One Dark Throne (Three Dark Crowns #2)(26)

“Mirabella—”

“I keep talking because I know that when I stop, it will be over. That is what you have come to tell me.”

“I came to say good-bye.”

Mirabella’s throat tightens. Her eyes sting. But she is a queen. A broken heart must not show.

“You chose her. Because you could not have me?” She would take that back the moment it leaves her lips. She hates the tone of it. The foolish hope.

“I chose her because I love her. I have always loved her.”

He is not lying. But it is not the whole truth. It is plain in the way he refuses to meet her eyes.

“Words,” she says. “You said you loved me as well once. You still . . . want me, Joseph.”

He does look at her finally, but what she sees in him is not lust. But guilt.

“Part of me may always,” he says. “And I will always care, about what happens to you. But I choose Jules.”

“As if there were a choice to make,” she says.

“If there were, if there truly were, my choice would be the same. What happened between us was a mistake. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know where I was, or who you were.”

“And the night of the Hunt? We both knew better then. Are you still going to tell me it was a mistake? An accident?”

Joseph lowers his head. “That night was . . .”

Ecstasy. Passion. A moment of peace amid the chaos of the festival.

“. . . desperation,” he says. “I wanted to be with Jules, but she refused me. I thought I’d lost her.”

Bitterness rises in her throat. Jules wants him and has him, and now she gloats. She cannot even leave Mirabella her memories. But that is not fair, Mirabella thinks, and closes her eyes. I have always known that I was the trespasser into their story.

“Why have you come to tell me this?” she asks, and in her ears her voice sounds even and faraway.

“I suppose I didn’t want you to hope. I owed you that, didn’t I? I couldn’t just disappear, not after what happened.”

“Very well,” she says. “I will not hope. If I ever did.”

“I’m sorry, Mirabella.”

“Do not apologize. I do not need it. When do you sail back for Wolf Spring?”

“Tonight.”

She turns to him and smiles, her hands folded atop her skirt.

“Good. Sail safely, Joseph.”

He swallows. He has much more to say. But she will hear none of it. He takes his leave, and the textured wallpaper of the drawing room wavers before her eyes.

As his footsteps fade, Bree slips into the room and comes to take her in her arms.

“He chose her,” Mirabella says. “I knew that he would. He was hers before he was mine.”

“I heard,” Bree says softly.

“You were listening.”

“Of course I was. Are you all right, Mira?”

Mirabella turns her head. If she went to the southward-facing windows, she could watch as he left. She could know if he ever looked back.

“I am fine, Bree. It is over.”

Bree sighs. “No,” she says. “I saw the way he held you that night, Mira. And how he jumped in front of that bear. Half the island saw that. You are right: as a queen it must be over for you. But anyone with eyes can see that for him, it never will be.”





WOLF SPRING





The orchard is full when they arrive and so bustling with activity that no one even notices the arrival of a great brown bear.

“There they are.” Jules points. Two boys, both with red-gold hair, stand talking with Ellis and Madrigal. Madrigal flirts with them mercilessly.

“I hope they don’t expect me to giggle like that,” Arsinoe says.

“No one expects anyone to giggle like that,” Jules replies, watching her mother with a sour expression.

“Which one is Tommy and which is Michael?”

“Tommy is the bigger of the two. Michael, the more handsome.”

“Jules,” Arsinoe scolds. “When Joseph gets back, I’m telling him.”

She squares her shoulders. The unpleasantness can no longer be put off. She reaches out to Braddock and pats him. He is calm, blinking curiously at the activity and the food piled high on the tables.

Arsinoe takes a step toward the suitors and raises an arm in greeting, just as children come streaming out from between the trees. She falls in the midst of them, bowled over in the dirt as they squeal, caught up in a game of tag. Braddock grunts and joins in the fun. He rolls her back and forth on the ground. She rolls into chairs and upends them. Apples rain down like hail, and she covers her head as the bear lies down on top of her legs.

Someone shouts, and Arsinoe quickly holds her palms up.

“No, no, Braddock, back now,” she says. She rolls onto her knees just in time to see Jules twist a knife out of Tommy Stratford’s hands.

“Enough, Braddock, enough.” Arsinoe laughs, and shoves his large brown head.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy says. “I thought . . . I thought she was being attacked.”

Michael Percy works up his courage and moves past Tommy to offer her his hand.

“The bear’s a lot to handle,” he says as he helps her to her feet. “How do you manage?”