Chapter 2
y mind is oddly blank. ‘What?’ The word slips out of me, thin and useless. Jonas isn’tM making sense. Florian is dead. It was the king’s decree that he die, in payment for the loss of his own child, and I watched my parents break under the weight of losing him. Those years… that darkness… I felt his absence like a missing limb.
My breath grows shallow as my mind scrambles for something solid to
hold on to.
This has to be a lie.
Or perhaps a cruel misunderstanding – a mistake layered on top of too much grief but wrong all the same. There is no way Florian is alive. We would have known. On some level, we would have known.
Confusion creases my brow and my thoughts skitter and fracture, refusing to line up with any answer other than the one I know must be true: Jonas wants to hurt me. That is the only reason he would say such a cruel and callous thing. ‘No … No …’ I shake my head and my entire body quakes as I try to pull away, to recoil from his lies, but Jonas tightens his grip on my hand. ‘The king didn’t kill Florian when he was a baby, Rose,’ he repeats, each word slow and deliberate, talking to me as if I were a small child incapable of understanding even something simple. ‘It was a lie.’ I shake my head again. No, this is the lie. ‘No. No, that’s not possible. We were told —’ ‘You were lied to,’ he cuts in bluntly. ‘Your brother is alive,’ he says firmly. ‘William is your brother. William is Florian. Florian lives.’
The name echoes in my skull, refusing to settle, refusing to be real. My chest tightens, pressure building until it hurts to breathe.
It can’t be true. My father drank himself to death because my brother died. Florian can’t be alive. He can’t.
I yank my hand from Jonas’s grasp and wrap my arms around myself. ‘You’re wrong,’ I whisper as my feet stumble backward. ‘You have to be.’ ‘I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry you didn’t know the truth sooner.’ It’s as though the air has been sucked from my lungs. I continue to recoil, but I am barely a foot away from him when my knees buckle entirely and I collapse to the floor. A plume of dust rises on my impact, but my heart is pounding so hard that all I am aware of is the rush of blood in my ears as I fight to straighten my thoughts. And I need to straighten my thoughts. I need to make this make sense. But it doesn’t. Unless … He’s lying. He has to be. As my initial thought resonates forcefully through my mind once more, I crane my neck upwards and look him in the eye. ‘You’re lying,’ I rasp. ‘You’re lying. I don’t know why, but you are.’ Jonas’s eyes are wide and glazed as he sinks down onto the dirty floor beside me and takes my hands again. I try to pull them away, but he holds me fast and looks me dead in the eye. ‘Rose, I swear it’s true. I swear on my life.
On yours. On William’s. William is your brother. He is still alive. Please, you have to believe me.’ Burning agony consumes my chest as I struggle to draw a breath. And yet, through it all, somehow, I find that I do.
I believe him. I believe that William is my brother.
And that is utter madness.
I cover my mouth with my hand as tears stream freely down my cheeks.
All those years spent mourning a brother who never died. All those days spent longing to hold my kin and he was there in the very same city as me.
All those moments watching my parents crumble … for nothing.
Sniffing back tears, I wipe my face with the heel of my hand and look at Jonas. ‘Why did the Goddess ask you to tell me?’ My voice cracks. ‘Why didn’t she simply tell me the truth when she gifted me?’ Given how Jonas has told me what he came to say, I expect his answer to come freely and without the sense of agitation that filled him when he
arrived. And yet he stiffens slightly, that same nervousness continuing to radiate from him. ‘Jonas?’ I repeat. ‘Why did she not tell me herself?’ As soon as the words leave my lips, I suspect I already know the answer.
It’s like a knife through my ribs. This revelation is not new information to him. ‘You knew the truth? All this time?’ I whisper the words, but Jonas
flinches as if I screamed them.
His reaction is all the answer I need.
He knew.
He knew William was Florian.
My shock and anger are replaced by a whole new level of fury as I yank my hands free from his grasp and scramble away, skittering through the dust and grime on the floor. Memories of Florian doing the same on these very floorboards once more billow through my mind, and I don’t know whether I want to bat them away or pull them in closer than ever.
All I know is that I can’t forgive Jonas for this.
As I look back up at his tear-streaked face, I am filled with nothing but disgust.
This whole time. Every moment he and I spent together training and fighting side by side – hell, even kissing! – he knew that my brother was alive. My brother lived with him. Was raised by him.
Jonas called William brother while I mourned mine. ‘You bastard!’ Rage rockets through me as I lunge to my feet, the skirts of my gown rippling around me. ‘You fucking bastard!’ I scream the words, though insults are suddenly not enough. I want him to hurt like I do.
I need to cause him pain, the same pain he has inflicted on me, yet I can’t even strike out with my fist as I am too blinded by the tears that fill my eyes.
I go to scrape them away but stare at them in shock when they come away
not as liquid, but as ice.
Fuck!
I stumble, clenching my hands, trying to draw breath. Not now. Not after everything. ‘Rose …’ Jonas croaks as he stands, but I don’t look at him. I don’t want to see that counterfeit concern that will mask the face of his betrayal. Don’t need his assurances of support or discretion. They mean nothing to me now.
His words mean nothing. My heart clenches from a thousand pains, as if the
ice is as internal as it is external.
I thought the Issen magic would be gone now that the Goddess has given me back my magic. But of course it’s not. That would be too kind of the Gods.
If only the ice showed itself as a sword again instead of useless ice tears.
I wouldn’t plunge it through Jonas’s heart the way I did with Oke, but I would happily stab him a little. Gods know I would. He deserves pain for everything he kept from my family. From me.
For so many years I blamed Kyor alone for my family’s death and destruction, but Jonas could have saved my father by telling us the truth; of
that I am sure.
And for that I will never forgive him.
Anger rolls through me in waves. Why does it have to be here, in my father’s office, that I learn his life could have been spared? The Gods must be laughing at this one.
When my vision finally clears, I look back at Jonas and find him gaping at me. His eyes are wide and bulging, not from shock at the ice shards littered around me, but from something far more visceral. A blue tinge stains his lips.
His hands claw at his throat, and with a stilted breath I realise he isn’t breathing. ‘Jonas?’ I take a step towards him, but he stumbles back until he hits the wall, only to slide down it to the floor. ‘Jonas! What are you doing?’ His chest is rigid now. Not rising. His mouth is opening and closing, fighting for air, but nothing moves, and his face is turning bluer by the second.
Something other than anger fires through me. Something worse.
Fear.
He cannot breathe. He is dying. And for all my fury moments ago, I don’t want that. ‘Jonas!’ I yell again, but I can’t move. Though the Retterheld is over, apparently the deaths are not. ‘M’lady!’ The door bursts open as Summer explodes into the room with a raised saucepan, which she swings around her head. As I jerk back, I realise she is here to defend me. To beat Jonas to death with a saucepan if that’s what it takes. But rather than using her makeshift weapon, she pauses and takes in the tableau that greets her. Jonas collapsed on the floor. Me on the other side of the room.
‘I heard you shout,’ she says uncertainly, saucepan still held aloft as she takes in the tear tracks down my face, though thankfully the ice has melted. ‘I—I …’ I clear my throat. ‘I’m fine.’ Jonas gasps and inhales a huge, shuddering breath, pulling air into his starved lungs. Whatever had a grip on him has released.
I swallow hard.
Because I know what had a grip on him.
Me.
Somehow, I was the one strangling Jonas, stealing the air from his lungs, and if Summer hadn’t burst in … If she hadn’t startled me and caused me to release whatever magic was consuming me, I would have killed him. Killed one of my oldest friends.
And, apparently, my betrayer.
Florian is alive.
Florian is alive. Kay is to marry Artur. Kyor chose his father over me … And somehow, through it all, I am the gifted.
The weight of the day, of all that I have endured, presses in on me. From watching Zara plunge her sword into Grenda, to seeing Kyor’s pictures of Thea, to the shocking news of Kay’s pregnancy and William living … I stand in the house that was meant to bring me joy and a future, yet the past crushes me. How could one gifted by the Goddess be forced to suffer so much for so long? When will it end?
The answer comes to my mind far quicker than I want it to.
Never.
For someone like me, life is to be endured, not enjoyed. ‘Everything is okay,’ I say suddenly to Summer, as if Jonas isn’t heaving in grateful breaths. I even force a smile to my lips. ‘It’s fine. You can go now.’ She nods her head but doesn’t leave. Instead, she bites down on her lip. ‘Do you need me to take gladden root?’ ‘Gladden root?’ It’s not a name I’m familiar with, yet its use comes to me with a surge of magic through my ribs. ‘A memory tonic?’ ‘I have used it for masters before,’ she tells me unemotionally.
She has had her memory wiped? Repeatedly? ‘What? No!’ The words burst from me with vehemence as I whirl towards her. ‘Never. You need never do that here. Whatever you see … we’ll deal with it, together.’
I mean the words with every fibre of my being. Gladden root might be the answer to forgetting my broken heart or Jonas’s betrayal, but I know, perhaps more than any other person, that we are each the sum of our experiences.
That every pain and loss, as much as instances of joy and love, shape us into the person we are. Take those away and it unravels our very essence.
So I will live with them all. Every rotten memory. And while she’s under my roof, so will Summer. ‘You may go,’ I repeat, my tone far gentler.
This time, she dips her head, finally lowers the saucepan, and leaves.
As the door closes, I turn to see that Jonas has recovered his breath and is sitting up, though he is pushing himself away from me at the same time. I can’t blame him for that, though I have plenty else to blame him for.
Straightening to my full height, I take a step towards him. ‘All this time,’ I hiss. ‘You hid it from me. You hid him from us.’ He dips his head, too ashamed to even meet my eyes. ‘I know, I know, Rose.’ ‘How did this come to pass?’ I demand, my fists clenching as rage surges inside me once more. ‘Why did Korvane not kill him?’ ‘I don’t know. I tried to find out when I first realised who William was – I promise you, I did – but it was hard. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, and I didn’t want to endanger him.’ I scoff. I don’t doubt that whatever his fears were, they were nothing compared to what my family went through. ‘And what did you eventually find out?’ A little colour has returned to Jonas’s cheeks, but his eyes are still wary. ‘The king ordered William’s death, but someone, somehow, hid him away. It was at least a year later when he came to us, and my father simply presented him to me as a new ward.’ Anger spikes. Artur. ‘You men and your fucking fathers!’ The words explode from my mouth, but they are not the only effect of my rage. Sharp shards of ice shoot from my fingers and into the air, several of which skim Jonas’s cheeks and temples. A gasp of shock flies from both of us as blood trickles down towards his chin.
Fuck! I’m a mess. A dangerous, icy mess.
The way the power flew from me was like the ice blade that killed Oke: beyond my control. Still, I swallow the automatic apology. After all Jonas has done to me, he owes me more than those few drops of blood.
He owes me so much more.
Jonas brushes his cheek, smearing the blood in a line. He looks at me finally, yet not with the fear I was expecting, but with deep concern, and fuck him for that. ‘You need to get that power under control, Rose.’ ‘Don’t you think I know that?’ I spit, and it makes me angry all over again that he dares to act as if he cares after all his lies and deception. No, not just angry. Hurt.
I might not have always agreed with Jonas’s decisions in the Retterheld.
The way he wanted to go it alone at the end, not to mention his constantly patronising me, but I believed I could trust him. Trust that he would be there to help me if I truly needed it. Maybe even help me with Kay and his father.
But in a single moment Jonas has shown me that there is not a single person in the Wrohelm court I can trust. I was a fool to ever think otherwise. ‘I am sorry,’ Jonas says earnestly, as if a simple apology can right this awful wrong. ‘About William. About everything. Truly. I really did think about telling you sooner, but I just thought that until the trials were over, it
was safer if you didn’t know.’ ‘Safer for who?’ I snarl. ‘For you and William, of course. I didn’t know how you’d react if you discovered that Florian is alive. You were rash enough as it was. You needed to be clear-headed to get through the trials. I wanted you to survive, Rose.’ The laugh that rattles in my throat is bitter and cold. ‘Oh right. So you hid my brother from me so that I’d remain clear-headed, did you?’ I spit. ‘It wasn’t your right to keep him hidden from me, you fucking bastard!’ Magic pulses through me, but whether it’s mine, returned to me by the Goddess, or whatever the fuck is left in me from the third trial, I cannot say.
Trying to stem my panic, I take some deep breaths. Being the gifted or not, using Issen ice magic is enough to get me executed.
And I know all too well that Korvane would be delighted to have an excuse to be rid of me. ‘Does he know?’ I ask finally. ‘Does William know who he really is?’ ‘No,’ Jonas says with absolute certainty. ‘No, even I didn’t realise until I was fifteen, maybe sixteen. When I confronted my father about it, he … he
…’ Jonas’s voice dies into nothing. ‘Your fucking father,’ I mutter.
Jonas’s expression shifts. ‘He did what he thought was best, Rose. He protected him and raised William to be a good man.’
‘A good man who’s about to have his own sister as a stepmother, or near enough,’ I snarl back as I rub at my temples. ‘What?’ Jonas frowns.
A bitter laugh rattles from my throat. ‘Oh, so daddy dearest hasn’t told you? He’s to marry Acacia.’ Jonas looks genuinely shocked. ‘Surely not? He’s old enough to be her
father.’ ‘Yes, I’m aware.’ Jonas’s expression remains pinched. ‘But … why?’ he asks. ‘Why would he do such a thing? More, why would Acacia agree to such a thing?’ His expression clears in a way that causes my blood to run cold. ‘She is with child,’ he says with certainty, letting out a low groan. ‘It’s Hew’s, isn’t it? William said the pair of them had grown close. I should have known a cad like Hew would never do the honourable thing.’ I should deny it. Try to keep Kay’s reputation clean. But what is the point? If Jonas came to that conclusion so quickly, then surely others will as well.
My silence is confirmation enough. Jonas begins pacing anew. ‘This is wrong. So wrong. There must be something we can do. Where is she?’ ‘The ball, I expect.’ I shake my head. ‘I don’t know if she’s coming here.
I don’t know if she even knows where home is.’ ‘Right, well then … I’ll go back to the ball,’ Jonas says. ‘Speak to them both. My father can’t possibly think this is a good idea. Acacia is so young.
Far too young for him.’ He turns to me. ‘You should come with me. Between us, we can convince them this is madness before any hasty announcements are made.’ ‘No, I’m not going back there. I can’t. Kyor …’ I trail off, and my heart aches again as I recall the sensation of his fingers slipping from my waist.
Jonas lets out a sigh. ‘I’m sorry, Rose. I know you … cared for him. But you had to have known the relationship had an expiry date.’ My skin prickles. ‘Jonas, please do me a favour and kindly fuck off. The last thing I need is an I-told-you-so from you.’ He grimaces. ‘Right, sorry. I’ll go and speak to my father. You don’t need to panic.’ He strides the three paces to the door. Grasping the knob, he turns to me, impassioned. ‘We can fix this.’ I want to laugh at his use of we, but right now I’ll take anyone’s help if it
means stopping Artur from marrying Kay. Even if it is my greatest betrayer.
As Jonas closes the door behind him, I am left in a maelstrom of emotions.
Gods, my brother lives. It is a miracle! Florian lives, somehow, despite the king’s order for him to be killed.
And yet … if it is ever revealed that the king’s order was not obeyed, someone will surely rectify the situation immediately.
My brother lives, but to keep him that way, he can never know what I am to him.
I sit painfully alone in the gloom and watch the fire burn to ash.
