Bastien reared back, aghast at the thought. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s possible,” his brother pointed out. “They didn’t kill your capacity to love. Just the love you had for Thalia.”
Bastien didn’t buy that for a minute. He had no capacity to love Merrilyn. There had been other women before her. Seven years since Thalia had been gone, and he’d never come close to caring for a woman in any meaningful way other than general fondness. He mostly chose his companions for physical satisfaction, and there was an endless supply of such. Vyronas may not be as modern in technology as the First Dimension, but it was far more advanced in its sexual freedoms.
As he pondered it, he was sure the Conclave had removed any ability for his heart to open to someone. Otherwise, it would’ve happened by now.
And because he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, he rose from the table and left his brother without another word. Bastien headed straight for the training fields where he intended to work out his frustrations on his soldiers.
He’d order ten of them to line up and take them on one at a time. He’d end up bruised and battered by the evening’s end, but it would take his mind off things.
CHAPTER 10
Thalia
It’s dusk by the time I leave Conclave Hall, and my head’s spinning. It took hours to catch me up on what happened during my seven-year absence.
Of course, this came after I cleared the air about Bastien. This was done with a simple but heartfelt apology to the members, acknowledging that I’d let my emotions rule and promising that I had them in check.
They were all very gracious, but really, they had no choice. I am the ruler now that I’m back, and they’re still walking on eggshells around me, fearing what I might levy as punishment for what they did.
But truly—and they don’t need to know this—I’m past it. My mother taught me to let go of things weighing down my spirit as they do nothing but cloud logic. I could stay stuck within my hurt and anger, or I could move on to help my people.
I’ve chosen to move on and leave behind the negative emotions.
This includes Bastien. I’ve accepted he is no more than a tool in my arsenal to defeat Ferelith.
A very powerful and probably the most important tool but nothing more than that.
Kieran waits for me outside the hall, and I’m surprised to see him. I flash a faux-evil grin. “You here to escort me to Bastien’s? Make sure I don’t shank your brother?”
Kieran chuckles. “Bastien can handle himself. I just wanted to check on you to see how your day went.”
I sigh, rolling my neck, stiff from tension and sitting at a table all day. “I’m a bit overwhelmed, but at least I feel like I have a handle on things.”
Sweeping his hand in the direction we’ll be walking, I fall into step beside him.
“I suppose you wouldn’t let me stay at your place,” I ask, bumping my shoulder against his. My memories of Kieran are warm and fond. He was like the brother I never had, especially once Bastien and I stopped being friends and started being… more.
“I would if Bastien would allow it, but he won’t. You’re his responsibility, and he takes that very seriously.”
“Responsibility or burden?” I mull out loud, hating to be a bother to anyone. I’ve always been self-sufficient.
“You would never be a burden to him,” Kieran chastises.
I scoff, hating that pinch of bitter emotion welling up inside me when I’d resolved earlier to let it go. “And yet, he sided with the Conclave to send me away. To wipe my memories. To take me out of the fight when I should have been leading the people.”
Kieran’s hand latches onto my wrist, stopping our progression, and he turns me to him. Always an affable man, his expression hardens slightly. “He sent you away because he loves you.”
“Loved,” I point out. “Past tense. And how great a love could it have been when now that I’m back, he treats me like a stranger who annoys him?”
Sighing, Kieran glances back down the street to Conclave Hall, and I can tell by his expression that he’s warring with something.
“What do you know?” I press, sensing that deep down, something significant has changed in Bastien. I’ve been pondering this relentlessly, all sorts of ideas bouncing around in my mind. Did his father’s death destroy him? Has the endless war hardened him? Or, something that makes my stomach pitch end over end—does he love someone else?
Kieran’s gaze comes back to mine, and he releases my wrist. “The Conclave didn’t explain the spell that was enacted to send you to the First Dimension?”
“No. They updated me on the war—battles and Ferelith’s magic and other affairs of state.”
Blowing out a breath, Kieran’s expression saddens. “I had hoped someone would explain it… if not the Conclave, then Bastien. But he’s few on words these days.”