The optimist in me wonders if this is it. Show’s over. Then Montes glides back into me, and I suck in a breath at the pleasant throb. The man who ruined my world, killed my parents and most of my people, is now my husband, and he’s making love to me. And I’m enjoying it. It’s so wrong it makes my skin crawl.

A stray tear streaks down my cheek. “I hate you,” I say to him.

“You won’t always feel that way,” he says, thrusting into me.

“I will. I swear it.”

“Give it up,” he growls, pushing into me harder. “The war is over.”

“Not for me. It won’t ever be over for me.”

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Serenity

I lie awake for a long time afterwards, staring at the ceiling. Next to me the king’s breathing is steady and even. He fell asleep a while ago. When I can’t take it anymore, I push his arm off of my waist. The king makes a noise in his sleep and rearranges himself.

I slip out of bed and grab the silk robe that someone had set out for me earlier. The smooth material makes me want to shrug the garment off. After wearing rough fatigues for most of my life, such soft fabric feels unnatural against my skin. Instead I cinch the robe around my waist and walk outside.

I grip the stone railing. Here, wherever here is, the night is pleasant. I can smell the seawater carried along the breeze.

Now that no one is watching, I bow my head and allow myself to weep. Weep for my life, for all those who’ve killed or died because of the war, and for the uncertain future of the world.

When I’ve cried myself out, I lie down on the cool floor of the balcony and stare at the stars. I make out the Pleiades, a constellation my mother taught me years ago. Make a wish upon the seven sisters, she’d whisper to me when we’d catch sight of them.

And I do so now. I wish I could be up there with you. I gaze at them until my eyes drift closed.

Sometime later I feel my body lifted off the ground and the warm press of skin against mine as I’m tucked back into my bed.

I’m pulled from sleep once more when I feel a light kiss on my lips, and the sensation of hands caressing my skin. I make an approving sound at the back of my throat and stretch like a contented cat.

Then my situation comes rushing back to me. My eyes snap open, and I stare into Montes’s deep brown ones. His hair hangs down around his face, and I can’t help but notice that the ruffled look suits him well.

The sky outside has a predawn glow. It’s not morning yet, which means …