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Even if it does.

Instead, I step back from him. “I’m not going home with you.”

I know staying with him would be the safer option, but Memnon is still the man who nearly killed a room full of my friends to force me to marry him, and he’s still the man who made me release my memories against my will, and I’m still rabidly angry at him. I’d sooner stay with a pack of hungry wolves than with him.

Memnon nods pensively, not bothering to fight me on this. Gone is the victorious man from the night before.

His eyes drop to my stomach, and they linger there for several long seconds. The room is so quiet that I catch a single whispered word across our bond.

Child.

I place a hand on my lower abdomen, swallowing. I don’t know what to say aboutthat. It’s one more tragedy between us.

“I cannot believe a child—our child—existed at all,” he says softly, “and that I must simultaneously celebrate and mourn their life.”

I draw in a shuddering breath. This feels so unresolved, and a deep, ancient part of me wants to close the distance between us and grieve this loss together. But while I might’ve lived and died as Roxilana, that’s not who I am anymore, and Memnon is no longer my husband. So I wait for the moment to pass and for the sorcerer to tuck away the pain in his eyes.

Eventually the moment does pass, and Memnon turns to leave. He pauses when his eyes catch on something.

I follow his gaze to the unzipped duffel bag I took from his house. My notebooks are spilling out from it.

“You didn’t truly burn them,” I say. I can’t decide if that’s an accusation or a question.

His look softens as it returns to me. “I know I can be heartless, but even when I thought the worst of you, I never sought to destroy all that you are just to get what I want.”

The silence in the room is so, so loud.

“You could’ve fooled me,” I eventually say.

“I did fool you,” he agrees. “You believed them gone.”

“That doesn’t make you any less cruel.” He still got what he wanted.

Now Memnon does reach out and touch me. He cups my jaw, tilting my head up to his. “What if I told you that I feared one of your enemies would come in here—just as they have—and look through those journals? What if I told you I worried they might find some piece of information they could use against you?”

I give my head a shake. “You did it to prevent the Politia from reading them and finding something that might eliminate me as a suspect,” I argue.

“I did,” he agrees. He searches my eyes, almost willing me to understand. “Ialsodidn’t want them to read your journals.”

“Because it would prove my innocence.”

“Because the corruption in this city runs deep.”

I study him for a long moment. “You think the Politia is in on this?”

He releases my jaw. “Information can be bought from anyone, Selene. Even the authorities.”

I…I think I believe him.

“If that’s true, why didn’t you just tell me?” I could’ve easily hidden my notebooks.

“Because I also wanted vengeance on you,” Memnon says. “Gods forbid my vengeance look like protection.”

I frown, searching his face.

I hate that what he’s saying makes sense.

“Answer me truthfully,” I command him. “Was any of what you said a lie?”