Aveyard, Victoria - Glass Sword by Aveyard Victoria

Author:Aveyard, Victoria [Aveyard, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-04T10:44:03+00:00

“I’m not using anyone.” A lie, and we both know it. “And you don’t

know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re right,” he says quietly.

Surprise almost knocks me off my feet. In more than ten years of

friendship, I have never heard those words from Kilorn Warren. He’s

stubborn as a tree stump, too self-assured for his own good, a smarmy

bastard most of the time—but now, on this hilltop, he is nothing he

ever was. He seems small and dim, a glimmer of my old life steadily

flickering into nothing. I clasp my hands together to keep from reach-

ing out and touching him, to prove that Kilorn still exists.

“I don’t know what happened to you when you were Mareena. I

wasn’t there to help you through that. I won’t tell you that I under-

stand, or that I’m sorry for you. That’s not what you need.”

But it’s exactly what I want, so I can be angry with him. So I don’t

have to listen to what he’s about to say. Too bad Kilorn knows me bet-

ter than that.

“The best thing I can do is tell you the truth, or at least, what I think is the truth.” Though his voice is steady, his shoulders rise and fall with

deep, heaving breaths. He’s scared. “It’ll be up to you to believe me or not.”

A twitch pulls at my lips, betraying a painful smile. I’m so used

to being pushed and pulled, manipulated into thinking and doing by

those closest to me. Even Kilorn is guilty of that. But now he’s giving

me the freedom I’ve wanted for so long. A choice, small as it may be. He

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trusts that I have the sense to choose—even if I don’t.

“I’m listening.”

He starts to say something else, then stops himself. The words stick,

refusing to come out. And for a second, his green eyes look strangely

wet.

“What, Kilorn?” I sigh.

“What,” he echoes, shaking his head. After a long second, some-

thing snaps in him. “I know you don’t feel the same way I do. About

us.”

I’m seized by the urge to smash my head against a rock. Us. It feels stupid to talk about, a foolish waste of time and energy. But more than

that, it’s embarrassing and uncomfortable. My cheeks flame red. This is

not a conversation I ever wanted to have with him.

“And that’s fine,” he presses on before I can stop him. “You never

saw me the way I see you, not even at home, before all this happened.

I thought you might one day, but—” He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s just

not in you to love me.”

When I was Mare Barrow of the Stilts, I thought the same way. I

wondered what would happen if I survived conscription, and saw what

that future held. A friendly marriage to the fish boy with green eyes,

children we could love, a poor stilt home. It seemed like a dream back

then, an impossibility. And it still is. It always will be. I do not love

Kilorn, not the way he wants me to. I never will.

“Kilorn,” I murmur, taking a step toward him.

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