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“Hello, stranger.”
Roma relaxed under her grip, tipping his head back so that his hair brushed her cheek. “Is this an attack?”
“Perhaps,” Juliette replied. She shook the knife from her sleeve and pressed the blunt side to his throat. “One lone White Flower, out in the middle of nowhere?”
Juliette felt a sudden pressure on her ankle. She hardly had a moment to gasp before she realized Roma had hooked his foot over her leg and pulled her off-balance. For the briefest second, she was falling backward, before Roma turned around fast and caught her waist, swiping the knife out of her hand and pressing the flat side to her throat instead.
“You were saying?” Roma asked, grinning.
Once, she had wanted power. But beneath it all, maybe it was never power she wanted.
Maybe it was safety.
Maybe there was another way to get it, away from being heir to a crumbling empire.
“I will fight this war to love you, Juliette Cai. I will fight this feud to have you, because it was this feud that gave you to me, twisted as it is, and now I will take you away from it.”
It was distant to Juliette, and she would let it remain at a distance, so long as she could have this—here, now, perfect: her soul as boundless as the sea, her love as deep.
“I will stare fear in the face,” Juliette promised quietly. “I will dare to love you, Roma Montagov, and if the city cuts me down for it, then so be it.”
Sooner or later, Juliette would have to reckon with her own guilt. She could keep thinking of herself as mighty because she knew her way around a blade. But it was not the blade nor her ruthless tendencies that pushed her to the top. Perhaps they kept her there.
What had gotten her there was her birth.
“We live,” he said, “with the consequences of our choices. I know that better than anyone, Juliette. I am the only one in this entire damn city who feels exactly as you do. You should have known that I would understand .”
“What are you afraid of?” Roma Montagov asked.
Juliette’s lips parted. She exhaled a short, abrupt breath. “The consequences,” she whispered, “of love in a city ruled by hate.”