen,” says Evander, his voice sounding so much older than it used to. For a moment, it unsettles me, looking up onto the stage and seeing a male I don’t recognize. Like someone has taken my husband’s body, and I don’t know who he is anymore, and I can’t even blame him for it because all he’s doing is being what the Fates require of him. But then Evander grits his teeth, and a crease furrows his brow. I watch as he tries and fails to fight back the tears pooling at his lids.

I watch as Evander lets out a steadying exhale, the type that Marken would have chastised him for.

Next to me, my mother holds her breath and squeezes my hand gently.

Still, the crowd remains silent.

But then Evander’s gaze finds mine, and something in him changes.

He starts again, but this time he unclasps the majestic velvet cloak from around his neck. It flutters in the wind before it falls to the stage.

Evander shakes his shoulders out, scratching his neck, but his face relaxes. “Ah, that’s much better. I thought I was being strangled. I don’t know if any of you have worn a cloak recently, but there’s a reason they went out of style a century ago.”

My father, Fates bless that man, is the first to laugh, a deep rumble that echoes through the crowd, picking up stray friends on the way until gentle chuckles sweep over the people.

My chest is still tight, and I pull Cecilia closer, finding comfort in her warm weight against my chest. But as I watch Evander, I find he already looks more himself.

He runs his hands through his hair, causing the crown to shift askew.

Evander’s cousin Casper lets out a scoff, but the acrid look I shoot him is enough for him to widen his eyes and clamp his mouth shut.

This time when Evander speaks, there’s not a soul in the crowd who doesn’t listen. “I’m not my father. And I won’t try to be. I’m not that kind of king. I suppose I could pretend I am, but you’ve known my reputation for quite some time now, and I know there’s no erasing it from your memory. I’m not a hard male, not like he was. We all know it was my brother who was supposed to rule in my father’s place, but…”

My mother tenses up next to me. Evander is rambling, and the temporary attention his joke wrung out of the crowd is fading. He looks at me again, and I shake my head, hoping I can communicate without words.

You don’t have to put yourself down.

Evander nods, then looks out into the crowd once more. “Not long ago, my wife, Princess—I mean, Queen—Elynore, was attacked by the very creatures who invaded our city. She was pregnant with our daughter, Cecilia, at the time. For the worst several hours of my life, I was sure I would lose both of them. During that time, every moment I’d given up on myself came back to me. Every training session I skipped after a revel, every lesson I fell asleep during, every criticism of my father’s that I ignored, even when he was right about me. I spent years failing myself, and I convinced myself there was no harm in it. Because it was my life and I could live it as I wished, so long as I didn’t harm anyone else. But…I’ve come to realize just how wrong I was. That, in failing myself, I was setting myself up to fail others. My wife. My child.” He swallows. “Jerad. Even Olwen…” The crowd hums at the exiled princess’s name. “You. The years I wasted on ale and…” Evander steals a glance at my father, before swallowing and saying, “reckless living. I wasn’t just failing myself. I was failing you, the people I would someday need to protect. I should have spent that time preparing. Instead, I spent it hiding from my responsibilities. But then…” He takes in a deep breath and looks at me…

“But then Ellie, you pulled through, and so did little Cecilia, and I knew in that moment the Fates had granted me a second chance. I didn’t know at the time, of course. Had no idea that second chance would come with the weight of the crown on my head. I think… I think we all expected my father to outlive Alondria itself.”

The crowd nods in unison, respectfully hanging on Evander’s every word.

“I am not my father. I’m not my brother, either. I’m not the king you deserve, the one who’s spent an entire life preparing to lead you. You already know that. But I’m here to tell you I know it too. And that I’m done failing myself. I’m done failing my family. And if you follow me—well—I won’t say that I’ll never fail, because we all know I have years of learning to make up for, but I won’t give up on you, Dwellen. You’re my home. And you’re Ellie’s home, and my daughter’s home, and my wonderful in-laws’ home, and if you’ll have me, people of Dwellen—”

“Don’t be fooled by his faux humility,” says Evander’s cousin, face locked into a perpetual snarl as he steps onto the stage.

My mother mutters something incoherent under her breath.

Casper speaks loudly enough that he’ll probably grab the attention of the Others and lure them back to Othian. “What my cousin is about to do is ask us to fight in Naenden’s rebellion against their new ruler. Their new ruler who controls the very beasts that ransacked our home. What he hasn’t told you is that King Azrael wishes to ally with us. Just think of the protection his army could provide us if it were turned away from us rather than toward us. Evander has friends in Naenden he wishes to save at the cost of your lives.”

I mark that male in my mind, and as much as I’d love to march up to the stage and slug him in the throat, my mother grasps my hand.

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