Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(57)

My gut twists, realizing what he’s saying. She was a killer. A mass murderer. My God, didn’t the plague kill tens of millions of people?

“The Cast allowed for only a single verified record of the queen,” he says. “There have been theories written, novels, even a collection of poetry, but most of what we know today is hearsay.” He pushes aside a couple of books and sets down the scroll he’s been holding. He unrolls it a little, glancing over the faded script. He rolls and unrolls it a couple more times, looking for a passage. “The Painted Annals aren’t ever the full story—nothing is, really—but they’re the only full written account I’ve found of her birth, with sporadic, pivotal tales that reach into the year she was arrested. Everything else is rumor and stories told over centuries by unreliable mouths. Not many alive today knew her personally, and she was a very private soul. I definitely think you should read all the accounts; I’ll give this first one to you so you can see for yourself, without my influence or anyone else’s.” He rolls up the scroll and hands it to me. “It’s set to open at the birth announcement.”

I take it from him, not sure what to do with it. I’m pretty positive I won’t like what I find inside.

“There’s more that we . . . that we need to talk about,” he adds, his tone getting tense.

The scroll is heavy in my hands. Looking at it, I’m not sure I can take much more. “I hope you’re kidding.”

“It’s about the Introduction tonight.”

I shake my head, standing. “No. Enough’s enough.” I’ve definitely reached my limit.

His voice lowers in warning. “It’s important.”

“Yeah, well, so’s my sanity.” I tuck the scroll under my arm and snatch my bag of granola from the floor, heading for the door. “I’m done.”

“Sage, you need to—” he starts, but he cuts off as I walk past. “Listen.” And he grabs at my arm, stopping my escape.

I go still, staring at his fingers gripping my elbow. They’re pressing in, insistent. “What’re you doing?” Warmth slinks from his touch, spreading to my shoulder. “Let go.” My gaze moves up to his face.

His features are tight before realization seems to flood him. He releases me, stepping back. Then he looks away. A few tense seconds tick by, and the memory of Kieran choking me returns full throttle, before Faelan adds again, “This is important.”

I should just walk out, but he’s obviously nervous because of whatever he’s got to tell me. “Spit it out, then.”

He hesitates for a second but finally says, “During the ceremony tonight, you’ll stand in front of the Houses for the Introduction and choose your protector.” He pauses, his feet shifting nervously. “You’re meant to pick me. And you’re to make it clear to everyone that you trust me, that this was your choice.”

That seems like a rich demand at this point. “Is it really my choice?”

His brow furrows. “Of course.”

“I asked Marius at dinner if he could do the protecting thing. He didn’t act like that was okay.”

That seems to knock him sideways a bit. “You asked Marius? Why?”

Because Marius is safer, I want to tell him. He doesn’t make me all fluttery in my chest every time I look at him. But instead I say, “You didn’t seem very . . . relatable. And then last night that dark prince, Kieran, said he was throwing his hat in the ring too. It’s all completely confusing. I’ve got no idea what I’m supposed to do.” Before I can stop the honesty, I add in a whisper, “And I think I’m sorta scared of you.”

He really doesn’t like that. He repeats tightly, “I scare you?” His fingers curl into a fist at his side. “I saved your life. Twice. Even though you nearly killed me. But Kieran did kill you—and somehow I’m the one who scares you?”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say. “This whole thing is a mess. I never asked for any of it.”

“Neither did I.”

I stare up at him. Somehow he’s suddenly only inches away. My heart pounds a little louder in my head. I swear he’s stealing all the air in the room.

“Can I just get some freaking time to think?” I ask under my breath. There’s way too much going on here between him and me right now. With his eyes on me like that, I can’t tell if he wants to strangle me or kiss me.

He opens up space between us again, his gaze shifting back to the ground as his shoulders sink a little. “Right. I’ll tell Marius that it’s possible you’ll choose someone else tonight.”

Even though he looks stricken by the idea, he’s not pushing me into something I don’t want. But maybe he’s relieved I’m giving him an out; he never wanted this to begin with.

Then why does he look pissed enough to crack bricks with his teeth?

“You should go,” he says. It’s obvious that any understanding we built during our training today has evaporated. “Aelia will come by your cottage and help you get ready for the ceremony. We’ll leave around six. It starts at sunset.”

I watch his stiff features for a few more heartbeats and then quietly say, “Okay,” before I turn and walk away.





TWENTY-THREE