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Alexander nodded. His voice was rough with fatigue when he said, “Your magic is strong, Your Majesty.”

The goblin king smiled a little. “Yes. Now it is strong. It was not before.”

“Thank you.”

“How badly did Javethai hurt you?” Gytha asked Alexander.

“I did not count the beatings. I forgot to care about the hurt. Is it really pain if it doesn’t trouble me?” Alexander struggled up to sit with his elbows on his knees. His voice was so soft and weary that Gytha barely heard him. “If I ceased to care about myself entirely, then she had no power over me. No threat of pain, no twist of magic, nothing she could do was worth forfeiting my honor.”

Gytha said quietly, “Icare about your pain.”

He hesitated before he looked up. “You don’t have to marry me, Gytha,” he said softly. “You don’t even have to feel guilty about not marrying me. The queen is dead. You have done more for me than anyone in centuries. You owe me nothing except, perhaps, resentment and anger for what I put you through.”

Gytha frowned. His eyes were shadowed with exhaustion so deep that she wondered whether he really understood that he was free. He certainly didn’t understand the stubborn affection and hope that flared, hot and bright, when she looked at him.

After a moment, Eshkeshken stood. “Take your time figuring out what you will do with your freedom. I must attend my queen.” He strode out of the room, his steps quick and sure on the icy floor.

Silence fell over them, and Alexander looked down at his hands loose in his lap.

“I don’t resent you, Alexander,” Gytha said. “I wish you would stop saying that I should. I would be happy to be married to you, and I would strive to make you happy, too.”

He looked up at her again, his face alight with desperate longing. “Even though I ruined your life?”

She took his hands in hers again, feeling simultaneously too bold and not bold enough. His fingers were icy. “You didn’t, and even if you did, it was worth it.”

He bowed his head and shuddered. “I’m sorry.” His words were choked. “I vowed to marry you, and if you accept me, I will gladly do so. But I don’t want to trap you the way I was trapped.”

Goblin voices in the hallways made a rough, muffled background clamor. Gytha felt the sympathy in her heart shift subtly with this new understanding; she had not wanted to trap him, but she had not fully realized how he might feel that Gythawas also trapped, and how that would horrify him. He would not want to be like Javethai in any way, even by chance.

“If anything, I trapped you,” Gytha said. “But you’re free now.”

His hands tightened on hers, but he did not look up. She could feel his subtle trembling, and she thought it was likely more from exhaustion than cold, for the air in this little alcove the goblins had constructed was warm enough for their bare hands to be relatively comfortable.

Gytha said softly, “If you could have anything, what would it be?”

The silence drew out. At last Alexander said, his voice rough with emotion, “I would… I would want to know that when I die, someone remembers that I lived. That I existed.”

This seemed so little, after what he had endured. Perhaps this was what he had wished for when he had been captive, what he had thought of when he was alone and tormented. He had once said he longed for love, for family, but he did not say this. Maybe he could not remember that dream, or did not dare voice it.

Gytha hesitated, but when he said nothing else, she said, “I will never forget you, Alexander.”

He sucked in a short, sharp breath. “Thank you. That is enough.”

“What if it isn’t enough for me?” Gytha said, her heart thumping at her own boldness.

He stared at their hands, still clasped together. She could feel his tension.

She said, “It will take time to know each other better, but I think we could find our way to happiness. I’m willing to try.”

His hands tightened on hers. “You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

At last he met her eyes. He took a deep breath and held her gaze before nodding. “I…I had not even thought to hope you would ever love me until now. But I already love you.”

The hope in Gytha’s heart sparked into joy. “Would it hurt you too much if I gave you a hug?”

He blinked and then, cautiously, he shifted closer to put his arms around her. Tentatively, she returned the embrace. He shuddered and then relaxed a little. Gytha’s head was close to his, and she murmured, “It has been a long time since anyone touched you kindly, isn’t it?”