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Why can’t the bastard just assume I pressed a knife under Helenka’s nose and keep his mouth shut?He averted his face in the dusk, wings rising and falling with the deep breath he took. It did not appear to calm him down much; his fingers still moved restlessly as he lifted his hand, hesitated, and added,Did you tell him?

‘Lyn did.’ I sat down beside him and folded my legs to my chest. ‘But I told Lyn, so I suppose …’

He gave a heavy shrug.Don’t worry about it.

‘Of course I’m worrying about it, you idiot’, I said, wrinkling my nose at him. ‘You’re not making sense. It’sgoodif he realises at some point you’re not the unfeeling bastard he’s always assumed you were, isn’t it? That’s supposed to be progress?’

Creon looked like I’d twisted his balls two full rounds and called it a caress.

‘That’s a no,’ I concluded wryly. ‘Help me out here, Your Highness. You’re panicking because he finally figured out you weren’t merely slaughtering people for the fun of it for the past thirteen decades? Why for the gods’ sakes would you—’

Helenka wasn’t going to spread the word, he signed hurriedly.But if Agenor knows, the whole Golden Court will hear in a few days.And possibly half of the magical world, too.He rubbed a hand over his face, the ink scars on his fingers twisting like macabre worms in the falling darkness.I feel … naked.

I huffed a laugh. ‘I’ve never known you to be terribly troubled by nakedness.’

He shrugged.Skin is just skin.

‘Rather pretty skin, in your case.’ I studied the way his lips twitched up, a barely perceptable motion that looked like a performance for my benefit, not like an expression meeting even the lowest threshold to be counted as a smile. ‘You’re actually frightened, aren’t you?’

Terrified,he signed, a blunt honesty in the shapes of his fingers that left me lost for words for a moment. Before I could recover, he added,It’s alright. I knew it was going to happen when I told Helenka. But knowing they know what I did makes me feel like someone’s flaying me alive to take a look at what lies beneath.

Coming from one of the few people in the world who actually knew what it felt like to be flayed alive, that was enough to send a cold shiver down my spine. I considered wrapping my arms around him, then decided against it. Whatever twists of that shadowy mind were coming to the surface here, I suspected they were important; physical contact would only give him an excuse to quickly shove any accidental revelations back into the shadows.

These glimpses of vulnerability were rare enough. Better to allow them every opportunity to free themselves.

‘And why would that be so bad?’ I said, slowly, quietly. ‘If they took a look at what’s below?’

Creon closed his eyes, sagging against the wall.They stopped looking centuries ago, when they decided they knew all there was to know about me. Now that they’ve figured out the first secret, they’ll start …He hesitated.Reconsidering.

I cocked my head at him. ‘As they should.’

He flinched – actuallyflinched.

‘Why does that bother you so much?’ Gods help me. I’d known he was loath to open up about his secrets, that he’d staunchly refused any effort to soften that cold hatred of the rest of the world … but I hadn't expectedthis,ugly and bitter fear as the revelations slipped from his control. ‘You were the one who told me to stop worrying about everyone’s opinions, for hell’s sake. Not exactly a shining example you’re setting here.’

His chuckle was about as joyful as a frosty winter morning.That’s different.

‘Why?’

If they think anything unfavourable about you, at least …His fingers froze in mid-air for a single but all-telling moment.At least they would be wrong.

The sight of those signs sunk into my guts like a sip of pungent liquor, leaving a trace of burning, aching understanding behind.

Of course.

Ofcourse.

Months of playing the cruel fae murderer he didn’t even want to be, months of infuriating our allies rather than offering any hope of peace or even a meagre ceasefire … Because trying would open the door to the possibility of failure – that much I’d always gathered. Only now did I realise it was not so much the possibility of failure but rather theexpectationof it – the full and honest assumption that as soon as anyone took a closer look at whatever hid below his skin, they would inevitably conclude he was still exactly as rotten as two centuries ago.

Killing his last hope of ever being anyone else.

It wasn’t uncertainty creeping up on him, now. It was a sense of inevitable doom. And yet hehadtold Helenka, hehadsat there by that fire and waited for someone to bring up the topic … Oh, Creon.

‘I see,’ I said, my choked whisper just loud enough to rise above an orchestra of crickets outside the thin wood walls. ‘The problem is not that everyone else may hate you. It's that you still hate yourself far too much.’

I don’t.He averted his eyes, fingers clenching and unclenching in the falling darkness.I’m just trying to be realistic about myself.

I huffed a laugh. ‘Edored is more realistic about himself than you are.’