Chapter 22

The plane touches down just as the sun begins to rise, casting a golden glow over the tarmac.

My body feels heavy, like I’ve been carrying the weight of the world since we left Paris. The events of the council meeting replay in my mind on a loop, each moment more vivid than the last.

The way the king dismissed us. The way Valentine’s father looked at him—like he was nothing. And it’s all because of me.

I get that I never asked for any of this, but I'm now beginning to process the fact that he must have also not asked for any of this as well.

Now I just feel selfish.

As I step off the plane, I see Achilles waiting for us. He’s leaning against a sleek black car, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips.

But there’s something in his eyes, a flicker of concern that he quickly masks with his usual light-hearted demeanor.

“Took you long enough,” he says, pushing off the car and walking toward us.

He tosses a bundle of fabric to Valentine, who catches it without a word. It’s protective gear, something to shield him from the sunlight until he can get into the car.

The tinted windows will keep him safe once we’re inside.

I watch as he slips the gear on, his movements stiff and mechanical. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t say a word.

The silence between us is heavy, suffocating. I want to say something, to apologize, but the words stick in my throat.

Achilles opens the car door for us, and we slide into the backseat. The interior is cool and dark, a stark contrast to the bright morning outside.

As soon as the door closes, Valentine rips off the protective gear, tossing it onto the floor. He leans back against the seat, his eyes closed, his jaw clenched.

He's definitely pissed.

Achilles glances at us through the rearview mirror as he starts the car. “So, what happened? You two look like you’ve been through hell.”

I swallow hard, my fingers twisting in my lap. “I… I lost it at the council. I didn’t listen to him. I thought if I just explained myself, they’d understand. But they didn’t. And now they’re after us.”

Achilles raises an eyebrow, his tone casual. “Ah, so the council’s throwing a tantrum again. Typical.”

I blink at him, surprised by his nonchalance. “This isn’t a joke, Achilles. They sent shades after us. Three. They’re not just throwing a tantrum—they’re trying to kill us.”

He shrugs, his smirk returning. “Yeah, well, they’ve been trying to kill a lot of supernaturals for years. You’re just the new target on their hit list. Welcome to the club.”

I stare at him, unsure if he’s trying to make me feel better or if he’s just being his usual flippant self.

Either way, it’s not working. The guilt is still there, gnawing at me. I glance at Valentine, but he’s still silent, his face is distant like he's having an inner conversation.

The drive back to his mansion is quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional comment from Achilles.

He tries to lighten the mood, cracking jokes and making sarcastic remarks, but I can’t bring myself to laugh.

My mind is too busy replaying everything that happened, every mistake I made.

When we finally arrive, Valentine throws on his protective gear and gets out of the car without a word, heading straight for the doors.

I watch him go, my chest tightening. He doesn’t look back.

Achilles notices my expression and sighs, leaning against the car. “Don’t take it personally. He’s not mad at you.”

I shake my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “He should be. This is my fault. If I had just listened to him, if I hadn’t talked back to the council—”

“If you hadn’t talked back, they still would’ve come after you,” he interrupts, his tone firm but not unkind. “Trust me, the council doesn’t need a reason to attack. They just need an excuse. And you gave them one. But even if you’d been a goody two-shoes, they would’ve found another way to come after you.”

I frown, his words sinking in. “But the king… the way he looked at him… that’s because of me.”

Achilles shrugs, his expression softening. “The king’s always been a piece of work. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not exactly winning any Father of the Year awards. But this? This isn’t on you. It’s on them.”

I want to believe him, but the guilt is still there, a heavy weight on my chest. “I just… I feel like I’ve made everything worse.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re overthinking it. Trust me, if the council wanted to make things worse, they’d find a way. You’re just caught in the middle of their mess.”

I sigh, leaning against the car beside him. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he says, his tone light. “Just let him handle it. He’s good at that. And hey, the queen’s on his side. She’s pissed that the council sent shades after him. So maybe she’ll listen to your petition. That’ll buy you some time to figure things out.”

I glance at him, surprised. “The queen?”

He nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, she’s not exactly thrilled with the council right now. He's her only kid, you know? So, you’ve got that going for you. Silver lining, right?”

I manage a small smile, though it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I guess.”

He claps a hand on my shoulder, his grin widening. “See? Things aren’t so bad. You’re still alive, he’s still alive, and the queen’s on your side. That’s a win in my book.”

I nod, though I’m not entirely convinced. But his light-heartedness is starting to seep into me, easing some of the tension in my chest.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe things aren’t as hopeless as they seem.

We head inside and just at the entrance, I find the sun proof gear on the ground. I pick it up, and Achilles takes it from my hands and tosses it back to the ground again.

"The maids are paid to clean up after us," he teases. "Don't let your guilt turn you to a maid."

I manage a smile at that.

I feel a little hope that we might find a way out of this. Just a little hope.

And if we don’t? Well, at least we’ve got Achilles to crack a few jokes along the way.