Page 46 of This Shattered Star

“Your allies are there to support you when need be. Through any means necessary.” He dropped his hand, but didn’t back away. “My faith is placed on you getting through all three trials. And it is rarely misplaced.” Kinder words forI am never wrong. AndI always get what I want.“I saw it in his eyes. Jareth’s son was never going to drop you. You’re quite stubborn, you know.” A small smile. “He needed a way to convince you to jump. And he found one.”

With a watery breath, I allowed one more tear to fall before pulling myself back together, like winding up a ball of yarn that had unraveled too far. Maverick silently waited, with far more patience than everyone gave him credit for.

How many times had we done this, between these four walls? Unravel. Wait. Ravel again.

Too many.

He saw right through the torrential storm of emotions I kept on a tight leash. Rage broke every rope I tied around its neck. Most of it slipped free only around him, after all. It made sense for him to pick them apart. He was too observant not to.

A brutal realization clicked into place as my thoughts cleared enough to replay his words. I braced my palms flat against his desk to keep me upright. “You instilled the ally rule because of me.” A selfish thought. An absurd accusation, at that. But not entirely impossible.

“I will not lie by saying that the decision was made without taking your safety into consideration,” he admitted, gracefully making his way around his desk to pull out the cushioned, high-backed chair that let out a creak under his weight as he settled into it. He toyed with the sole pen on his desk, weaving and flipping it through his fingers. “However, that is not the sole reason as to why I instilled the rule. The number ofsuspected people vying against the crown is painstakingly high as of late. It is as I said. They insist on banding together, so I merely respected their wishes.” He slammed the pen back down abruptly, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin.

I swallowed thickly. No one could know about my role in this. Not even my own allies.

But there were smart people out there. Kodhan being one of them. They—he—would connect the dots eventually, even if neither of us parted with the truth beyond these walls.

“How many?”How many traitors to the crown did he place alongside me in the trials?

Cogs visibly turned in that calculated mind of his. “Enough.”

Humming absentmindedly, I pushed off his desk with a wince, walking two fingers along the spines of his books as I limped towards the warmth of the crackling hearth. Hundreds of them lined the wall, spotless and in pristine condition. Though none were of particular interest to me.War strategy manual, history textbook, another war manual but for soldier tactics…Each one proved terribly dull and far less intriguing than the last.

I plucked a loose thread poking out from the back of the loveseat, and asked, if only to occupy my mind from rehashing the last few hours, “What are you going to do about them?”

“The same thing I always do.”

Find and kill each one of them. Alongside those they were connected to.

“And you want me to… help you?”

“You might be able to gain more information than I can.”

I shook my head in bewilderment. “No one would ever tellmeanything.”

“You would be surprised at what can be revealed when tensions are high.”

The flames crackled in the silence that followed.

A burning urge to tell him about the countless names Diana had given me resurfaced for the thousandth time. And stars, I wanted to. Even with allies, I couldn’t predict how well I’d fare in the next two trials.

Diana couldn’t kill me if the remaining trials did it for her. Though at least I’d have told him the truth. She would be executed for her wrongdoings, without the grace of a trial.

But there was always the off-chance Maverick would kill me for my admission. Tear a hole through my chest where I stood, robbing me of the chance to win. To obtain any magic of my own.

It was too late now. I’d waited too long. They werehispeople, after all. Admitting guilt after the first murder was one thing. Admitting to several, over the course of many years, was another thing entirely.

His hand fell onto my shoulder so suddenly that I startled, leg screaming in protest. I hadn’t even heard him stand from his desk.

“Something troubles you,” he remarked. His thumb traced the column of my throat as his onyx eyes bore into mine, reading my very soul. It didn’t matter how many walls I built. He tore them all down with little effort.

Many things troubled me.

My lips parted to tell him everything. To tell him of the first night Diana had shunned me from the only place protecting me after my parents’ deaths. Of the number of times I’d retched next to the bodies whose lives I’d taken, drenched in blood that wasn’t my own. That I’d had to pierce the first man I killed so many times because I kept missing anything vital. That his cries of pain were among many that still haunted me in my sleep. I wanted to tell him of every life I’d taken, and I wanted to tell him just how much I hated Diana for tainting my soul instead of her own.

I wanted to tell him that I wished things were fair. That I deserved better, at least once.

But instead, I evaded his gaze, pressing my lips firmly shut.