When I dared to lift my gaze to him again, Etan looked as if he might cry. “I think you’re right. I don’t know if I could do this for the rest of my life.”

I nodded. “I’m a little tired. I might excuse myself. But I have so many things I want to ask you about this afternoon, trades to make. I think we can do a lot of good. I will always have a heart for Isolte.”

He smiled, a beautiful, defeated thing. “I know. And my heart will always live in Coroa.”

I swallowed. I couldn’t even say goodbye. I rose and gave him an acceptable curtsy before retreating to my rooms at the fastest pace I could without looking like I’d been offended by something.

I didn’t close the door behind me, and Valentina came in quickly, followed by two of the holy men. They tended to be like shadows for me. Most of the time, I didn’t mind it. I was so deeply in need of help, I was thankful anyone came along to usher me in the right direction. I wasn’t so sure how I felt about it now.

“Majesty?” Valentina asked, watching as I collapsed into full-on sobs.

“I can’t do this,” I insisted. “I love him so much, Valentina. How am I supposed to live without him?”

She embraced me. “It’s not fair,” she agreed. “Too many people have to live without the ones they love. Here you are with every resource in the world, and you still can’t make it happen. It’s cruel, Hollis. I’m sorry.”

“Majesty?” Langston asked. “He did not offend you, did he?”

I shook my head, weeping. How could I explain what everyone in close quarters already knew: my heartache was my own doing.

I clutched Valentina. I felt so foolish, picking up the crown and taking vows before I’d known it meant Etan would be gone forever, before I realized being sovereigns meant that Etan and I were tied to our own countries with no means of escape.

The holy men weren’t sure what to do with a crying woman. They’d said the wrong thing to me more than once, and now they usually chose to stay silent in the absence of the right words.

“Majesty,” Langston said, “for what it’s worth, we are sorry. When you left, we thought we knew what heartbreak looked like. Jameson was all but inconsolable. Still, we never saw him break. He was angry, vain, vengeful . . . it was never like this with him.” He came closer to me, speaking softly. “But we know your strength. And your people love you. You will overcome this.”

I nodded my head and spoke through my tears. “Of course, I will. My apologies. I will rest and be ready for our meeting this afternoon. We have much work to do on this trip, and I will not let you down.”

The holy men bowed and backed out of the room, closing the door behind them.