Chapter Eighteen

The first thing that greets me when I open my eyes is the high ceiling of the room they've made an impromptu hospital. I groan and sit up, and when I do, a blanket falls off me. No other bed is taken; it's just me.

Well, it's not just me.

Beside my bed, Frederick sits in a wooden chair he must've brought from somewhere else. When I sit up, he darts into action, grabbing me by the shoulders and helping to steady me. "Easy, now," he whispers, his eyebrows creased with concern.

"What… what happened?"

"You fell unconscious once we crossed into the city. I got there as quick as I could, Rey, once I heard the guards say they saw something golden flying toward the city. I didn't know it was you. I thought… well, I assumed we were under attack."

"It wasn't me," I whisper with a sigh. I stare hard into Frederick's chest; he's standing in front of me, his hands still holding onto my shoulders. It's not the worst feeling. "That was Invictis."

Frederick tenses when I say that. "Invictis? But why… if that was Invictis, why didn't he—"

"Kill me?" I finish his question as he pulls away from me, probably figuring I'm steady enough to be able to sit up on my own without his help. "Kill all of you too, while he's at it? I wondered that, too. He said he wanted me at my best. He wants to meet at the southern cliff just outside the city when I'm ready."

He makes a thoughtful sound as he rubs his chin in thought. "Interesting. I would have assumed it would take the quickest route to end this—but nothing about these woes have been quick. I believe it might see a challenge in you. Perhaps it enjoys it."

I suddenly remember being stabbed with a magical blade of light, and I reach for the bottom hem of my bloody shirt and hoist it up. My body is still a little weak, but I feel better—and once I see my stomach, I understand why.

The wound is healed. Like, completely healed and scarred-over. It's like it happened ages ago. The sight of the scar on my abdomen doesn't make sense in my head. "How long was I out?"

"A little under a day," Frederick answers me as he quickly averts his gaze from my lifted shirt. "You were covered in blood. We searched for wounds but we couldn't find any."

I lightly run my fingers over the new scar on my stomach, wondering if it was Invictis who healed me. If he's a weapon, healing shouldn't be something he's capable of. There's no way I healed that fast on my own, even with empress-level healing skills. It had to be magical.

With my legs hanging off the edge of the bed, I let go of my shirt, and Frederick is slow in bringing his stare back to me. "He almost killed me," I whisper, remembering the feeling of that searing blade cutting into me. The sheer, sharp, hot agony that came with it.

"Well, I, for one, am glad Invictis failed." Frederick smiles at me after that, acting sheepish, like he's embarrassed or something. Or maybe he's remembering that silly kiss.

Maybe… maybe that kiss wasn't so silly after all.

Everything that happened comes flooding back to me, pushing down on me in that moment. My shoulders slump, and I can't keep a clear field of vision. Everything blurs when I remember Krotas, my mom, and how I lost her. How Invictis took her from me.

"Rey?" Frederick falls to his knees before me, and he sets his hands on my legs gingerly. "Are you all right? What happened?" He sounds so earnest, like he really does care—which is almost ironic, given the fact that, not so long ago, I was certain he didn't give a shit about me at all and only wanted to use me.

I've never been one to want to cling to anybody. I was never someone who needed to feel a man's arms around me in order to be secure. But something takes hold of me right then, and it makes me move off the bed and throw my arms over his shoulders. It makes me fall into his lap and bury my face against him, hold onto him like he's my lifeline.

"My mom," I whisper against his neck, trying my damnedest to fight the tears that threaten to fall. "He killed my mom."

Frederick is taken aback by my closeness at first; I can feel his shock in the way his entire body tenses up. But after a few seconds tick by, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close to him, our bodies entwined on the floor. "Your mother? But—"

"Krotas. Krotas was my mom. She was pregnant with me when this all started. She was alone when she gave birth to me. I saw the memory. She could open portals between worlds, Frederick. It's how she met my dad. She thought she was doing the right thing by leaving me with my dad and severing the connection between our worlds. She didn't think…" I squeeze my eyes shut and bury myself in the crook of his neck. "She didn't know the piece of Invictis she was supposed to keep safe followed me there."

Frederick is gentle when he pulls his head away from me to get a good look at me. "Krotas? You're…" Whatever he was going to say, he doesn't. The words die on his tongue, maybe because he's looking at me in a new light.

I'm not a nobody. I never was a nobody. I'm the daughter of the empress of Magnysia, and if Invictis was never unleashed, odds are Frederick and I would have spent a lot of time together.

"Aurelia," I whisper, not liking the sudden silence. "It's what she named me."

An incredulous, soft grin grows on his face when he repeats my full name, "Aurelia. Aurelia of Magnysia." The way he's looking at me is too intense, but I'm still on his lap, trapped between his legs, his hands resting on my sides now instead of my back.

We're too close. This is… too intimate of a moment.

In an effort to try to break the intensity in the air, I say, "I saw your mom, right after she had you. I think… I think seeing you made Krotas want a child of her own. She lived for so long, but she never let herself love."

It hurts to say that. What kind of life is it if you never love anyone? And caring for her people, for Fred and the others who were under her rule; it's not the same. She's still above them. When it came to my dad, she was only his equal. That's what love should be.

"Sometimes love is an indulgence not everyone can afford," Frederick whispers as he pulls his hands off my sides. In the next moment those hands are on either side of my face, cupping my cheeks. "Take me, for instance. Growing up with the woes, most everyone my age died. They weren't able to make it to Laconia in time. I spent my whole life chasing after my father's ideals, his research, knowing that, even if I could not make life better for myself, I could do it for the children. For the ones born years after the woes took hold on the land. For Prim and all of the other children who had no one else."

At the mention of Prim, I close my eyes and remember the cheery life that bubbled out of her, even though she was an orphan, even though she had nothing to be happy about. Frederick is right. Sometimes you don't fight for yourself. Sometimes you do it for someone else, for those who need you.

"And then you came," Frederick goes on. "You came and changed everything. I never had hope for another life. I never thought I would have the luxury of falling in love."

My eyelids crack open as what he's saying dawns on me. He's not… no. No way. He can't be saying what I think he's saying. I am in no way equipped to deal with things like this. Not with life or death or any emotions that are this complicated.

Since apparently both of us are inept as hell when it comes to things like this, Frederick has to say it plainly: "You. What I mean to say is I—"

Though his hands still cup my face, I dart forward and press my hand over his mouth to shut him up. I don't… I can't hear him say it. I just can't. Not right now. Not when so much relies on me.

He doesn't pull away from me, but he does give me a strange look, and I feel his mouth frowning against the palm of my hand. The hands he has cupped on my face don't fall away; he keeps them there, as if waiting for me to be the one to pull away completely.

"Not now," I whisper. "Just not… not now."

I tell him not now, but honestly, I don't know if I'll ever be ready, if I'll ever want to hear it. I don't… things are just too damned complicated right now. Everything is a mess. Now isn't the time to deal with whatever this is.

Frederick and I both drop our hands at the same time, though neither one of us gets up. We stare at each other, the air so thick with the things he still wants to say, the things I won't let him put words to.

I open my mouth, though I don't know what I'm supposed to say in a situation like this, but for whatever reason, I finally notice we aren't alone. My peripherals spot someone standing three feet away, and I nearly jump out of my skin when I see him.

Frederick is startled as well. "What—" The word escapes him before he realizes who it is: his dad. "What are you… how long have you been there?" He stumbles over his words as we both get up, and it's actually kind of cute, along with the embarrassed flush in his cheeks.

"Long enough," Fred muses.

"So you heard—"

Fred cuts off his son with a wave of his hand, "Yes, yes, Rey is my lady's daughter. I thought we all knew that by now?"

Frederick glances at me before saying, "What? No! No, we did not."

"Ah, well, terribly sorry, my son, but I figured it was obvious." Fred's shoulders go up and down once. This next part is said to me: "I came to see what was taking so long. My son was supposed to see if you were awake and bring you out if you were. Apologies. I had no idea the two of you were so utterly awkward."

"Awkward?" I echo. "I'm not awkward."

Fred's brows rise. "Are you certain? What I saw looked very awkward. Very. As in, the most awkward scene I've ever been witness to—which, I am aware, doesn't say much due to the fact that I was trapped in Acadia's dungeon for years, but—"

To stop his dad from rambling, Frederick mutters, "She's awake."

"Right. Yes, of course. We will get you some food, and then we will move on from this whole awkward scene. Our job isn't done yet. You two can continue… whatever that was after Laconia is no longer subject to the whims of an ancient weapon." Frederick doesn't say a word more as he turns on his heel and leaves, obviously intending for us to follow him.

And we do, but not before Frederick and I share a look. His face is no longer flushed; he's back to normal. Sort of. The way he's looking at me makes me feel like, if I somehow manage to beat Invictis, we will continue that conversation whether I want to or not.

Fuck. It should go without saying I don't do well with feelings and shit. Never had time for them before. Never cared to. Now… literally everything is changing and I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with it.

Frederick takes the tiniest step toward me, his voice nothing more than a whisper when he says, "I suppose we should go after him, otherwise he might drag us both out of here by our ears." What is probably meant as a joke is said seriously, the gravity of what he was seconds from telling me earlier still with us.

"Yeah," I whisper. "You're right. We should go."

It's not easy to, which is why it takes us another twenty or so seconds to turn and start walking. I stopped Frederick just in time, but not soon enough. Not nearly soon enough. It's obvious as hell what he was going to say, and I just don't know how to handle that kind of information.

Thank him? Tell him I don't know how I feel but I wouldn't mind kissing him again?

Ugh. See? Real feelings are stupid and complicated and right now, nothing makes sense.