Ash Princess(Ash Princess Trilogy #1)(98)
“Not nearly as hard as I would imagine it is to endure,” I reply, struggling not to raise my voice.
He has the good sense to look chastened, and I can feel a fraction of my steeled heart soften ever so slightly. I ball my hands into fists at my sides, to keep from reaching out. He does not get to be the wronged hero.
“What were they looking for?” I press.
He hesitates another second before continuing. “Prolonged exposure in the mines…it does something to a person, it imbues them with qualities of the gems they mine, somehow. Some people can stand it, most can’t. We knew this. You knew this. What we didn’t know was why. But my father thought it was something that could be useful if it could be understood. And it turned out it was. The physicians have been running tests and comparisons for years. Months ago they finally concluded the cause. The magic in the mines is so thick that it’s in the air itself. It gives the gems their power, but it also seeps into a person’s body—into their blood, specifically. A rare few people can survive with it, but most aren’t so lucky. The magic drives them mad.
“At first, we killed off anyone who showed signs of it, because we feared they were lethal. But my father decided that was wasteful. Maybe they were a danger to us, he said, but wouldn’t that also make them a danger to others? He thought he could weaponize them, send them into battle on the front lines to do as much damage as possible and limit loss of life.”
“But that doesn’t limit loss of life at all,” I say, struggling not to yell.
He flinches anyway. “I know. I know.”
“And you used them in Vecturia,” I continue. I’m no longer playing a part. My anger has bubbled to the surface, and it makes me dangerous. With so much at risk, I know I need to keep my temper, but it feels impossible. I realize that I don’t know S?ren any better than he knows me. “How many?”
He doesn’t answer at first. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “Hundreds, I think. My father gave the order.”
“Your father was here, S?ren. You gave the order.”
His face blanches. “I didn’t want to. It was always the plan, even before we set sail. He wanted to test them out in a battle he knew we could win so he could then begin selling them to other countries. My father always gets what he wants, you know that better than anyone,” he says. His voice turns pleading as he reaches for my hand, but I pull away as if his touch burns.
He wants my forgiveness again, he wants me to cleanse him of his father’s sins, but the blood is on his own hands this time.
“I do,” I say, looking down at the ground between us. Anger is one thing, but disappointment will wound him worse. “I’ve withstood his wrath time and time again for things I didn’t even do. But I know who I am because of it; I know what matters to me and what I’m willing to fight for. Can you say the same?”
He swallows. “I know that I’m willing to fight for you,” he says quietly.
I don’t doubt that he means it, especially after the banquet. S?ren wants so badly to be different from his father. And I wanted this to be easy, one way or another, but I feel like I’m being torn in two.
My dagger presses against the skin of my forearm from where it’s hidden in the sleeve of my cloak, but the weight isn’t uncomfortable as it was earlier. It’s almost welcome, an anchor in a stormy sea and the only thing keeping me from getting lost in the waves. I can’t be taken over by anger, not when there is still so much to do and time is running out.
“Thora,” S?ren says, stepping closer to me. This time, I don’t move away. I don’t flinch when he reaches his hand up to touch my cheek. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, how I wish I could go back and undo it. I would, in a heartbeat.”
“There’s no going back,” I say, though I’m not sure if I’m talking to him or myself. I force myself to look up and meet his eyes and let Thora take over, one last time, before I bury my dagger in his back. “It’ll be all right, S?ren. We’ll get past it. I know you’re nothing like your father,” I say, because I know that’s what he needs to hear.
Unbidden, the Kaiserin comes to mind, telling me about how she fell in love with the Kaiser, how she never imagined he was capable of everything he’s done. What is S?ren capable of? I wonder. What evil will fester in his soul and grow if I don’t kill him now? In a dozen years, he could be worse than the Kaiser himself.
I twine my fingers through the short hair at the base of his skull, pulling him down into a slow and bruising kiss. After a second, he returns it, cradling my face in his hands like he’s afraid he’ll break me. There’s wetness on my cheeks, but I’m not sure if the tears are mine or his. It doesn’t matter, I suppose. For a breath, we’re one person and I feel his sadness as acutely as I feel my own.
As I deepen the kiss, I slide the dagger down my free arm until its handle is clutched tightly in my hand. It takes some maneuvering to unsheathe it, but he’s lost in my arms and his own pain so deeply he doesn’t notice anything. Not until the sharp point of my blade is pressed to his back.
His lips break away from mine and his blue eyes fly open, searching for answers that he discovers quickly. Shock registers on his face, but it’s all too soon replaced by resignation. The lump in his throat bobs as he swallows and gives an infinitesimal nod.