Chapter 64 The Weight of Choice

Chapter 64 The Weight of Choice
Now she spent her nights talking to him in the library. Now she knew about the child he'd been before the curse, the reckless boy who set fires trying to impress girls. Now she'd felt his guilt and his fear through the bond and understood that monsters were more complicated than the stories made them seem.

Now he'd declared war on his own court to protect her.

"Now it's more complicated," she said.

Davorin moved to the window, looking out over the courtyard where soldiers were drilling. "He's your brother. Your family. If you want to help him, I won't stop you."

"You'd just let me betray you?"

"I'd let you make your own choice." He didn't turn around. "Even if that choice destroys me."

Thessaly wanted to scream. Wanted to throw something. Wanted him to be angry so she could be angry back instead of feeling like her heart was being torn in two directions.

"The new moon is in four days," she said.

"I know."

"Malachi will attack whether I help or not."

"Probably."

"So it doesn't matter what I choose."

"It matters." Davorin finally looked at her. "Maybe not strategically. But it matters."

Because this wasn't really about military tactics or palace security. This was about who Thessaly was. Who she wanted to be. Whether she was still the broken girl who'd do anything for her family's approval, or someone else entirely.

"He says Mother wants to see me," Thessaly said. "Wants to apologize."

"Do you believe him?"

"I want to." Her voice cracked. "I want to believe that if I go home, everything will be different. That she'll finally look at me like I matter. That Malachi will stop hating me for existing. That I can be part of the family again instead of the embarrassment they hide."

"But?"

"But I've spent nineteen years wanting that, and it never happened." Thessaly's throat was tight. "The only time they remembered I exist is when they need something from me. First Malachi's freedom. Now this."

Davorin crossed back to her, stopping close enough that she could feel warmth radiating from him despite the curse. "What do you want, Thess? Not what your family wants. Not what I want. What do you want?"

That was the problem. She didn't know anymore.

A month ago, the answer would have been simple. Go home. Be with family. Get revenge on the Shadow King who destroyed everything.

But home didn't want her. Family only remembered her when it was convenient. And the Shadow King turned out to be a person with trauma and guilt and a rusty laugh that made her chest ache.

"I want to matter to someone," she whispered. "I want to be chosen. Not because I'm useful or convenient or because some prophecy says I'm supposed to be important. Just because I'm me."

"You matter to me," Davorin said quietly. "You were chosen. The second I decided I'd rather lose my throne than let them take you from me."

Thessaly looked up at him, and the intensity in his eyes made her forget how to breathe.

"Four days," she said. "I have four days to decide between you and my family."

"Three, actually. We need time to prepare defenses once you choose."

"That's not helping."

"Sorry." He almost smiled. "For what it's worth, I understand if you choose them. They're your blood. I'm just the man who destroyed your kingdom."

"Stop saying that like it's the only thing that matters."

"Isn't it?"

"No." Thessaly grabbed his hand, needing the contact. "You're also the person who sits with me at midnight because neither of us can sleep. Who told me about setting council chambers on fire. Who looks at me like I'm not broken."

The bond flared between them, and she felt his hope and fear tangling together.

"I don't want to lose you," Davorin said.

"Then give me a reason to stay that's bigger than guilt or prophecy or political necessity."

"Like what?"

Thessaly didn't know. Just knew that she was standing at a crossroads with her brother's letter in one hand and Davorin's fingers in the other, and whichever direction she chose would destroy something she couldn't get back.

The door opened. Varian again, face grim.

"Isleen's asking to see you," he said to Thessaly. "Says she needs to explain. That the letter doesn't tell the whole story."

Thessaly's stomach dropped. "What whole story?"

"She won't say. Just keeps asking for you." Varian's expression was unreadable. "Could be a trap. Could be genuine. Your call."

Thessaly looked at the letter still clutched in her other hand. At Davorin watching her with those gray eyes that had seen too much pain. At the impossible choice that kept getting more complicated.

"I'll see her," she said. "Maybe she can tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do."

Because right now, Thessaly had no idea which would hurt worse: betraying her family or betraying the man who'd chosen her over a kingdom.

And time was running out to decide.