Ash sits down in a nearby chair, heavily. “I have a son,” he says numbly.

“Yes.”

“With my sister.”

“Yes.”

He buries his face in his hands, and the sense of satisfaction I felt earlier ebbs away watching him. Watching those strong shoulders slumped, that proud head bowed. And suddenly I feel nothing but exhaustion. For the journey behind us and the journey ahead. For the weight of all the poisoned love and spilled secrets I’ll have to carry with me along that journey.

I walk forward and run my fingers through his hair. It’s so thick and black, his head so large and his neck so strong. His skin is warm and alive, even as his breaths grind in and out with barely contained pain. It’s been fourteen years since I met my king, but fourteen years will never be enough to learn every facet and turn of his deep love and strength. An eternity wouldn’t be enough.

I lean down and drop a kiss on the top of his head. “Goodbye, Achilles,” I whisper, and I leave Maxen Ashley Colchester alone with his head in his hands. I leave and get in my car and go back home, remembering the feel of his hair on my lips.

I will break from loving him, I think. I will split with it, burn with it.

And yet, for the first time, I know what I have to do. I know that I’m a good man, I know that I’d be a good leader. I know that I can stop Melwas and keep Greer safe. I know how to do it.

I have to become more than a prince.

I have to become a king myself.