“But you had no human compassion.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I didn’t. Which made being friends with her after the compassion set in really hard. So hard I . . . I just wanted to forget it happened.”

“Funny, I’d kinda like to forget it, too.” I rubbed my head as if I could erase the last hour of my life.

David laughed. It was so nice to hear that laugh again. “Perhaps we can all just move past it, then.”

I lowered my hand to my side and nodded up at the king. “I’m not sure Mike will feel the same way.”

Reality moved back in to this vortex we’d stepped in then, and everything crappy my life had become in the last week surfaced again. David breathed out through his nose, accepting that fact and many others that had changed his life lately, too. “I have to go.”

“David, wait.” I went to grab him, but he tugged away.

“Just don’t, Ara. You know about Emily now, and it’s very kind of you to say you forgive me, but…” He shook his head. “Nothing has changed. I still hate you. I—”

“Well, I need to discuss something else with you.”

“Then it had better be some royal matter.”

“It is a royal matter.”

“Then make it quick.”

“It’s about the king and queen.”

His eyes were on something other than me, but I caught the slightest glimpse of a half smile as he shook his head. “Very well. What is it?”

“I just wanted you to know that . . . Jason asked me to marry him.”

“Wondered how long that would take.” He huffed, clearly not surprised.

I let silence own the moment for a second, waiting to see if he’d ask what my response was.

“I don’t need to ask, Ara,” he said, stealing that thought. “You’re not wearing a ring. Clearly, you declined.”

“For now,” I said, leaving it at that.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

I toyed nervously with the key on my necklace. “It means that . . . one day, I’ll probably say yes.”

“One day, huh?” He folded his arms again.

“If he keeps asking, and I’m still single . . . yeah.”

“Is this some kind of prompt to force me into begging you to—”

“No, David, it’s not.” I raised a hand to shut him up. “I just didn’t want you to hear it along the grapevine.”

“Then consider me informed.” He bowed, turning away.

“So, you don’t care if I marry him?” I called.

He stopped at the base of the stairs, eyeing a man in his peripheral until he passed out of sight. “Frankly, I have no opinion. I never could stop you from doing stupid things.”

“Why would it be stupid?” I walked a few steps downward. “If he loves me and I love him, why—”

“You’re right,” he said, throwing his hands up. “Guess it makes perfect sense. I hope you’re both happy.”

“That’s not what I want you to say, you know?”

“Then, what, Ara?” He turned back to face me. “Whadda you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me not to. I want you tell me that you still love me enough that, one day, even years from now, you might forgive me for what I did.”

He just laughed. “That will never happen.”

“Why not? You forgave Arietta when she betrayed her husband—with your uncle.”

I could see his eyes narrow as he calculated a response. But what could he say to that? “Well, Arietta wasn’t my wife. Had she been, she would have suffered the same fate Victor served.”

“You don’t mean that,” I called, running after him. “David, please tell me you don’t mean that.”

“Ara, just back off!” He shoved my hand off his arm. “You’ve put me in a corner here. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you don’t leave me the hell alone, I cannot be held responsible for what I might do to you.”

“So you are angry then?” I refused to step back, despite his body language warning me to move. “About the proposal?”

“God, when are you going learn, Ara?” He pushed past and headed back up the stairs.

I followed. “I’m not leaving you alone until I get some kind of communication breakthrough with you, David. You can’t just shut down and refuse to discuss things.”

“And which scroll states that law?” he asked, walking away almost faster than I could keep up.

“Not everything is about the law. Maybe it’s just wrong to end a marriage and never give the other person a chance to have their say.”

“Why should I, Ara?” He spun back, barring me with his cold stare. “You talk things through with someone when you want peace, want to sort things out. But I don’t care what you have to say. Nothing will ever make me want to forgive you. Nothing will ever make what you did okay, not on any level. We can never be friends again, Ara. We can never even be in the same room without me wanting to strangle you.”

“That’s not how you really feel.” I moved between him and the path to his room. “You want to break me down emotionally, but you won’t put your hands on me.”

“If you know that, Ara, if you’re so sure of that, then why keep pushing me?” He tried to move past me again but I blocked him. “Why torture me by giving me no way out of this conversation?”

“Because there’s no other way I can make you talk.”

“Why would you want that? Why would you want to talk when you know how much I hate you?”

“Because I’m hoping I can change your mind—hoping the David I love is still in there and that you’ll see I’m still the girl you love, that I just made a mistake.”

“That will not ever happen, Ara,” he said stiffly, and for the first time, something about the way he said that made me truly believe him.

“So, that’s just it, then?”

“Yes,” he said, his shoulders dropping with relief. “So just leave me alone and let me get on with my life, okay?”

“Fine,” I said, and watched him disappear into his bedroom, wishing I’d never come up here to talk with him. That brief moment where we spoke as equals would forever be the little piece of hope I held onto that prevented me from truly moving on. I knew that. We’d survived torture, separation, immortality and heartbreak, but I was beginning to think maybe it was time for me to admit that we couldn’t survive the damage done deeper than skin—leaving the heart scarred and unidentifiable as what it once was.

I wandered over to the windowsill to watch the night rising, and a glimmer of light, just a flash in the corner of my eye, caught my attention, stopping my footsteps. There, settled on the white oak sill was a tiny gold band, turning orange under the evening sun: my wedding band—the one David ripped from my finger.

I picked it up and angled it to the sky, catching the first star of the evening within the golden circle. All my wishes had come true with this little gold band, and it all had come undone so easily with just one mistake.

Just one night of letting my heart run free.

But, although I wished I could take back the argument I had with David, I no longer wanted to take back what I did with Jase, no longer wished it hadn’t happened. For the first time since I moved to my dad’s and started my first day of school, I felt alive and free. I knew who I was, where I belonged in the world, and I didn’t need anyone: not David, not Jase, not even my dad, to make me feel safe, or like I deserved to be here. I made mistakes, and I still had a lot of learning to do, but I was strong, and learned fast, and no matter what anyone thought of me now, I knew I deserved to be alive. And I deserved to be happy.

I turned and walked away then, taking the stairs to the second floor, back to my life, leaving the past, and the ring, behind on the windowsill where David had. I wasn’t sure anymore what tomorrow would bring, or if I’d ever talk to him again the way we had on the stairs just now, but one thing I did know was that his absence from my life would no longer make or break me. I didn’t need him anymore to know who I was. I didn’t need him anymore to be okay. I was finally free. Finally, just me.