‘Because it reminded me that now isn’t the time to relax,’ he snapped. ‘It’s the middle of the day and I should—’
‘If it was only that, you wouldn’t be so angry. And you’re angry, Cassius, I can see it in your eyes.’
He took a breath, fighting down the heat gathering inside him. ‘It’s nothing you did,’ he forced out calmly. ‘Please, Inara, I have to—’
‘Why?’ There was something fierce in her gaze now, a silver flame, burning brightly. ‘You’re angry at something. Is it me? Because this is the second time you’ve walked away from me without a word.’
He tried to find the calmness inside him, the patience he needed to control his emotions.
‘I’m not angry,’ he said, knowing even as he said it that it was a lie. Because he could feel that heat inside him growing ever hotter, burning more furiously, and all the denying in the world wasn’t going to make it go away.
Inara’s mouth softened, the crease between her brows deepening. ‘You’d forgotten, hadn’t you? You’d forgotten for a moment that you were a king and something made you remember.’
She was right. He wasn’t sure how she knew, how she could see that in him, but it was true.
Before he could say a word, she stepped forward, raising a hand to his cheek, her palm warm against his skin. ‘It’s okay, Cassius. You can have a few moments of forgetfulness. Surely that’s allowed?’
His hand came up before he could stop it, circling her wrist and pulling that comforting palm away. ‘No,’ he said woodenly. ‘It isn’t allowed. I can’t forget, Inara. I can’t ever forget. Self-indulgence and selfishness got my family killed and it will taint my reign if I let it. Remembering what happened and who I was is the only way I can make sure that my father’s legacy remains intact.’
‘I understand why that’s important to you. But your father is gone... And so is your brother. You are the King. So shouldn’t your reign be your legacy rather than theirs?’
Something echoed inside him, like a bell tolling, but he ignored it, the flames of his deep, formless anger burning too high.
‘Yes, why not?’ He released her wrist, bitterness tingeing the words. ‘A legacy of parties and drunkenness and sex. Of a petty prince indulging his own petulant resentment. A legacy of selfishness. Yes, that’s exactly what Aveiras needs, a king who puts his own emotions before the needs of his subjects.’
She stared at him as if he were a stranger. ‘Is that really how you see yourself? How you saw yourself back then?’
‘It’s not how I see myself,’ he spat. ‘It’s how I was.’
Her chin came up, the silver flame flickering in her eyes, as if she was preparing to challenge him. ‘No, that’s not what you were. What you were was a man who helped a lost and desperate teenager. Who protected her. Who visited her and showed an interest in her that no one ever had. A man who discussed things with her, laughed with her, made her feel good about herself for the first time in her life. A man who, when his family died, stepped up and took responsibility even though he didn’t need to.’
The ferocity in her gaze gripped him, held him still. ‘That’s the kind of man you were, Cassius. Yes, you had failings, didn’t we all? But punishing yourself for yours isn’t going to give you the legacy you’re trying to build. It’ll only end up tearing you apart.’
Her words felt like arrows, striking him in unprotected parts of his body, causing pain wherever they landed.
‘You’re wrong.’ His voice was finally stripped of all emotion. ‘I was never that man. That man was a lie.’
Her gaze flickered then, as if the flame in it had finally burned out. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I was too young, too innocent. That I didn’t know my own feelings. But nothing will change the way I saw you then, Cassius, and nothing is going to change the way I feel now. You’re still that man underneath. I know you are. And, whether you like it or not, that man was a good person.’
She took a little breath. ‘I...loved that man.’
It felt as though she’d struck him with a punch direct to the gut, stealing all his air.
‘What?’ His voice echoed strangely in his head.
She just looked at him, the truth laid bare in her face, in her eyes. A truth that had probably been there all this time. He’d just never seen it.
You never wanted to see it, either.
She stared at him a second longer, then lifted her hand once more and touched his cheek briefly.
Then she turned and, not stopping even to grab her shoes, went out of the room. This time leaving him to be the one who was alone.