Аманда Хокинг - Torn

“Yeah, Willa found this for me actually.” Matt uncrossed his arms so he could show me the book. It was hand bound, faded leather. “It’s all the blueprints and designs for the palaces over the years.”

“Oh yeah?” I took it from him so I could leaf through the yellowing pages. It showed ornate designs of all the lush homes the royalty had lived in.

“I told Willa I was an architect, and she tracked down this book for me.” Matt moved closer to me so he could admire the drawings with me. “Her dad had it, I guess.”

I instantly felt stupid. Matt’s only real passion in life was architecture, and we lived in a luxurious palace perched on the edge of a bluff. Of course he would love this, and it hadn’t occurred to me sooner.

Matt started pointing things out to me in the drawings, telling me how ingenious they were. I nodded and sounded amazed when it seemed appropriate.

I talked to Matt a bit longer, then headed down to my room to take a break. No sooner had I flopped down on my bed than I heard a knock at my bedroom door.

Sighing, I got out of bed and threw open the door.

Then I saw Finn, standing in my bedroom doorway with his eyes the same shade of night they always were.

“Princess, I need you,” he said simply.

“Beg pardon?” I said when I found my voice.

“The Queen has found time to see you,” Finn said. “But you need to hurry.”

With that, he turned to walk down the hall. I stepped out and shut my bedroom door behind me. When Finn heard it, he slowed a bit, so I assumed I was supposed to catch up to him.

“Where is she?” I asked. I didn’t hurry to catch him, so he glanced at me. “Where am I meeting Elora?”

“I’ll take you to her,” Finn replied.

“You don’t need to. I can find her myself.”

“You’re not to be left alone.” He paused until I reached him, so I would walk next to him.

“This place is swarming with guards. I think I can manage walking down the hall to see Elora,” I told him.

“Perhaps.”

I hated that I had to walk down the halls with him and pretend like I wasn’t in love with him. The silence felt too awkward between us, so I struggled to fill it.

“So… what’s it like working with your father?” I asked.

“It’s acceptable,” Finn said, but I heard the tightness in his voice that he tried to repress.

“Acceptable?” I glanced over at him, searching for any sign that would give away how he really felt, but his face was a mask. His dark eyes stared straight ahead, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Yes. That’s an apt way to describe it.”

“Are you close to your father?” I asked, and when he didn’t answer, I went on, “You seemed close to your mother. At least, she cares a great deal for you.”

“It’s hard to be close to someone that you don’t know,” he said carefully. “My father was gone most of my childhood. When he started being around more, I had to leave for work.”

“It’s good that you get be around each other now,” I said. “You can spend some time together.”

“I could give you the same advice in regard to the Queen.” He didn’t turn to me, but I caught him looking down at me, something teasing in his eyes that played against the ice in his words.

“Your father seems much easier to know than my mother,” I countered. “He seems at least vaguely human.”

“You know that’s an insult here,” Finn reminded me. “Being human is something we strive against.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry for the way things went at the defense meeting the other day.” He’d lowered his voice, speaking in that soft, conspiratorial way he did when it was only the two of us.

“It’s not your fault. In fact, you came to my aid. I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“I don’t agree with the things they said in there.” Finn slowed to a stop in front of a heavy mahogany door. “The way they blamed you and your mother for what’s happened here. But I don’t want you to hold it against them. They’re just afraid.”

“I know.” I stood next to him, taking a deep breath. “Can I ask you something, honestly?”

“Of course,” he said, but he sounded hesitant.

“Do you think it would be better for me to go with the Vittra?” I asked. His eyes widened, and I hurried on before he could answer. “I’m not asking if it’s best for me, and I want you to put your feelings aside, whatever those may be. Would it be in the best interest of the Trylle, of all the people living here in Förening, if I went with the Vittra?”

“The fact that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for the people is exactly why they need you here.” His eyes stared deeply into mine. “You need to be here. We all need you.”

Swallowing hard, I lowered my eyes. My cheeks felt flushed, but I hated that simply talking to Finn could do this to me.

“Elora’s inside waiting,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” I nodded, and without looking at him, I opened the door and slipped inside her office.

I’d never been in the Queen’s private study before, but it was about the same as her other offices. Lots of bookshelves, a giant oak desk, and a velvet chaise lounge poised in front of the windows. A painting of Elora hung on one wall, and from the looks of the brush strokes, I’d guess it was a self-portrait.

Elora sat at her desk, a stack of papers spread out before her. She had an ivory dip pen in her hand, complete with an inkwell to dip it in, and she held it perilously over the papers, as if afraid of what she might sign.

She hadn’t lifted her head yet, and her black hair hung around her face like a curtain, so I wasn’t sure if she knew I was there.

“Elora, I need to talk to you.” I walked towards her desk.

“So I’ve been told. Spit it out. I don’t have much time today.” She looked up at me, and I almost gasped.

I’d never seen her look haggard before. Her normally flawless skin appeared to age and wrinkle overnight. She had definite creases on her forehead that hadn’t been there yesterday. Her dark eyes had gone slightly milky, like early cataracts. A streak of white hair ran down the center of her part, and I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed it when I first came in.

“Princess, really,” Elora sighed, sounding irritated. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Lo - uh, the Vittra Markis,” I stumbled. I’d almost referred to him as Loki, but I thought the familiarity would irritate her.

“I think you’ve already said quite enough on that.” She shook her head, and a drop of ink slipped off the pen onto the desk.

“I don’t think you should execute him,” I said, my voice growing stronger.

“You made your feelings perfectly clear, Princess.”

“It doesn’t make sense, policy wise,” I went on, refusing to let this go. “Killing him will only incite more Vittra attacks.”

“The Vittra aren’t going to stop whether we execute the Markis or not.”

“Exactly!” I said. “We don’t need to antagonize them. Too many people have died over this already. We don’t need to add anyone else to the death toll.”

“I can’t keep him prisoner for much longer,” Elora said. In a rare moment of honesty, her wall slipped for a minute, and I saw how truly exhausted she was.

“What I’m using to hold him is… it’s draining me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said simply, unsure how to respond to her admittance of frailty.

“It should please Your Young Majesty to know that I’m right now searching for a solution,” Elora said, sounding particularly bitter when she referred to me as Majesty.

“What are you planning to do?” I asked.