But something glowed behind the usual sparkle in his eyes, something deeper, burning. When he looked at me like that, my heart pounded so loudly I was certain he could hear it.
I became acutely aware of how close Loki was to me. He could reach out and touch me if he wanted, and I made sure to keep my arms firmly folded across my chest so I wouldn’t be tempted to do the same.
With all the chaos in the palace, I hadn’t had a chance to think about Loki, but with him standing here, I could think of nothing else but the night we’d spent together.
More than the things we’d done, the imprints burned into my skin from where he touched me, was the memory of what we’d actually shared. A moment when I’d never felt closer to anyone, as if the two of us had become one.
The painting flashed in my mind, the image of Loki skewered at the hands of my father, and I knew that I would do whatever it took to save him, even if it went against Loki’s wishes. I could not let him die.
“I trust you have much to do, Markis,” I said numbly, and my cheeks flushed when I realized we’d been staring at each other for some time. With my husband watching.
“Of course.” Loki gave a quick nod and turned to leave.
Tove walked after him, closing the double doors behind Loki. Tove stood in front of them for a moment, leaning his forehead against the wood. When he turned back around to face me, he didn’t look at me. His mossy eyes flitted around the room, and he pushed up the sleeves on his pajama shirt.
“Is everything all right?” I asked carefully.
“Yes.” He furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m happy that you’re not going off to die. I don’t think I would like it if you died.”
“I wouldn’t like it if you died either,” I said.
“But . . .” Tove trailed off, staring intently at a spot on the floor. “Are you in love with him?”
“What?” I asked, and my heart dropped to my stomach. “Why would you . . .” I wanted to argue, but the strength had gone out of my words.
“He’s in love with you.” He lifted his head and looked up at me. “Do you know that?”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered. I walked over to the bed, needing to do something to busy myself, so I pulled up the sheets. “Loki is merely—”
“I see your auras,” Tove interrupted me, his voice firm but not angry. “His is silver, and yours is gold. And when you’re around each other, you both get a pink halo. Just now you were both glowing bright pink, and your auras intertwined.”
I stopped and didn’t say anything. What could I say to that? Tove could physically see how we felt about each other. I couldn’t deny it. I kept my back to him and waited for him to go on, for him to yell at me and accuse me of being a slut.
“I should be mad,” he said at length. “Or jealous. Shouldn’t I?”
“Tove, I’m sorry,” I said and looked back at him. “I never meant for this to happen.”
“I am jealous, but not the way I should be.” He shook his head. “He loves you, and I . . . I don’t.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “The other night, when I had the breakdown, and I hit you—”
“That wasn’t your fault,” I said quickly. “That never changed the way I felt about you.”
“No, I know.” He nodded. “But it got me thinking. I only have so much time before I completely lose it. These abilities, they’re going to keep eating at my brain until nothing is left.”
“No matter what happens, I’ll be by your side.” I stepped closer to him, trying to reassure him. “Even if I care for . . .” I paused, still not wanting to admit how I felt about Loki. “Other people don’t matter. You are my husband, and I am with you in sickness and in health.”
“You really would, wouldn’t you?” Tove asked, almost sadly. “You would take care of me if I lost my mind.”
“Of course I would.” I nodded.
It had never occurred to me to leave Tove, at least not because of what had happened the other night, or if he became sick and frail like Elora. Tove was a good man, a kind man, and he deserved as much love and care as I could give him.
“That makes what I’m about to say so much harder.” He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“What?” I sat next to him.
“I’ve realized how little time I have,” he said, “before my mind completely goes. Maybe twenty years, if I’m lucky. And then it’s gone.
“And I want to fall in love with somebody.” Tove took a deep breath. “I want to share my life with somebody. And . . . that somebody isn’t you.”
“Oh,” I said, and for a moment I felt nothing. I didn’t know how to feel about what he was saying, so my body just went numb.
“I’m sorry,” Tove said. “I know what you’ve given up to be with me, and I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to do the same for you. I thought I was. I thought because we were friends and I believed in you as Queen that would be enough. But it’s not.”
“No, it isn’t,” I agreed quietly.
“Wendy, I’m . . .” He paused, staring down at the floor. “I’m gay.”
I swallowed hard. “I thought you might be.”
“Did you?” He lifted his head to look at me. “How?”
I shrugged. “It was just a feeling.” That was a lie. Finn had pointed it out to me, but once he did, it seemed rather obvious. “So . . . I guess I’m sorry for marrying you. I shouldn’t have let you, not when I knew that this would never be happy for you.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly think it’d be happy for you either.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “In my defense, I didn’t realize how strongly you felt for Loki until the wedding. When you danced with him, you both glowed so brightly . . .”
“So you knew?” I asked. “You always knew?” He nodded. “Did you . . . did you know that I slept with him?”
“You did?” Something flashed in his eyes then, something that might have been hurt. “When?”
“In Oslinna, after . . . we fought,” I said, choosing my words carefully.
“Oh.” He stared off and didn’t say anything else for a moment.
“Are you mad?” I asked.
“Not mad.” He shook his head. “But . . . I can’t say that I’m happy either.” He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know how to explain it. But I’m glad you told me.”
“I am sorry for that. I never meant for it to happen, and I’d never want to hurt you.” I smiled wanly at him. “And it won’t happen again. I promise you that.”
“I know. Because, Wendy, I think . . .” He paused, taking another deep breath. “I want a divorce.”
And then it happened. I started to cry. I’m not sure why exactly. A combination of relief and sadness and confusion, and so much else that I’d been struggling to hold in. I was happy and relieved but sad and frightened, and a million other things all at once.
“Wendy, don’t cry.” Tove put his arm around me to comfort me, the first time he’d really touched me since we’d been married. “I didn’t want to make you sad.”
“No, I’m not sad, but . . .” I sniffled and looked up at him. “Is this because I slept with Loki?”
He laughed a little. “No. I’d made a decision before you told me that. It’s because we don’t love each other, and I think we should have a chance to spend time with the people we do love.”
“Oh. Good.” I shook my head and wiped at my eyes. “Sorry. I’m overwhelmed. And you’re right. We should get an annulment.” I nodded and stopped crying almost as soon as I had started. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Tove asked, eyeing me carefully.
“Yes, I am.” I smiled weakly at him. “It’s probably the best thing for us both.”
“Yeah, I hope so.” Tove nodded. “We’re friends, and I’ll always have your back, but we don’t need to be married for that.”
“True,” I agreed. “But I want to
wait until after this is all over with the Vittra. In case something happens to me, I want you to be King.”
“Are you sure you want me to be King?” Tove asked. “I’m going to go crazy someday.”
“But until then, you’re about the only person I trust that has any power,” I said. “Willa would be a good ruler someday, but I don’t think she’s quite there yet. She can take over for you, if you need her to.”
“You really think something’s going to happen to you?” Tove asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I need to know that the kingdom will be in good hands, no matter what.”
“All right,” he said. “You have my word. We’ll stay married until after the Vittra are defeated, and if something happens to you, I will rule the kingdom to the best of my ability.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“Good.” Tove dropped his arm and stared straight ahead. “Now that that’s out of the way, I suppose we should get ready. We have the Chancellor’s funeral at eleven.”
“I haven’t prepared my speech yet.” I sighed and Tove stood up. “What should I say about him?”
“Well, if you plan to say anything nice, you’re going to have to lie,” Tove muttered as he walked over to his closet.
“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”
“You didn’t hear what he wanted to do to you,” Tove said, talking loudly to be heard from the closet. “That man was a menace to our society.”
I sat on the bed, listening to my husband gather his clothes before he went to shower, and despite everything that was still going on, I felt as if an immense weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
I still had no idea how to stop the Vittra and save everyone I cared about, and I had to write a eulogy for the Chancellor. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like there might be life after this. If I could defeat the King, if I could save us, there might really be something to live for.
TWENTY
orm
Willa wore all black, but the hem of her skirt only came to the middle of her thigh. At least she had classed it up a little for the funeral. My eulogy had gone over well, or about as well as a eulogy could go over. Nobody had cried for the Chancellor, and that seemed sad to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to cry for him either.
His funeral had been held in one of the larger meeting rooms in the palace. Black flowers and black candles decorated the room. I wasn’t sure who had planned the funeral, but it looked like a Goth kid at a Cure concert had thrown up here.
After they took the Chancellor away to bury him in the palace cemetery, most of us stayed behind. He didn’t have any family or friends, and I wasn’t entirely sure how he got elected in the first place.
The mood was decidedly somber, but I didn’t think that actually had much to do with the funeral. All the guests in attendance were muttering, whispering, huddled in corners talking quietly, and they kept glancing at me. I heard the word “painting” floating through the air like a breeze.
I stood off to the side of the room, talking mostly with Willa and Tove. Ordinarily, any of the royals would be eager to make some kind of small talk with me, but today they all avoided me. Which was just as well. I didn’t have much I wanted to say to any of them.
“When is it polite for us to leave?” Willa asked, swirling her champagne around in her glass. I think she’d already had a couple glasses more than she should have, and she hiccupped daintily before covering her mouth with her hand. “Excuse me.”
“I think we’ve been here long enough.” Tove scanned the room, which had already thinned out. His mother and father hadn’t been able to make it at all, and my mother could barely move, so she was still on bed rest.
“Whenever is fine with me,” I said.
“Good.” Willa set her glass on a nearby table, some of the bubbly pink liquid sloshing over the top. She looped her arm through mine, more to steady herself, and we left the room.
“Well, that went great.” I sighed, plucking a black flower from my hair as we went down the hall.
“Really?” Tove asked. “Because I thought it went horribly.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Oh.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked beside me. “It could’ve been worse, I guess.”
“You should’ve drunk more,” Willa said to me. “That’s how I made it through that thing. And you’re lucky you’re my best friend, or I wouldn’t have gone at all.”
“You need to start doing more stuff like this, Willa,” I told her. “You’re so good at handling people, and someday you might need to do it officially.”
“Nope, that’s your job.” She smiled. “I lucked out. I’m free to be the naughty drunk friend.”
I tried to argue with Willa about the merits of being a good Trylle citizen. She schmoozed much better than I ever could, and she was a great ally, when she put her mind to it. But right now she was too tipsy to see reason in anything.
She was giggling at something I’d said when we reached the rotunda. Garrett was coming down the stairs, but he stopped halfway when he saw us. His hair was a mess, his shirt was untucked, and his eyes were red-rimmed.
As soon as his eyes met mine, I knew.
“Elora,” I breathed.
“Wendy, I’m sorry,” Garrett said, his voice thick with tears, and he shook his head.
I knew he wasn’t lying, but I had to see it for myself. I pulled my arm from Willa’s and lifted my black gown so I could race up the stairs. Garrett tried to reach out for me, but I ran past him. I didn’t slow at all, not until I got to my mother’s room.
She lay utterly still in bed, her body little more than a skeleton. The sheets were pulled up to her chest, and her hands were folded neatly over her stomach. Even her hair had been brushed and smoothed, shimmering silver around her. Garrett had arranged her the way she would’ve wanted him to.
I knelt down next to her bed. I wasn’t sure why, except I felt compelled to be near her. I took her hand, cold and stiff in my own, and that was when it hit me. Like a wave of despair I hadn’t even known I was capable of, I began to sob, burying my face in the blankets beside her.
I hadn’t expected to feel this much. Her death felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under me. Epic blackness stretched on forever to catch me.
There were things her death would signify, consequences I wasn’t ready for, but I didn’t even think about that. Not at first.
I clung to her, sobbing, because I was a daughter who had lost her mother. Despite our rocky relationship, she did love me, and I did love her. She was the only person who knew what it was like to be Queen, to give me advice, to shepherd me into this world, and she was gone.
I allowed myself an afternoon to really feel the loss, to feel the new hole that had been torn inside of me. That was all the time I had to mourn Elora, and then I had so much more I needed to do. But for that one afternoon, I let myself cry over everything we’d never been able to have, and the moments we’d shared that were worth treasuring.
Willa eventually pulled me away from Elora’s body so Garrett could begin the funeral arrangements, and she took me to Matt’s room. He hugged me and let me cry, and I’d never been more grateful for my brother. Without him, I’d feel like an orphan.
Tove stayed with me in Matt’s room, not saying anything, and eventually Duncan joined us. I sat on the floor with my back leaning against the bed, and Matt sat beside me. Willa had sobered up rather quickly, and she sat on the bed behind me, her long legs draped over the edge.
“I hate to leave you like this, but I think I should go help my father.” Willa touched my head when she stood up. “He shouldn’t be doing this alone.”
“I can help him.” I started to push myself up, but Matt put his hand on my arm.
“You can help tomorrow,” Matt said. “You’re going to have a lot to do. Today, you can be sad.”
“Matt’s right,” Willa said. “I can handle this for now.�
�
“All right.” I settled back down and wiped my eyes. “We need to keep this to ourselves if we can. Keep her death quiet, and hold off on the funeral for as long as possible. I don’t want the Vittra King to find out.”
“He will eventually,” Willa said gently.
“I know.” I rested my elbows on my knees and turned to Tove. “How long do I have until I’m Queen?”
“Three days,” Tove said. He leaned back against Matt’s dresser, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Then somebody has to be coroneted.”
“So we have three days.” I let out a deep breath, my mind racing with all the things that had to be done.
“We’ll keep this quiet,” Duncan said. “You can arrange a private funeral.”
“We can’t keep the death of the Queen secret forever,” I said. “We have to begin to prepare now.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Willa offered me an apologetic smile. “Take care, okay?”
“Of course.” I nodded absently.
She gave Matt a quick kiss before leaving. Duncan came over and crouched down in front of me. His dark eyes were sympathetic, but I saw a fierce determination in them too.
“What do you need me to do, Princess?” Duncan asked.
“Duncan, not now,” Matt said sternly. “Wendy just lost her mother. She’s not in the right frame of mind.”
“I don’t have time to get in the right frame of mind,” I said. “We have three days before I’m Queen. If we’re lucky, we have four or five days until Oren comes to claim his prize. I’ve already taken too much time crying over Elora’s death. When this is all over with, I can mourn her. But now I need to work.”
“I should tell Thomas,” Tove said. “He needs to have the trackers ready.”
I nodded. “When Willa gets back, she needs to talk to the refugees from Oslinna. I’m sure some of them will want to fight against the Vittra that killed their families and destroyed their town.”
“What are you going to do?” Tove asked.
“I still have to find a way to stop the King,” I said, and I looked up at Duncan. “And Duncan’s going to help me.”
Trylle Page 68
