“Royal library,” I snip. “And great. Go enjoy that walk somewhere else.”
His brow furrows with a frown. “Are you...mad at me?”
The fact that he even has to ask...
A bitter laugh pops from my mouth. “Mad? No, of course not. Why would I be mad?” I reply breezily. “Now, I’d like you to stop following me and go do...whatever it is you were doing here before I sneezed and leave me alone.”
His footsteps falter. “Auren.”
I ignore him, but that’s never stopped him before.
“Auren,” he says again, tone insistent, an edge of impatience cutting through.
I stop in my tracks but don’t turn to face him. “What?”
Slade comes up to my side so that every word he speaks paints my lips with his air. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
The breath that comes in my chest is shaken, because my heart can’t take this constant disappointment, this circle of hope and distrust.
My eyes flick left to the bookcase, and I stare at the bindings, like I need to fasten my gaze onto something solid. Onto something other than him.
“Midas was always different in private,” I hear myself say, my lips feeling cold in this forbidding place. “In public, he was the king, and he acted like it. It was necessary, he said. It was necessary for him to marry Malina. Necessary to start calling me his favored gold-touched saddle. Necessary for appearances to use me like a shiny trophy to dangle in front of others. No matter that I was in love with him when he dragged me across the kingdoms and brought me to that horrible icy place.”
I shiver and cross my arms around me, and my ribbons cross right along with them, as if they’re trying to ward off the chill. Too bad this one is inside of me.
Slade is quiet. Listening. Like he’s hearing every word but looking at them in a hundred different directions.
“I put up with all of it because he was different in private,” I admit. “He said just enough of the right things. When we were alone, when there were no other eyes around, he whispered pretty words and swore grand promises.”
One of my ribbons slinks down to wrap around my palm, twining around my fingers like it’s giving my hand a squeeze of comfort.
“I don’t understand.” He sounds almost...at a loss. Which is impossible. Slade Ravinger is always sure of himself.
“I told you to prove it to me, and yet you sat there at that table and you were a king.”
He sucks in a breath. Like he’s trying to pull in my truth. Trying to taste it, understand it.
I turn to look at him, ribbons dropping to my feet, chin lifted, my expression unyielding. “Pretty promises in private, and the uncaring king in public.” I shake my head, letting him see the disappointed look on my face. “I’ve been down that road before, Slade. I won’t do it again. I asked you to prove it, and you didn’t.”
He expels a breath and turns away, shoving a hand through his thick black hair. “Fuck.”
I turn to leave, but faster than I can track, he somehow steps in front of me and blocks my way before I can take a second step. I try to turn back the other way instead, but that’s a mistake, because he stops my turn by jutting out an arm to cut me off.
Now I’m stuck, back against the bookshelf, his hands braced on the shelves on either side of me. He takes another step forward into me, even though there’s no space for it. His body crowds mine, making a gasp balk from my mouth.
“Move,” I tell him.
“No,” he quickly says with a shake of his head. “Let me explain.”
I scoff and roll my eyes, because how many times have I heard that? I don’t want to be that person anymore, that rug for everyone to walk all over.
“Things with Midas and I are precarious at best,” Slade tells me, his fixed eyes like emeralds, glinting unnaturally in the dark.
“You hate him. You’ve made that perfectly clear, so why not just kill him?” I ask, because I’m honestly curious. I don’t think his level of loathing has been a farce.
Slade’s eyes go shuttered. “Believe it or not, I don’t go around killing without thought. He’s a king. If I were to end him, especially using my magic, there would be implications to that, which would set off a chain of events. He rules people, and right now, he’s making plays to rule even more. But sometimes, if you cut off the head of a monster, two more crop up.”
Realization dawns. “You’re worried that if Midas weren’t king, someone even worse would take his place?”