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“The stories are disturbing.” Bastien scrubs a hand over his shorn hair, then rubs at the back of his neck. “And we’re spinning our wheels. The best we’re able to do is take out her soldiers when we can, but she always has more. She’s been untouchable.”

“Strength in numbers.” I pace as I ponder. “We bring the remaining royals who are pledged to me here, and we train them all together.”

“They can’t leave their cities unattended,” Bastien points out. “Not until we have a solid plan to take down Ferelith herself.”

“What about the collective wisdom of the Conclaves? Bringing together those who serve the Sorin, the D’Amuris, the Groucutt, the Baudin, and the Foss. Have they bothered to put their heads together for any length of time outside of monthly meetings?”

Bastien shakes his head. “No. But we could host them all. We have the room, although it’s a risk to take them away from their cities.”

I wave a hand, nonplussed. “The royals themselves will have enough magic, supplemented by the Scrinia. It’s worth the risk to bring all the Conclaves together.”

“I’d agree with that,” he says with an approving nod, and for the first time since returning, I don’t hear tension in his tone.

I pounce, not able to help myself and completely willing to take advantage of his transient openness. “I want to talk about the spell you used to send me away.”

“What’s there to talk about?” he asks as his eyes dull and his voice drains of emotion.

“I’m obviously angry that you did it—”

“Then I apologize from the bottom of my heart.” He turns away, dismissing me, the conversation apparently over in his mind.

“But I’m grieving too,” I exclaim. That causes him to freeze but his back remains to me. “All of those events happened seven years ago for you, but they happened yesterday for me. I just lost you yesterday, and I’m having a hard time processing this. I need to understand what happened.”

“You know what happened,” he says, finally turning to give me his full attention. His words are clipped and strained. “You saw my power leave me and go into you.”

“You mean your love,” I correct.

Bastien shrugs. “In that case, love was power.”

“And then what? You just… all of a sudden no longer loved me?”

Pain ripples over Bastien’s countenance but smooths just as quickly. “It was exactly like that.”

That’s not what I want to hear. I have to suppress stomping my foot in childish frustration. “I refuse to believe that. Not with what we had. Not with years of memories and a friendship dating back to childhood. At the very least, you should care for me as a friend. Or as your sovereign. Instead, I feel like you hate me, and I can’t reconcile that.”

“I don’t hate you,” he growls, his eyes cold and distant as he steps toward me. “But you clearly don’t understand the magnitude of that spell or the sacrifice it required. Yes, I have all those memories. I can recall any one of them with extreme clarity. I know all the things that happened between us, and none of it touches me. They happened, and yet, they didn’t. They left no lasting mark on me. In fact, I don’t think about our past at all. The last seven years, I didn’t think about you at all.”

“You’re lying,” I whisper.

Bastien takes another step and bends his head. “You have to let all that go and look to the future. I’m truly sorry that you were hurt and that you’re angry. I don’t know what else to do other than apologize, but I can’t keep going round and round with you about it.”

Wild, desperate emotion swirls within me, anger at the forefront that he won’t even try. It’s like Bastien is fading away all over again, and it makes me feel so lost and alone. I reach out, grab his arms. “I know you have to feel something for me. Love is more powerful than magic. You’re scared and not willing to push past this dead space inside you. You’d rather live half a life, and I don’t think this choice is because of the sacrifice you made and what you had to give up. I think it’s because you’re scared and a coward, and it’s so disappointing—”

My words are cut off as Bastien’s hand goes to my throat. It’s large enough to crush my windpipe if he wanted, and yet there’s absolutely no pain. He merely holds me captive and backs me across the room until I come up against the dresser. He pushes inward, and I lean back.

Bastien’s face hovers over mine, darkened with fury. His teeth clench as he murmurs words drenched in condescension. “You’re being manipulative, Thalia. It must be something you picked up in the First Dimension because my memories are clear, and I don’t remember you being this way.”


Tags: Sawyer Bennett Chronicles of the Stone Veil Fantasy