When Evret emerged a moment later, he looked startled to find her there, but he covered it easily. He was not as good as some of the guards at disguising his emotions, but he had gotten better at it over the years.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” she said, “about this afternoon.”
Shaking his head, Evret shut Winter’s door, then headed down the hall to his own chambers.
Levana followed, wringing her hands. “Evret?”
“It doesn’t matter.” The lights flickered on as he entered the room and started taking off his boots. “Was there something you needed?”
Levana took in the bedroom she’d rarely seen in the light. Evret had never bothered to bring much personality into it. After ten years, the room still felt like a guest suite.
“I wanted to ask you why … why did you agree to marry me?”
He froze, briefly, before kicking the second boot across the room. “What do you mean?”
“In hindsight, I sometimes wonder. It seems that back then I had to coerce you for every kiss. Every moment we spent together you were fighting me. At the time I was so sure it was just you being … a gentleman. Honorable. Loyal to … Solstice’s memory. But now I’m not so sure.”
With a heavy sigh, Evret sank into a cushioned chair. “We don’t have to talk about this now. What’s done is done.”
“But I want to know why. Why did you say yes, if you … if you didn’t love me. And you didn’t want to be royalty. And you didn’t care if Winter was a princess. Why say yes?”
She could see him struggling through a long silence, before he shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Of course you had a choice. If you didn’t love me, you should have said no.”
He laughed humorlessly, leaning his head against the chair’s backrest. “No, I couldn’t have. You made it very clear you weren’t going to let me say no. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you would have just let me walk away.”
Levana opened her mouth to say that, yes, of course, she would have allowed him his freedom, if that’s what he’d truly wanted.
But the words didn’t come.
She remembered that morning still so clearly. Her blood on the sheets. The taste of sour berries. The bittersweet memory of his caresses, knowing that he’d been hers for one night, and yet never hers at all.
No.
No, she would not have let him walk away.
She shuddered, her gaze dropping to the ground.
What a stupid child she’d been.
“At first I’d thought it was a game to you,” Evret continued when it was clear he’d made his point. “Like it was with your sister. Trying to get me to want you like that. I thought you’d grow tired of me, and eventually you’d leave me alone.” A line formed between his eyebrows. “But when you told me to marry you, I realized it was already too late. I didn’t know what you would do if I fought you—really fought you. You’re very good at your manipulations—you were even back then—and I knew I couldn’t resist if you forced me to accept. And I worried that if I kept fighting, you might … you could do something rash.”
“What did you think I was going to do?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, Levana. Have me arrested? Or executed?”
She laughed, although it wasn’t funny. “Executed for what?”
His jaw tightened. “Think about it. You could have told anyone that I’d forced myself on you, or threatened you, or—anything. You could have said anything, and it would be my word against yours, and we both know I would lose. I couldn’t risk it. Not with Winter. I couldn’t let you ruin what little I had left.”
Levana stumbled backward as if she’d been struck. “I would never have done that to you.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” He was practically yelling now, and she hated it. He almost never yelled. “You held all the power. You’ve always held all the power. It’s so exhausting to fight you all the time. So I just went along with it. At least being your husband allowed Winter and me some protection. Not much, but…” He clenched his teeth, looking like he regretted telling her so much, and then shook his head. His tone quieted. “I figured that eventually you would tire of me, and I would take Winter far away from here, and it would be over.”
Levana’s heart throbbed. “It’s been almost ten years.”
“I know.”
“And now? Are you still waiting for it to be over?”
His expression softened. The anger was gone, replaced with something infuriatingly kind, though his words were heartbreakingly cruel. “Are you still waiting for me to fall in love with you?”
She braced herself, and nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.
His brow wrinkled. With sadness. With regret. “I’m sorry, Levana. I’m so sorry.”
“No. Don’t say that. I know that you lo—that you care about me. You’re the only one who’s ever cared about me. Ever since … on my sixteenth birthday, you were the only one to give me a gift, remember?” She fished the pendant from beneath her collar. “I still wear it, all the time. Because of you. Because I love you, and I know…” She gulped, trying in vain to swallow back her mounting sobs. “I know it means you love me too. You always have. Please.”
His eyes were wet too. Filled, not with love, but remorse.