In a broken voice, he said, “It was Sol’s gift.”

Levana froze. “What?”

“The pendant. It was Sol’s idea.”

The words trickled into her ears like a slow-draining faucet. “Sol…? No. Garrison said it was from you. There was a card. It was from you.”

“She’d seen you admiring that quilt in her store,” Evret said. His voice was tender, like speaking to a small child on the verge of a breakdown. “The one of Earth. That’s why she thought you might like the pendant too.”

She clutched the pendant in her fist, but no matter how tight she squeezed, she could feel her hope passing like water through her fingers. “But … Sol? Why? Why would she…?”

“I told her about how I’d seen you impersonating her. That day, before the coronation.”

Levana’s mouth went dry, the mortification she’d felt that day quick to return.

“I think she felt bad for you. She thought you must be lonely, that you needed a friend. So she asked me to look out for you, when I was at the palace.” He gulped. “To be kind.”

He seemed sympathetic, but Levana knew it was just a cover for his true feelings. Pity. He pitied her.

Sol had pitied her.

Sickly, irrelevant Solstice Hayle.

“The pendant was her idea,” Evret said, looking away. “But the card was mine. I did want to be your friend. I did care about you. I still do.”

She released the pendant faster than she would have released a burning ember.

“I don’t understand. I don’t—” She choked on a sob. She felt like she was drowning, and desperation was clawing at her, her lungs trying to breathe, but there was no air left. “Why can’t you even try, Evret? Why can’t you even try to love me?” Crossing the room, she knelt before him, taking his hands into hers. “If you would just let me love you, let me show you that I could be the wife you wanted, that we could—”

“Stop. Please, stop.”

She gulped.

“You’re always so desperate to make this work, to turn our marriage into something it isn’t. Haven’t you ever just stopped to wonder what else might be out there? What you might be missing out on by trying so hard to force this to be real between us?” He squeezed her hands. “I told you a long time ago that by choosing me, you were giving up your chance to find happiness.”

“You’re wrong. I can’t be happy—not without you.”

His shoulders sank. “Levana…”

“I mean it. Think about it. We’ll start over. From the beginning. Pretend that I’m just a princess again, and you’re the new royal guard, coming to protect me. We’ll act like this is our first meeting.” Suddenly giddy with the prospect, Levana leaped back to her feet. “You should start by bowing to me, of course. And introducing yourself.”

He massaged his brow. “I can’t.”

“Of course you can. It can’t hurt to try, not after everything we’ve been through.”

“No, I can’t pretend that we’ve never met, when you’re still…” He flicked his fingers at her.

“Still what?”

“Still looking like her.”

Levana pursed her lips. “But … but this is how I look now. This is me.”

Dragging his hand over his coiled hair, Evret stood. For a moment, Levana thought he was going to play along. That he would bow to her, and they would begin anew. But instead, he shuffled around her and turned down the blankets on the bed. “I’m tired, Levana. Let’s talk about this more tomorrow, all right?”

Tomorrow.

Because they would still be married tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. For all eternity, he would be the husband who had never loved her. Wanted her. Trusted her.

She shuddered, more afraid than she’d been in a long, long time.

After so many years of wrapping herself in the glamour, it was nearly impossible to let it go. Her brain struggled to release her grip on the manipulation.

Heart hammering, she slowly turned around.

Evret was in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head. He tossed it on the bed and looked up.

Gasping, he stumbled back a step, nearly knocking a glowing sconce off the wall.

Levana shrank away, wrapping her arms around her waist. She ducked her head, so that her hair fell over half her face, hiding what it could. But she resisted the urge to cover her scars with her hands. She refused to pull up the glamour again.

The glamour he had always loved.

The glamour he had always hated.

At first, it seemed that he wasn’t even breathing. He just stared at her, speechless and horrified. Finally, he closed his mouth and placed a shaking hand on the bedpost to steady himself. Forced down a gulp.

“This is it,” she said, as new tears started to leak from her good eye. “The truth that I didn’t want you to see. Are you happy now?”

His blinks were intense, and she could imagine how difficult it was for him to hold her gaze. To not look away, when he so clearly wanted to.

“No,” he said, his voice rough. “Not happy.”

“And if you had known this from the beginning, could you ever have loved me?”

His mouth worked for a long time, before he responded, “I don’t know. I…” He shut his eyes, collecting himself, before meeting her full on. This time, he didn’t flinch. “It’s not the way you look, or don’t look, Levana. It’s that you have controlled and manipulated me for ten years.” His expression twisted. “I wish you would have shown me a long time ago. Maybe things would have been different. I don’t know. But now we’ll never find out.”