𝖝𝖑𝖎𝖎𝖎. Living With Mistakes

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𝖝𝖑𝖎𝖎𝖎

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𝖝𝖑𝖎𝖎𝖎. Living With Mistakes


Valencia


VALENCIA'S HAIR IS BLONDE. She doesn't know how to feel about it. It was her decision; she dyed it herself last night. It's platinum, and frosty, and she looks so different. Without her jet-black curls, she seems softer. Less severe. The blonde soothes the harshness of features, loosening her bone structure. She looks younger, less mature. She thinks she regrets it. In truth, she wanted to come home from Montfort a different person. Anger her parents perhaps. She thinks she's just angered herself by doing this.

Even though Montfort is beautiful, she's keenly glad to be leaving so soon. She gets to see Damon and Elle. Her people. They're going to the Rift, instead of the Piedmont base. Valencia's home is closer to Montfort, not to mention isn't surrounded by Baraka's territory. And the kingdom is a place of strength, well defended. Chris won't order an assault on their lands, and they'll have time to gather their resources and their armies.

Still, Valencia's skin prickles with discomfort all afternoon. She can hardly stomach Matt's grin as they step out into the courtyard of Dawson's palace. Sometimes she wishes he had just an ounce of Chris' cunning sense. Then he might understand what happened yesterday in the People's Gallery. But no, he's too trusting, too good, and much too pleased with his little speech to realize how well Dawson maneuvers.

The vote was already decided. It must have been. The politicians of Montfort already knew what Dawson would request, and they already knew how they would answer. The army was decided before Valencia and the others even arrived. Everything else, the entire visit to the city, was a performance, and a seduction.

It's what I would do.

Just as Dawson's words to her were a seduction of their own. Another small thing we allow, he said to her when she first arrived. He knows about Elle, and he knows exactly what to say to make Valencia falter. Make her wonder. Make her think, even for an instant, about throwing her life away for a place here.

The premier is a good salesman, to say the least.

Matt crosses the courtyard to bid goodbye to Dawson and his husband, Cardan. Looking at the couple, Valencia feels the familiar surge of jealousy and then nausea. She turns away, if only to look somewhere else.

Her eyes land on another despicable public display of emotion. Another nauseating round of farewells before this troop of dancing monkeys heads to the Rift.

Valencia doesn't understand why Maeve couldn't have said her goodbyes inside, where the rest of them didn't have to see such a performance. As if she's original in her grief. As if Maeve Deuveux is the only one here who has ever had to leave someone behind.

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