He spared me.
Evander spared me.
He couldn’t let me die, couldn’t risk severing the bargain.
Just like for the life of me, I couldn’t stand to forfeit his.
I’d changed my mind as soon as the dreadful words had come out of my mouth. Never in my life had I been so thankful for a second chance.
I’d have kissed the owner of the voice if he hadn’t been disembodied, just for giving me the opportunity to take it back.
I turned to look at Evander, to share the relief, but his body was rigid, his tanned face gone pale. He was looking straight ahead, and his mouth was twisted, as though he might vomit.
“Evander?” But the thundering crowd swallowed my voice. He was trembling. Why was he trembling?
What had he given up?
When the guards escorted us from the arena, they took us separately.
It was only once we reached the quiet tunnel that I realized the tips of my fingers had gone numb.
CHAPTER 48
ELLIE
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I received word that Evander had called me down to his father’s office to meet him. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to see him. Sure, I was thankful he had spared my life. But the way he had refused to look at me after the trial, the way he’d stared across the arena with an unsettling emptiness in his eyes…
When the guard escorted me to the king’s office and announced my arrival, Evander hardly acknowledged me. Instead, he rifled the papers on his father’s desk.
The king wasn’t there.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
The scribe standing next to Evander—the same one who had assisted us during the second trial—was the one who spoke up. “Lady Payne, the prince’s associates have been on the hunt for a while, ever since the erm, unfortunate misunderstanding, for a means to free you both from the bargain.” Oh, this again. My shoulders went rigid. “And we believe we have come to the conclusion that there is a definitive way to nullify the bargain.”
I was free. I was free—so why did my soul feel as though it had been turned to lead?
“You were right then,” I said, addressing Evander with the most obvious statement in the world, if only to pull him into this conversation that I shouldn’t have had to have with a stranger.
“Yes,” he said, still shuffling through the papers.
“Are you going to explain it to me or leave me to wonder?”
He glanced up at me, his usually bright green eyes pale, murky. Dark circles had formed under his eyes.
Before he could respond, the scribe interjected. I didn’t take my eyes off Evander though. “It took a great deal of searching through the ancient laws. Most of the ones that would have been useful to us have been repealed, but there happens to be a clause from the second century that we believe is solid grounds for breaking the bargain.”
“Fae curse magic cares about fae law?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “If that were the case, couldn’t the fae have just made it the law that it was legal to lie, and then they could get away with it?”
“Not quite.” The scribe coughed. “But few bargains are made in this era without a clause to allow one out of it.”
“Right, that’s why there’s a cosigner on the marriage bargains between royalty,” I said, annoyed that information I already knew was getting in between me and some answers.
“Exactly, my lady. Fortunately, your bargain with the prince specified that it was made by the authority of common fae law, and therefore can be annulled under any clause properly ratified by common fae law.”
I chewed my lip. “Is a law from the second century considered common?”
The scribe let out a weak, unsure smile. “It is, so long as it has never been annulled. This law might have been forgotten over the years, but, as far as we can tell, it was never formally repealed.”
“And what’s this law?”
Evander was the one who answered. “Your parents have the legal right to annul any marriage bargain you enter into, as long as they make their intentions clear before the couple is formally wed.”
I chewed my lip. Happy, Ellie. This was happy news. So why didn’t it feel like it? “So I can’t go back on a bargain I didn’t mean to agree to, but my parents can?” No wonder the ancient law had been forgotten in the modern era.
Evander’s fingers went rigid over the papers on his desk. “Yes.”
I scoffed. “I assume you’ve already sent a carriage for them, then.”
Evander and the scribe exchanged a knowing glance.
The scribe answered first. “His Highness wished to wait for your permission before calling your parents.”
“My permission?” I eyed Evander skeptically. There had been a moment after the third trial when my heart had again warmed at the sight of him, at the knowledge that he’d chosen to spare my life. But that warmth had not been returned.
His face was cold, impassive, bordering on—my gut twisted—resentful.
He nodded. “I’m done assuming what you want. The carriage and the messenger are prepared, should you wish to summon them. But the choice is up to you.” Those last words came out pained.
