But, then again, what if he chose to spare me?
I hated him. I hated him for loving a thief and murderer above me. I hated him for choosing a single night of euphoria over the friendship I’d thought we’d built. I hated him for letting her go free, even if that meant risking my life. And I hated him for using me, for playing my affections, so that I could rule not with him, but for him, in the future.
I hated him, sure.
But enough to kill him?
My heart lurched.
“If I choose to kill the prince, that guarantees that my life will be spared, correct?”
“Indeed.”
I numbered the alternative situations in my mind, as if somehow that would make the choice lest daunting. Less permanent. 1) I sever the bargain, but Evander spares me. That would leave me free and Evander dead. 2) I spare Evander, but he severs the bargain. Then Evander would be free, and I’d be dead. 3) We both spare each other, choosing to lose what is most dear to us and go through with the marriage. 4) We both sever the bargain, and we both get to live, while keeping what is most dear to us.
My heart raced. I didn’t want to die. Perhaps I’d felt numb this morning, but mostly because I knew I’d have to live in fear of waking up with that horrid pale face grinning at me above my bed, a dagger in hand. Perhaps already lodged in my chest. I didn’t want to die, not yet. Could I bring myself to kill him if it guaranteed sparing myself? He’d already proven that my life wasn’t the most important thing to him. If he’d really cared about my wellbeing, he never would have let her go. Never would have risked it.
He was going to choose to kill me, I realized.
Because there was something out there more important to him than my life and safety. Something the committee had surely caught onto.
Her.
He could kill me and have her.
My pulsed raced, the walls of the box crowding in on me.
Be reasonable, Ellie. Evander could have killed me at any point since our betrothal, I reminded myself.
But this was different. His life was on the line this time. And he knew I hated him. Why would he risk his own life, when surely he was convinced I would choose to kill him?
“Have you made your decision?” the voice asked.
“I…um…”
“Take your time.”
But I didn’t want to take my time. Because the longer I spent in the darkness, alone, hidden from the outside world, protected from the judgment of my parents’ knowing eyes… I knew where the darkness would take me. It was all part of the trial.
The longer I spent in the darkness, the brighter the obvious path shone. It was Evander’s fault I was in this position to begin with. He and his family had forced me into a betrothal I hadn’t wanted. He’d ruined my life, soiled my dreams. Then he’d had the audacity to steal my heart, all while his belonged to another.
If he died, it would be his own doing. Not mine.
And even if I spared him, if we both spared each other, what would I be giving up?
That which you hold most precious.
It hit me then. What I’d be giving up.
No. He couldn’t have it. Evander could take my heart and rip it to shreds, but he couldn’t have that.
Objectively speaking, the correct choice, the rational choice, would be to sever the bargain with Evander. Because if we both chose to forfeit the bargain, then we’d both be spared. We could both have what we wanted.
Surely Evander would realize that. He was rash, sure. But he wasn’t stupid. He would expect me to make the rational choice, and he would act in turn.
“I’ve made my decision,” I whispered.
And then I chose.
The voice hesitated. “Is that your final answer?”
The box opened, and light poured in, blinding my eyes. I searched the compartment for the owner of the voice, but my eyes weren’t adjusting quickly enough. Everything had gone a bright orange, and before I could squint to make out the creature’s face, a guard grabbed my arm and pulled me from the box. The door slammed behind us, though something was off.
I realized the crowd wasn’t cheering. I turned to my left, only to see a shadow standing outside the other box. Evander. I couldn’t make out his face. What would I find there? Had he condemned me to death?
Why wasn’t the crowd cheering?
My limbs began to shake.
What had I done?
The king’s voice sounded, and I clung to every word. “The Heir and his Betrothed have each made their decisions.” He must have explained the rules to the crowd while we were in the boxes. My eyes started to make out more details, and there was a grim look on the king’s face. My heart sank. That could mean only one thing.
But then his grimace softened at the edges. “Each has decided to put away their utmost desires for the other. Both the Heir and his Betrothed chose to spare one another’s lives.”
My heart lifted from my chest.
The crowd roared.
