I was held still with utter shock.
I felt as I had on the balcony in the Plaza Hotel, the whole world turned upside down and the pieces falling together to make a picture entirely different from the one I had expected. The doppelganger under my window looking up, the doppelganger’s sharp voice on the phone, concerned about me.
Not a trick. A romance.
Carwyn took a step back, leaning against the door frame, and I could not believe how badly I had misinterpreted the restless glitter of his eyes. He covered his face with one hand, but it was too late. I knew he was crying.
“So—you’re going to be a good person from now on?” I asked helplessly, stupidly.
No more of his random cruelty, the way he had tormented me over Ethan out of bitterness or malice even though now he said he cared about me. If he felt like this, then acting like that hurt him, too, degraded him, too. If he was not what people thought him, he should not behave like he was.
Even as I had said the words, I did not think they were true. I could see no hope in his face, and I could find no hope of my own.
“No,” he said, unshading his face and looking at me. His eyes were clear now. “I will never be better than I am. The collar was just a symbol. It wasn’t what people were shrinking from and punishing me for. They were afraid of me. I will always have someone else’s face and not enough heart. You set me free, and look what I did to you. I am going to be worse someday. I’m going to be so much worse.”
He spoke as if it was a foregone conclusion, and I could see his pain at the idea. I didn’t know if what he believed was true or if he was making it true by believing it, but I didn’t care. I was angry at the waste and angry with him.
“So why tell me any of it, then?” I demanded. “Why would you load another burden on me when I have enough? I am not responsible for your heart! Are you just this selfish?”
“Yes,” said Carwyn. “I wanted you to know. I am selfish enough to do it for only that reason, but there is another. I wanted you to know something else.”
The city was burning and Ethan was in danger, and Carwyn was a lost soul.
“I’m not interested,” I said loudly. I let go of the windowsill, crossed the floor in one stride, and shoved him so his back knocked into the door frame. “I’m not interested in listening to anything you have to say.”
Carwyn grabbed one of my hands, his grip too strong for me to escape from it, and I thought for a moment that he was going to wrench my arm out of its socket. Instead he raised my hand to his lips and kissed it, roughly, so his lip split open under one of my rings. It was so far from what I had expected that I did listen to him after all.
“You were not the first dream I ever had, but you were the only dream that ever felt real. You were the dream that taught me I did have a soul. I don’t know how low I will fall or what evil I will do, but I know you. I know there is nothing between us and there never could be. But I would do whatever you asked. I would do anything you want. If I had anything worth giving to you, I would give it. If I had anything to sacrifice, I would sacrifice it for you.”
I didn’t try to pull away from him.
“I don’t want you to sacrifice anything.”
“Don’t think well of me,” Carwyn said, and smiled his dark little smile, though his lashes were still wet. “Not for a minute. This is selfish too. It’s useless. You don’t need me, and I can’t do anything for you. One day you will be happy, and I will sink even further. I’ll be the lowest scum of the streets and you’ll never see me again, but I wanted you to know that wherever I end up, I will still feel the same about you. If you ever think of me then, I want you to remember me as someone who would cut out his heart to spare yours. This is the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. You were always kind to me, even when you did not mean to be, even when you wanted to be cruel. You were angry for me when I would not have thought to be angry for myself, you warned me that cupcakes were too sweet, and you healed my wrist. You treated me like I was a real person, and I almost felt real. Be kind to me again, let me be real to you one more time: I beg you to believe me.”
He was too close to me, his grip not tight enough to hurt and yet somehow still hurting me, as if his skin was hot and his hold on me could burn. I was trembling.
I looked away from him and said in a low voice, “I believe you.”
I was not looking for his reaction and I did not see it. The next moment, the door opened, and Penelope and Marie came through. They were both beaming wildly, their footsteps clattering in a frantic chorus of joy. Someone else walked in with them.