Throne of the Fallen

CAMILLA’S NERVES TWISTED into intricate knots as she took his dagger, wondering how they’d gotten here, stuck in this tangled web of deceit. She went over the events of the last several weeks, searching for a different choice she could have made.

Why hadn’t she tried talking to him then?

She knew. Of course. Fear.

Her father had told her repeatedly that fear was the one force that drove all darkness in the world. Love, on the other hand, was the greatest source of power. Love strengthened the weakest, gave them a ferocity that fear never offered. Mothers defended their children. Partners, friends, good people stared down evil, becoming something to be feared.

Because of love.

Yet love wasn’t the path Camilla had chosen. She’d succumbed to that same mortal trap.

Change was terrifying. The unknown always was. It was the very essence of its being unknown that made it so. The familiar was comforting even when it wasn’t necessarily good.

She recognized instantly what she’d seen in the prince’s face.

Knew it intimately herself.

Fear flashed in Envy’s eyes. It hadn’t been from the strange rumble of warning cracking the ground under their feet. His fear had meant something else. A look so unsettling she realized she’d never seen it on his face before. And Camilla wondered if he knew. Even if he hadn’t admitted it to himself.

Maybe he was afraid of being right. Of what it would mean. Perhaps this was one last game he was playing with her, the game of denial. To acknowledge the truth meant accepting change. Neither one of them seemed ready for it.

Change was terrifying but necessary. Especially now.

She wished she could save him from any hurt she’d unintentionally caused. She hadn’t known what he would come to mean to her. Not really.

Somehow, along the way, she’d grown attached to the game-playing deviant. And she saw, through all his bluster and lies of omission, that he felt the same for her. Camilla hadn’t believed it was real. She should have. It was there in his actions all along.

Against all odds, despite his rules, Envy liked her.

Not her body. But her mind, her passions. He liked her ruthless, savage side as much as her soft, artistic side. He’d seen her kill a man and he’d seen her walk before a king. There wasn’t anything she could do to shock or disgust him.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it?

Taking a deep breath, she slashed her palm with the blade, ignoring its greedy glow to place her palm on the pillar. Delaying the inevitable only made it worse.

And things were about to become worse enough as it was.

Her attention moved to the Pillars, to the glittering sheet of light that had burst between them, giving off a soft, otherworldly hum. Jasmine, gardenia, wisteria, and musk. Night and its many pleasures. The scents of the Wild Court.

Once they walked through that portal, everything would change.

Envy hadn’t looked at the portal, still wouldn’t.

He’d been watching her.

His expression was carefully blank. But he was no fool. He solved impossible puzzles, and it looked like he’d finally pieced the mystery of her together.

She wondered if this was the one riddle he’d never wanted to solve.

But it was too late.

Before she lost her nerve, Camilla grabbed Envy’s hand and stepped through the portal, emerging directly into the Unseelie King’s stronghold.

They’d won the game, but Camilla couldn’t help but fear she’d just lost so much more.