Zander
Iknew Romeria was hiding something from me.
I study her cloaked back and her woven hair, once a regal crown atop her head, now an unkempt mess. She seems so delicate, hunched and shivering, her damp clothes clinging to her body.
All along, she reeked of deception, and I knew. I challenged her on it, daily.
But I never imagined this. How could I?
Between her poisonous blood and these supposed caster affinities, she has the power to destroy Islor. And if she does, if she causes the death of so many innocents … it will have been my fault.
I am a king without a throne, unable to make hard decisions.
She shudders, and the thought to pull her to me, to offer warmth, loiters like a regret I can’t shake.
But I remain where I am.