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There was a longing in his words, a dishonourable glint in his eyes that she knew made him suffer. Even though she was mad at him, she didn’t want anyone that she cared about to feel pain. She took a deep breath and then nodded, making her way out of the crowded dining hall to the gardens where she had once kissed Gideon Blacksteel without question.

The wind was bitter on her skin, and the crunching snow under her boots made her shiver even more with each step that she took. Even the winter roses were hiding from the cold, sad and crumpled against one another. They walked in silence for a few moments, making Emara squirm under her fleece cloak, which was doing all it could to warm her. Gideon guided her to a small wooden bench that had a memorial plaque on it, brushed by gold paint, and they took a seat. She had seen a few of these benches on her travels around the gardens, in memory of the fallen. It didn’t feel right to sit on them, but she took Gideon’s lead. She had witnessed a few hunters sit by them and pray, asking the Gods to protect their brethren on the Otherside.

Gideon’s eyes found hers immediately. “I just want to start by saying I am incredibly sorry for this morning.” His gaze didn’t falter, and she knew he meant his apology. “I should never have come to your room in that state.” He lowered his eyes shamefully. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t expect you to forgive me for any of it, but I had to apologise to you again, even if you don’t want to talk to me. I am truly sorry.”

Emara looked up at him through her dark lashes, and she could have sworn he flinched.

“I was in no state to have that kind of conversation last night.” His jaw slanted as he pondered over a thought. “I think we desperately needed a conversation, maybe just not like that.”

“No, not like that,” she whispered, feeling the full sadness of her heart for what they once had. It had been quick and fast, like falling in love at first sight.

“I am sorry for taking the Resurrection Stone from your room. It had been in your family's possession, and it was wrong of me to take it from you,” he declared. “You were right in what you said last night; if my father told me to steal the Fae king’s crown, I would do it. Because I swore an oath to obey. No matter how wrong it may feel, it is how I am conditioned—to obey him.” His shoulders shrunk and vulnerability coasted on his face. “That is not something I am proud of, believe me.” He looked away from her eyes, casting his gaze out to the storm of snow that looked to be headed in their direction. “I just wish things were different.”

“Me too,” she whispered again. “But they are not.”

“I know.” His gaze found hers and a sorrow like the loss of a loved one pushed its way into his features. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

She let out a long breath. “Gideon, I have forgiven you for taking the stone. It seems small amongst everything else going on.”

He seemed surprised to hear it. “Thank you.” A smile warmed his lips only to disappear within seconds. “I would love to pick up where we left off, walking the gardens together, reading together, training together. But only if you want to.”

She shook her head, her heart disagreeing with her thoughts and what she was about to say. “I can’t do that, Gideon.”

Hurt spilled into his eyes, but he controlled it like the warrior he was. His lips parted and then closed.

“If I let myself do that, then I believe my heart will disobey my head and I will fall in love with you.” She found herself instantly wishing she had never said the words out loud.

“Then why can’t you stop listening to your head and follow your heart?” His dark brows pulled over his pine eyes. He looked so agonisingly beautiful.

She sucked in a breath.

“Because I will be an empress who must use her head instead of her heart.” She swallowed, allowing the silence to last long enough for her to shift uncomfortably. It was the first time she had really acknowledged her blood proudly, and it terrified her. “Because I am not the girl you once walked these gardens with, I am not the same girl who accepted your white rose, and I am not the girl who waited for you to come back from the hunt. I am not that girl, and I realise now that fate was always going to promise me a different path. As much as I would like to be the girl you want, I am not.”

“You are that girl to me.” He shifted closer to her, trying to reach out to her. “Elemental heir or not, you are that girl.”

Shaking her head, she took in his face. “I have changed, Gideon. In such a short time, I have changed. I now have a darkness inside me and I fear it will never leave. The girl who you fell for was as pure as the rose you gave to her. But I can’t pretend. I am not her anymore. I have a hollowness that makes me feel vengeance. I am scared of myself, and I am petrified that my magic could make me something unrecognisable.”

“That’s not true.” His voice shook with disbelief. “Your magic won’t do that to you. You are good through and through. You are full of the light.”

Recently, with the thoughts she was having, she wasn’t sure of that anymore. Would the old Emara want revenge so roasting hot that she wasn’t scared to burn a whole kingdom to the ground to find who was responsible for the Uplift?

The old Emara wouldn’t have wanted the destruction. She would have found justice another way. But now? The flames of her untamed magic licked the inside of her bones, waiting to devour.

“I cannot go back to how we once were Gideon. I am sorry.”

Gideon looked like he was fighting with a demon inside of his mind before he spoke. “Emara, we have options. Time. I will go to my father and beg him not to push for the alliance to be with Torin but with me.”

That struck a chord.

Emara let out a harsh laugh. “If you think that will solve anything, you will be bitterly disappointed. Even the thought of an arranged marriage makes my blood boil.”

He took some time before saying, “I won’t give up on you.”

Her nose stung as she tried to hold back the emotion crawling up her throat. “Perhaps you should.”

“I believe fate brought us together, Emara. I know it did. That first night I saw you, standing in your demolished bathroom, I knew I was supposed to find you. I feel it every time I look at the moon because she has the same magic you do, the same magic we have. Don’t give up on us,” he begged.

Emara let the monster that lived deep down in her darkness and sorrow speak. She let the friend who was grieving, the granddaughter who had not mourned properly, and the person who was broken, speak. “Sometimes fate brings two people together only to rip them apart.”