this. She’d lose it. “My father loves her, you know, and he hates humans. But hell, she’s meaner than some ice dragonesses I know.”
“Sounds perfect for you,” I muttered. Plink, plink. Plink, plink, plunk. I really wasn’t jealous. I was just sad for him. I wished he had the courage to stand up for what he wanted. I prayed that Theon would partake in that same courage, once he discovered that it was unlikely I could bear the heir he so ardently needed. The heir that his culture demanded.
“Don’t say that.” Lethe’s eyes were warm and dark with sorrow. I remembered that particular shade of blue well. He was often filled with sorrow. “I would rather not, you know. I would rather not take a wife… not until I can love… as I loved you.”
I grimaced. Did he have to bring that up? I couldn’t help that I was the first woman in his entire life to consider his feelings; hell, even I had misled him on a grand scale. If he considered what we had to have been great and true, then his bar really was quite low, and he could easily replace me. All he needed to do was pick anyone other than Michelle Ballinger. But marrying Michelle Ballinger was like falling in love with a vampire. She’d bleed him dry. She wouldn’t even be able to help it. She’d been built that way.
“You didn’t have to marry her,” I reminded him as quietly as I could. Plink, plink, plink. “You could have waited. You didn’t have to be king yet.”
“Oh, trust me, I had to be king… and my father was demanding a queen for the sake of appearance, if nothing else.” He placed his chill hand on my arm and squeezed. “I wish I could live in the way that you recommend, Penelope. I really do. But you don’t know what it’s like to have a father who is going mad, and rapidly so. The same happened to my grandfather. I worry that the same will happen to me one day.” Lethe pursed his lips and averted his eyes for the first time since entering the room. “It would seem to be the family curse—though it did carry us this far, didn’t it?”
“Carry you where, Lethe?” I snapped, the crank going still in my hand. I’d spent my entire life taking responsibility, not only for myself, but for other people, too. Perhaps that was the reason a clique of socialites had gravitated toward me; they needed mothering like toddlers did, and I’d been unable to fail them. But I was tired of hearing it: the excuses, the complaints, the wallowing. After everything I had been through—the harpies, and leaving behind my family—twice!—and imprisonment, and abandonment by my husband… It was just enough. I was too exhausted to listen to one more whine from someone who kept allowing their life to be ruined, while I fought harder and harder every day to get back to Theon, back to happiness, back to those few simple, tranquil moments we’d been able to share.
“Carry me where?” Lethe frowned. “Carry me to the throne of Everwinter, Nell.”
I rolled my eyes. I had completely forgotten to turn the crank of the barrel organ at this point. “Carry you to the throne you never wanted? Don’t you mean that the family curse has thrust you this far, has forced you this far, like some kind of catapult? What brought you here? Really ask yourself, are you happy? Is this what you worked for, or was this some accident, some mistake? Think about it, Lethe. Do you want this life?”
Lethe gaped up at me. “No one has ever asked me that,” he confessed.
“Well, you should start to ask yourself,” I snapped. “Stop waiting for other people to ask you what you want. You live in a world where people will tell you what you want, and if you don’t fight, you’ll end up living their life—the life they’ve assigned you—not your own. If you don’t want this crown, Lethe, reject it. If you don’t want this island, reject it. There are people out there who really do want those things.” Theon flooded up into my thoughts, but I shoved him away.
“Sounds perfect for you,” I muttered. Plink, plink. Plink, plink, plunk. I really wasn’t jealous. I was just sad for him. I wished he had the courage to stand up for what he wanted. I prayed that Theon would partake in that same courage, once he discovered that it was unlikely I could bear the heir he so ardently needed. The heir that his culture demanded.
“Don’t say that.” Lethe’s eyes were warm and dark with sorrow. I remembered that particular shade of blue well. He was often filled with sorrow. “I would rather not, you know. I would rather not take a wife… not until I can love… as I loved you.”
I grimaced. Did he have to bring that up? I couldn’t help that I was the first woman in his entire life to consider his feelings; hell, even I had misled him on a grand scale. If he considered what we had to have been great and true, then his bar really was quite low, and he could easily replace me. All he needed to do was pick anyone other than Michelle Ballinger. But marrying Michelle Ballinger was like falling in love with a vampire. She’d bleed him dry. She wouldn’t even be able to help it. She’d been built that way.
“You didn’t have to marry her,” I reminded him as quietly as I could. Plink, plink, plink. “You could have waited. You didn’t have to be king yet.”
“Oh, trust me, I had to be king… and my father was demanding a queen for the sake of appearance, if nothing else.” He placed his chill hand on my arm and squeezed. “I wish I could live in the way that you recommend, Penelope. I really do. But you don’t know what it’s like to have a father who is going mad, and rapidly so. The same happened to my grandfather. I worry that the same will happen to me one day.” Lethe pursed his lips and averted his eyes for the first time since entering the room. “It would seem to be the family curse—though it did carry us this far, didn’t it?”
“Carry you where, Lethe?” I snapped, the crank going still in my hand. I’d spent my entire life taking responsibility, not only for myself, but for other people, too. Perhaps that was the reason a clique of socialites had gravitated toward me; they needed mothering like toddlers did, and I’d been unable to fail them. But I was tired of hearing it: the excuses, the complaints, the wallowing. After everything I had been through—the harpies, and leaving behind my family—twice!—and imprisonment, and abandonment by my husband… It was just enough. I was too exhausted to listen to one more whine from someone who kept allowing their life to be ruined, while I fought harder and harder every day to get back to Theon, back to happiness, back to those few simple, tranquil moments we’d been able to share.
“Carry me where?” Lethe frowned. “Carry me to the throne of Everwinter, Nell.”
I rolled my eyes. I had completely forgotten to turn the crank of the barrel organ at this point. “Carry you to the throne you never wanted? Don’t you mean that the family curse has thrust you this far, has forced you this far, like some kind of catapult? What brought you here? Really ask yourself, are you happy? Is this what you worked for, or was this some accident, some mistake? Think about it, Lethe. Do you want this life?”
Lethe gaped up at me. “No one has ever asked me that,” he confessed.
“Well, you should start to ask yourself,” I snapped. “Stop waiting for other people to ask you what you want. You live in a world where people will tell you what you want, and if you don’t fight, you’ll end up living their life—the life they’ve assigned you—not your own. If you don’t want this crown, Lethe, reject it. If you don’t want this island, reject it. There are people out there who really do want those things.” Theon flooded up into my thoughts, but I shoved him away.
Similar Books
