Farley finds me in an alley, staring at a wall with blank eyes, my tears long since dried. She hesitates for once, her boldness long gone. Instead, she approaches with almost tender slowness, a hand outstretched to touch my shoulder.
“I didn’t know until you did,” she murmurs. “I swear it.”
The person she loved is dead, stolen by someone else. Mine chose to walk away. Chose everything I hate over everything I am. I wonder which hurts more.
Before I let myself relax into her, allow her to comfort me, I notice someone else standing nearby.
“I knew,” Premier Davidson says. It sounds like an apology. At first I feel another surge of anger, but it isn’t his fault. Cal didn’t have to agree. Cal didn’t have to let me go.
Cal didn’t have to eagerly leap into a well-baited trap.
“Divide and conquer,” I whisper, remembering his own words. The fog of heartbreak clears enough for me to understand. Montfort and the Scarlet Guard would never support a Silver king, not truly. Not without other motives in play.
Davidson nods his head. “It’s the only way to beat them.”
Samos, Calore, Cygnet. The Rift, Norta, the Lakelands. All driven by greed, all ready to break one another for an already-broken crown. All part of Montfort’s own plan. I force another breath, and try to recover. Try to forget Cal, forget Maven, focus on the road ahead. Where it leads, I don’t know.
Somewhere in the distance, somewhere in my bones, thunder rolls.
We’re going to let them kill each other.