Chapter 108

Logan

The dungeon was a maze of damp stone and iron. I never liked approaching the cells, never liked being so far below the surface. But lately, I found myself within the cool confines of the dungeons more often than not. First, I had interrogated rogues here. And then there had been Jesse. Now, Emma awaited me somewhere deep in this labyrinth.

Each step echoed, slow and deliberate, as I descended into the belly of the palace, nearly losing myself in the twisting and turnings of the dungeons made deliberately to confuse prisoners and dissuade escape.

Guards parted for me and opened rusty doors upon my approach, silent and wary, though I caught the flicker of recognition in their eyes. They knew why I was here.

I had come to see her.

Eventually, I found myself before her cell. She raised her eyes to me slowly as I gestured for a guard to open the cell door. It whined as it was split wide.

Emma sat cross-legged on the straw-covered floor, her hair falling in wild tangles around her face. Despite the bruises along her neck that Evelyn had left and the hands that had been bound with tight manacles, she wore that same smug smile she always did.

“You came,” she purred, her voice low and taunting. “I knew you would come for me.”

I stood before her, steeling myself. This was someone I had spent countless hours with. And yet now, we were here, as prisoner and prison-keeper.

“Drop the act, Emma. You’re not fooling me anymore,” I snapped. “You don’t have to pretend everything is fine. You are going to die. I will see you publicly executed soon enough. No one is coming to save you. It’s all over.”

Her smirk faltered, just for a heartbeat, then she tilted her head like a cat toying with prey, that smile unfurling once more. “You look better. Evelyn must have nursed you back to health. Always playing the savior. The healer and then the princess and a liar all along to top it all off. How lucky you are!”

Something inside me snapped at the mention of Evelyn’s name. “Why, Emma?” My voice came out harsher than I had intended. “Why have you always been so cruel to her? What did she ever do to you?”

The smug mask cracked. I saw the flicker of jealousy, of bitterness she couldn’t quite hide. “Because she doesn’t belong here. She never did. You and I, Logan… we were meant to be. Everyone saw it. Everyone but her. She was in the way. She always was.”

Her words sliced, not because they held truth, but because I realized how deep the delusion ran. And what made it worse was that it wasn’t entirely in her head. She had spoken somewhat truthfully. There had been others who had encouraged what wasn’t there.

I swallowed hard, fighting the bile in my throat. “You only thought that because my mother fed you that lie. She gave you false hope that one day I’d choose you over Evelyn. She twisted you into this. If only you had asked me for the truth or listened to the countless times I told you to your face that I wasn’t choosing you.”

Emma’s lips trembled, her chin lifting defiantly. “Your mother wanted what was best for you. She knew Evelyn was unworthy. Even before we knew that Evelyn was lying and deceitful, your mother knew—”

“She was wrong,” I cut in, my voice steel. “About Evelyn. And about you.”

Silence stretched between us. I hesitated before forcing out the question that had been gnawing at me for days. The accusation that had fractured Evelyn and I the first time she had suggested it.

“Emma… did you kill her? Did you kill my mother?”

For the first time since I’d stepped into the cell, she avoided my eyes. Her wrists twisted in her manacles, restless and uneasy.

“Emma.” My voice lowered to a growl. “Tell me the truth. For once.”

Her shoulders hunched, breath shaking ever so slightly. Finally, in a voice that was almost too quiet to hear, she whispered, “It wasn’t an easy decision for me to make, Logan.”

The words gutted me. Their impact was so severe, I staggered back a step.

She looked up again then, desperation flashing in her eyes. “I didn’t do it myself. I sent one of the rogues. She was supposed to make it quick, painless. I wanted her to pass on before she could even speak. I thought—” She broke off, her face contorting. “I thought you’d need me. That you’d finally see me then. I could’ve been someone you relied on, someone you went to for comfort.”

“And Evelyn?” My voice cracked despite my best effort.

Emma’s eyes glistened at the memory of her foiled plan. “It was perfect. Or at least it was supposed to be. She would take the blame, and you’d… you’d turn to me. You’d come home to me once and for all.”

I staggered another step, as though her confession had struck me physically. The walls felt too close, the air too thin. I couldn’t breathe.

I turned on my heel. I’d heard enough. There was nothing left I could say. There was nothing left to ask, either. Anything I could think of was inadequate at conveying how I felt, so I walked out without another word.

I heard the cell being closed in my wake, as well as Emma’s voice chasing me down the corridor. “Logan! Wait! I did it for us! Please, come back. We can start over and be something great! Don’t you see?”

But no. And I never had. Her cries echoed, hollow and meaningless.

My feet guided me quickly through the palace and then out into the cool afternoon. I let them guide me, my thoughts too concentrated on the distress I felt.

Emma had killed my mother. My mother, who had trusted her blindly. Who had wanted me to choose Emma from the start. She had died at Emma’s hand, another victim of her blind cruelty.

By the time I reached the edge of the woods, I was trembling with barely contained fury. My feet carried me, half-conscious, to the graveyard, navigating to where I knew she rested.

I stopped before the headstone that bore her name, written in beautiful, swirling script. The soil was still fresh, the grass struggling to grow back in hairy, sporadic patches like a young boy just learning to shave.

I sank to my knees on the turned soil, pressing my palm against the cold stone. My chest heaved, and my throat was raw and tight.

“You were wrong,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You were wrong about her. About Emma. She wasn’t what you thought she was. She wasn’t… She wasn’t anything but poison. Like the poison she gave you, Mother.”

The silence of the graveyard pressed in, offering no comfort. I was alone with my mother’s grave once more, and she had no way of answering me as I spoke.

“I hope you see it now,” I murmured, closing my eyes. “Wherever you are, I hope you finally see the truth. About both of them.”

The wind stirred through the trees, rustling like a sigh. And I was left there, alone, with nothing but the weight of betrayal and the ghost of a mother who’d never know how badly she’d been deceived.