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I fear for those who make her feel nothing. No remorse. No compassion. No worry for her stained soul.
“To the Ordinaries,” she says cheerily. “And every unjust death. May they be avenged.”
We are so very free in this moment—laughing together like old times and living like life never got in the way. Cheeks flushed and duties forgotten, we sit here as brothers who bear no titles.
I just like the two of you being so… carefree. Together.”
“Just like old times.” “Just like old times,”
“I missed you, Brother.” Kitt sighs. “I miss us.” “I’m right here, Kitty.” My smile is soft. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”
It feels wrong to touch something so blindingly pure with such bloody hands. My soul is stained with death and drenched in the regret of it. I never asked for this brutality, this darkness. It was asked of me.
“I admire the rose and its thorns. Even the prettiest things can bite.”
I dream of Adena, as I always do. It is unpleasant, as it always is.
The memory of her death resurfaces, swirling in and out of focus. A collage of every way in which I should have saved her plays behind my heavy eyelids.
It’s fitting that I look like my old self, feel like the girl just trying to survive one sunrise at a time.
Before I was the Silver Savior, the king killer, the queen-to-be, I was Paedyn Gray.
Everywhere I looked, my past stared back.
So much of myself lives within these streets, both the broken and the resilient.
Adena lives here, on every warm breeze and colorful banner. Her name is written across the stones I step on, and I let her soft presence lead me back home.
I see Ilya for what it is—shambles.
This is not the home I left.
Even in the dull light, her vibrance exudes from the space.
It’s as if I’d expected her to be sitting there, waiting for me to return from a day of thieving. As if she would phase through our fort and come bounding toward me in search of a sticky bun. As if I didn’t hold Adena’s dying body in my lap or see her blood gushing between my fingers with every glance at my incapable hands.
She was waiting for me to come home.
But she never made it home.
“She talked about you all the time. And then she died for simply knowing you.”
“It should have been me. Not her.”
Dena. She was my A. But she was his Dena.
“I’m so, so sorry. About Hera. About…” A tear slips down my cheek. “About Dena. I couldn’t save her. Why didn’t I save her?”
“This is all my fault.” I
“She redecorated for me. To surprise me when I got back from the Trials.”
Thats so fucking saddd
“I… I couldn’t do anything but watch her die.”
“You were there for her when I couldn’t be,” I say firmly. “And that was enough.”
“You can’t blame me—or Blair—more than I already have.”
Two great loves were left behind, and both hug what remains of her close to their heart.
“Because you love her!”
“Perhaps more than anything.”
He wishes to hear that his marriage to Paedyn won’t change anything between us. And for our sake, I will pretend that it hasn’t already.
Reminds me of when I had to do the same for you. And don’t roll your eyes; I know you loved it.
Maybe he wants you as badly as I do,
Your Cocky Bastard
Omggg
Just know that if I could do it all over again, I would have run from that poppy field with you when we had the chance.
(We need to find you a hobby that does not include counting my freckles. How many are there again? Twenty-three?)
Your Pae
I love themm
We could still make a run for it, you know. Head back out onto the Shallows. Find Astrum and keep sailing. Just say the word.
I hold his gaze because that is all I’m allowed. He holds mine because it is the only piece of me he can have.
you are all bark and no bite, Azer.
You think I would not beg to run away with you? My duty may be to the king, but my heart, Pae, is wherever you are.
So if you leave, I will follow. If you stay, I will bow. Because there has never been a moment when you did not own the only piece of me that mattered—loving you made me matter. And I ache to be full again.
Omg thats so fucking cute
I’ve never witnessed beauty look so content in its brokenness.
he pleads for me. Unflinchingly, he lays every mask at my feet.
(Oh, I can bite. You only need to ask, darling.)
On paper, you really do sound like a poet. Or a fool. I won’t let you ruin yourself for me.
I want you to be my ruin, remember?
