And then there was Lorne. Handsome. Funny. Kind. He pushed-pulled me with his quiet yet bossy nature. He probably was a good match, but I didn’t ask for it. And I definitely couldn’t marry someone I didn’t love. And I couldn’t be a queen.

All I wanted to do was fade into the background and have a normal life, but I’d never get to do that beside him.

“You okay?” Declan asked again.

I leaned back against the bench. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” His face had a big red mark that I was sure would be a nasty bruise by morning.

“I’ll be fine.”

He would, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. “What was that about?”

“You really need to ask?”

I shook my head. “No. I guess I don’t.” It’d been about me. I wished I could convince them that I wasn’t worth fighting over, but I didn’t think either of them would listen.

“You don’t have to, you know?”

I looked at him. “Don’t have to what?”

“Marry him. If you don’t want to.”

I blew out a long, slow breath. Declan was worrying about the wrong thing.

“Do you want to?”

It was so iced that he was even asking. “Marry Lorne? How the hell am I supposed to know? I thought I was going to die, and now suddenly I’m not. My head is spinning from all the change, and you’re asking me if I want to wear a white dress and put on a crown and rule people that are honor-bound to hate me?” I laughed and went back to watching the fountain. “No. Maybe. Kind of in theory, but also I have no fucking idea.”

Declan’s laugh was rich and deep. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like you’ve got it clear in your mind.”

I huffed a soft laugh.

Declan got quiet, and I was thankful for it. I wanted a second to catch my breath. That’s why I’d come out here. I wasn’t sure I’d even really begun to process everything that’d happen. Lorne was right, it was going to take time.

Damn it. Was Lorne always right? That was going to piss me off.

My skin started glowing, and I got up. I might’ve been weak, but I wouldn’t get stronger by sitting there.

“Can I ask you a question?” Declan asked before I could walk away.

I wanted to say no. I’d already had multiple emotional conversations, but what was one more? “Sure.”

“Where are your shoes?”