see all of my fear, all of my sadness flung back at me in ghost light.
He knows who I am. He knows I can’t promise.
And still he’s asking.
“You can’t do this to me,” Richard fills my silence. “It’s not fair. I spent hours waiting, not knowing . . .”
“Not fair?” Everything I’ve endured for the past twenty-four hours sweeps back over me. The emptiness of the cell. The horror of Guinevere’s face. The fear of drowning. The anger that I’m not what I was.
And the nightmare—that’s taken all of my feelings, shifted them into the wrong gear.
“Not fair ?” My words rage in the dying light. “I justsaved your life! I’ve given you everything and you want me to give up more?”
Richard rakes anxious fingers through his hair. His face is crumpled, frowning. “That’s not what I meant—”
“Oh really? Then what did you mean?” My insides are snarl and heat.
Before—when I was power and maelstrom—I always had to bite back my anger. The same way I had to hold back my kisses. For fear of harming Richard in my passion. There’s nothing in my way now. I can unleash all my fury and the Faery light won’t even flicker.
The king doesn’t answer. His face is hidden in his hands.
“I gave up everything for a ghost! You’re never here, Richard. If you’re not at Parliament then you’re at some meeting with Lord Winfred or a hundred different people! But never me!
“Every single day I have to watch the Frithemaeg fly in and out. I have to remember that I can’t. I can’t and you’re gone and it just feels like too much!”
Richard lets out a hot, even breath. “I know things have been crazy. This is the way it has to be, Embers. Just for a while, until Lights-down is firmly established andwe have more support in Parliament.”
“And then what? After Lights-down there’s the Reforestation Bill. And after that there will be something else. There will always be something else!”
“We’re creating a new world.” He sounds so solid, unshaken by my verbal cuts. Like he’s too tired to fight. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I wanted us , Richard. Do you realize we haven’t spent an entire day together since I took you to the London Eye? That was over two months ago!”
“Emrys,” his voice turns more serious. “This is my job. My duty. I promised Herne. I gave him my word. For us. So we could be together.”
His words, what he’s saying should make sense. I know this in my head, but my emotions are a snake inside me. Coiling tight, crowding out all logic. I want to make him angry. I want him to fight. Yell. Anything. Anything except sitting there with exhausted, glazed eyes.
So I asked the question I know will cut, dig deep. That kernel of a question Kieran planted in the corner of my mind.
“Is this worth it?”
Richard stares. It takes him a moment to find his voice.It’s still steady. Still flat. “You don’t mean that.”
“Maybe I do! I didn’t give up everything for this!” My arm sweeps through the room. “Not Lights-down or Buckingham or any of it. I gave up my magic for us. For you .”
He closes his eyes. My light is almost out. The Lights-down darkness—so utter and pure—closes in around us.
“You’re not even fighting me.” I can’t tell if I’m yelling or sobbing. Or both. “It’s like you don’t even care.”
“Don’t say that.” His breath is a knife—sharp, edged with pain. “Don’t ever say that.”
“Then do something! Fight me!”
“I can’t!” His yell explodes hot inside my chest.
The Faery light I thought was dead seizes the room. Angry white—bright as toothaches and sunstruck snow—culls out everything: Richard’s knotted jaw and tight, tortured fists, the blood braiding down my arm, the distance between us. We’re both frozen, watching with black-hole eyes as the inlíhte blazes through its second life. Fading . . .
It seems my anger isn’t as safe to express as I thought.
Darkness
He knows who I am. He knows I can’t promise.
And still he’s asking.
“You can’t do this to me,” Richard fills my silence. “It’s not fair. I spent hours waiting, not knowing . . .”
“Not fair?” Everything I’ve endured for the past twenty-four hours sweeps back over me. The emptiness of the cell. The horror of Guinevere’s face. The fear of drowning. The anger that I’m not what I was.
And the nightmare—that’s taken all of my feelings, shifted them into the wrong gear.
“Not fair ?” My words rage in the dying light. “I justsaved your life! I’ve given you everything and you want me to give up more?”
Richard rakes anxious fingers through his hair. His face is crumpled, frowning. “That’s not what I meant—”
“Oh really? Then what did you mean?” My insides are snarl and heat.
Before—when I was power and maelstrom—I always had to bite back my anger. The same way I had to hold back my kisses. For fear of harming Richard in my passion. There’s nothing in my way now. I can unleash all my fury and the Faery light won’t even flicker.
The king doesn’t answer. His face is hidden in his hands.
“I gave up everything for a ghost! You’re never here, Richard. If you’re not at Parliament then you’re at some meeting with Lord Winfred or a hundred different people! But never me!
“Every single day I have to watch the Frithemaeg fly in and out. I have to remember that I can’t. I can’t and you’re gone and it just feels like too much!”
Richard lets out a hot, even breath. “I know things have been crazy. This is the way it has to be, Embers. Just for a while, until Lights-down is firmly established andwe have more support in Parliament.”
“And then what? After Lights-down there’s the Reforestation Bill. And after that there will be something else. There will always be something else!”
“We’re creating a new world.” He sounds so solid, unshaken by my verbal cuts. Like he’s too tired to fight. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I wanted us , Richard. Do you realize we haven’t spent an entire day together since I took you to the London Eye? That was over two months ago!”
“Emrys,” his voice turns more serious. “This is my job. My duty. I promised Herne. I gave him my word. For us. So we could be together.”
His words, what he’s saying should make sense. I know this in my head, but my emotions are a snake inside me. Coiling tight, crowding out all logic. I want to make him angry. I want him to fight. Yell. Anything. Anything except sitting there with exhausted, glazed eyes.
So I asked the question I know will cut, dig deep. That kernel of a question Kieran planted in the corner of my mind.
“Is this worth it?”
Richard stares. It takes him a moment to find his voice.It’s still steady. Still flat. “You don’t mean that.”
“Maybe I do! I didn’t give up everything for this!” My arm sweeps through the room. “Not Lights-down or Buckingham or any of it. I gave up my magic for us. For you .”
He closes his eyes. My light is almost out. The Lights-down darkness—so utter and pure—closes in around us.
“You’re not even fighting me.” I can’t tell if I’m yelling or sobbing. Or both. “It’s like you don’t even care.”
“Don’t say that.” His breath is a knife—sharp, edged with pain. “Don’t ever say that.”
“Then do something! Fight me!”
“I can’t!” His yell explodes hot inside my chest.
The Faery light I thought was dead seizes the room. Angry white—bright as toothaches and sunstruck snow—culls out everything: Richard’s knotted jaw and tight, tortured fists, the blood braiding down my arm, the distance between us. We’re both frozen, watching with black-hole eyes as the inlíhte blazes through its second life. Fading . . .
It seems my anger isn’t as safe to express as I thought.
Darkness
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