Chapter 55: Don’t Be Selfish
>>Aelin
My mind reeled with a thousand questions, none of them comforting. Why now? What did he want? There is no reason for him to come and look for me.
Except...
"I—I..." The words caught in my throat, trembling like trapped birds. I clutched my hands together, hoping it would ground me, but instead, I felt my nails digging into my palms. "I’m not feeling well," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should rest."
Ariston’s eyes narrowed, studying me with the keen sharpness of someone who didn’t miss much. His gaze flickered from my trembling hands to my ashen face, and something shifted in his expression—concern, maybe, or suspicion.
"You don’t look unwell, Princess," he said, his tone softening just slightly. "You look frightened." He stepped closer, "What’s going on?" He glanced at Uriel, "Why does she look like she’s panicking?"
"I’m not panicking," I lied, my voice breaking as I spoke. I turned away from him, unable to meet his eyes, and moved toward the small table by the window, pretending to busy myself with arranging the vase of flowers that sat there. My hands shook as I touched the petals, and I hated that he could see it.
"She looked bad the moment I entered the room," Uriel answered, "She said she didn’t sleep well."
Ariston stepped towards me, "Princess," he said, and his voice carried a gentleness he didn’t ever use with anyone else, "You don’t have to lie to me. If something’s wrong, tell me."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone. How could I explain the weight of everything—of being disowned, of being forbidden to return home, of being treated like a liability, a failure? How could I tell him that my brother’s name alone was enough to fill me with dread because I couldn’t forget the coldness and the contempt in Reagan’s eyes the last time we ever spoke?
"I just don’t feel well," I repeated, my voice hollow. I kept my back to him, hoping he would let it go. "Please, tell him I can’t see him"