Page 39 of The Stolen Crown

I sneered. “I’ve heard tales of how viciously you tried to reach Livia after she was taken. Nearly killed one of your own attendants as I understand it. In my experience, that does not happen unless you have a deep hatred that burns to the surface.”

“You’re hardly being fair. Bo was fine. And frankly, you really have no idea what I thought when Livie was missing and have no right to judge me for what you assume I did. My actions and words came because she is more like a sister, and I thought I had lost her. Not because I resented sea fae.”

“ ‘Resented.’ What a careful word you’ve chosen.” I leaned closer. “You forget, I do know you, Vicious. In ways others do not. I’ve seen the raw truth you keep buried beneath those smiles of yours.”

“What do you mean?”

Three hells, was I truly broaching the past? “When Erik took Livia, you know that is not the first time we crossed paths.”

Mira’s breath caught, her chin dropped. “You mean—”

“After the war. Yes.”

“I…I wasn’t certain if I was making it up or remembering correctly.”

I flashed my teeth. “I’ll never forget that knife in your hand, the dead flesh at your feet.”

“Tait, I was a child, and you don’t know my family’s connection to…” Mira’s eyes closed, like she might be steeling herself against her next words. “The connection to Davorin. You call him the dark fae, but I try to speak his name, try to take the fear out of it.”

Gods, perhaps I ought to have steeled myself. The dead earth fae’s name sent a sick twist to my lower gut.

I tightened my grip on the helm and leaned closer to the princess. “You despised him, and I believe you. But you know it was my house who joined with him. Who brought battle. Who helped create the fears of which you speak. I’ve no doubt you hate us all for bringing him to your gates.”

Mira’s eyes widened in a bit of stun. After a few breaths, she curled her lip, drawing near me until our noses nearly touched. “You’re a fraud.”

My brow furrowed. “What?”

“You, the one who is meant to see the true heart.” Mira shook her head, a shadow piercing the brightness in her eyes. “But you see nothing, Heartwalker.”

For the first time, she spoke my true name. The sound of it was…wrong on her tongue. I hated it.

“So, that is the problem.” Mira sighed, straightened her shoulders, and was already repositioning her familiar, polite smile back in place. “You believe me to be hateful toward you because of the war. Understandable. I know Bloodsinger believed the same of Livia. This might’ve been cleared up if you’d simply spoken to me about your concerns, but no matter, we shall do so now.” She lifted her chin and held out one hand. “Hello, I’m Krasmira, but you may call me Mira. I do not despise sea fae. In fact, the more I learn of your folk, the more I admire them. I suggest we place wars in the past and move forward.”

Her hand remained there, petite, perfect, and all I could do was stare at her fingers. The dainty rings she wore, the shape of her wrists.

A storm toiled within me. To forget the past was all I’d ever wanted to do. But scars ran deep, the sort that shaped me into a man of violence and brutality in the shadows. When I was lost to the lust for pain, it did not matter who fell beneath my hands.

Perhaps one day it could be Mira.

I was not a kind man, but if I could offer her one bit of kindness, it would be freedom from me and the only way I was taught to love.

No doubt, the brute I could be would rear its head against her, and I would not allow anything to dim the vibrancy that radiated from Mira Sekundär. Even if she hated me in the end.

Teeth gritted, I spoke. Harsh and direct but every bit truthful. “I want nothing but peace. Near you, I do not have peace. Is that reason enough for you to leave me be?”

She gasped as though I’d struck her.

Tears that had not been there now welled at the rims of her bright eyes. An ache cut through me like a broken shard of glass across flesh, but I tightened my jaw to keep the softer explanation dancing on my tongue from spilling out.

Mira gave a trembling nod. “Yes. Thank you for your honesty. I’ll bother you no longer.”

I did not watch her leave. My eyes closed to the sound of her retreating footsteps. When the deck fell to the thick silence, my only companion the worsening wind of the sea, I let my brow fall to the edge of the helm.

It was better this way. For her sake. For everyone.

12

The Illusionist