Four Dead Queens(93)

But it wasn’t due to guilt, Arebella told herself. No, it was merely shock. Her mother had been the first dead body she’d ever seen, and the image would likely never leave. After all, Arebella had always overthought things. Death would be no different.

She would replace that image with more important ones. Like being the first sole queen of Quadara, and her first ruling: to demolish the walls that separated the quadrants. Only then could Toria and Torians truly thrive.





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE





Keralie



I was considering the details of my hanging—would it be public, or would I disappear from this world, my mother and father never to know what happened to me?—when footsteps descended the stone stairs.

I looked up. The chicken bones had yet to harden. This could be my chance to obtain a weapon.

“Hello.”

That voice. An electric lantern rose in the darkness, lighting Varin’s expression. Good for him—he managed to look sorry. He must’ve spent time practicing in the mirror.

“Go away.” I returned to my examination of the filthy cell floor. He wouldn’t have anything on him that would help me.

“No.” His voice was stronger, set. He placed the lantern on the ground between us.

“Fine. Stay for all I care, but I don’t want to hear your traitorous apologies.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Me? A traitor? You played me, Keralie.”

I wanted to block out the break in his voice. Even though I hated him, it still plucked at my heart, which I’d opened for the first time since I’d left my parents. Stupid, stupid Keralie.

“I’d rather not waste my last few hours alive arguing who played who better,” I muttered. “But just for interest, what did Mackiel offer you to turn on me?” I stood, throwing my hands wide. “There’s no one here to hear your lies. Tell me the truth. I deserve that, at least. What did you trade me in for? Did he offer you a dose of HIDRA? Did you see we were failing and found yourself a better deal?”

“He gave me nothing.” He stepped forward, and I noticed his eyes were glimmering with unshed tears. “I didn’t know he was even in the palace until after I spoke with the inspector. Mackiel verified what I’d seen you do.”

“Enough!” I stepped as close to him as I could with the bars separating us. “Tell. Me. The. Truth!”

He grabbed the bars on either side of my face. “I’ve told you the truth! Why can’t you do the same? Do you have so much pride that you can’t admit what you’ve done? Tell me why you betrayed me!”

I stumbled backward—his fury tangible. “You think I’m capable of murder?” My voice crumbled to nothing.

“I didn’t.” His eyes pierced mine. “Until I saw you with that bottle of poison. Until everything pointed to you. I couldn’t turn away from the truth.”

I raked my hands down my face. “That never happened! And I didn’t even know my bracelet could do that! Don’t you see? It was Mackiel all this time. He framed me!”

He sighed and shook his head. “I came here to see if you would admit it and tell me why.”

“Mackiel, your new best friend, told you why,” I snapped. “Let’s not cover well-worn ground.”

“Not that.” He shook his head again. “I thought . . .” His face softened. “I thought you and I . . .” He sighed, hands in his hair. “I guess I was wrong.”

“And I thought you cared about me!” I filled in the gaps. “I guess we were both wrong.”

We stared at one another. Words, conversations, days, moments that could have been spent together left abandoned. He’d shown me a path, a different life, one of honor and loyalty and, perhaps, love. But he had taken that away, from both of us.

“You really believe I did it,” I said softly. “Why?”

“Because I saw you,” he said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. How much sleep had he had since I’d been arrested? If he thought I was guilty, why did it still torture him? And why did I still care?

“Saw me do what?”

“Stop playing games!” he said. “You want me to doubt what I saw.”

“I’m not playing any games. I’m trying to save my life!”

He swallowed roughly. “I can’t argue with you anymore, Keralie. If you won’t tell me the truth, then I can’t make you. You’re the best liar, after all.”

His words were like a physical blow. I couldn’t convince him I wasn’t guilty. For some reason, he’d seen something to turn him against me. Something he believed in more than he believed in me.

How could he place faith in what he’d seen when he was going blind?

And yet I couldn’t make him doubt himself. The words burned on the tip of my tongue, words that might free me but would break him. I couldn’t tear Varin apart like that. I couldn’t use his condition against him. I didn’t really hate him, after all.

“You thought you were doing what was right,” I said, understanding. “You thought I was the assassin. That’s why you turned me in.” I suppose that made it easier to understand, rather than Varin betraying me. I placed my hand on his on the cell bar, desperate for contact, but his dermasuit gloves were back in place. “But I didn’t do it. Trust me now.”