Masks Symbol Analysis

I truly had nothing to fret about, save for the fact that they’d probably forget me sooner than expected. I couldn’t entirely blame them. My vow fulfilled, my task complete—what was left for me?

The firelight danced on his mask, warming the gold, setting the emeralds glinting. Such color and variation—color I didn’t know the names of, colors I wanted to catalog and weave together. Colors I had no reason not to explore now.

“Paint,” I said, barely more than a breath. He cocked his head and I swallowed, squaring my shoulders. “If—if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like some paint, and brushes.”

“My father once told me that I should let my sisters imagine a better life—a better world. And I told him that there was no such thing.” I ran my thumb over his mouth, marveling, and shook my head. “I never understood—because I couldn’t…couldn’t believe that it was possible.” I swallowed, lowering my hand. “Until now.”

Tamlin smiled at me one last time. “I love you,” he said, and stepped away.

I should say it—I should say those words, but they got stuck in my throat, because…because of what he had to face, because he might not find me again despite his promise, because…because beneath it all, he was an immortal, and I would grow old and die. And maybe he meant it now, and perhaps last night had been as altering for him as it had been for me, but…I would not become a burden to him. I would not become another weight pressing upon his shoulders.

“She was the King of Hybern’s most lethal general […] But she had a younger sister, Clythia, who fought at her side, as vicious and wretched as she…until Clythia fell in love with a mortal warrior. Jurian.” Alis loosed a shaking sigh. “Jurian commanded mighty human armies, but Clythia still secretly sought him out, still loved him with an unrelenting madness. She was too blind to realize that Jurian was using her for information about Amarantha’s forces. Amarantha suspected, but could not persuade Clythia to leave him—and could not bring herself to kill him, not when it would cause her sister such pain.”

“He thought that if the human girl loved true, then bringing her here to free him was another form of slavery. And he thought that if he did indeed fall in love with her, Amarantha would do everything she could to destroy her, as her sister had been destroyed. So he spent decades refusing to do it, to even risk it. But this winter, with months to go, he just…snapped. He sent the last of his men out, one by one. And they were willing—they had begged him to go, all these years. Tamlin was desperate to save his people, desperate enough to risk the lives of his men, risk that human girl’s life to save us. Three days in, Andras finally ran into a human girl in a clearing—and you killed him with hate in your heart.”

But I had failed them. And in so doing, I had damned them all.

“Did—did Tamlin see it?”

Lucien nodded. “Rhys was only doing it to get a rise out of him.”

“Did it work?” I still couldn’t look Lucien in the face. I knew, at least, that I hadn’t been violated beyond touching my sides. The paint told me that much.

“No,” Lucien said, and I smiled grimly.

“Wait,” I said. “Is—is Tamlin all right? I mean…I mean that spell Amarantha has him under to make him so silent…”

“There’s no spell. Hasn’t it occurred to you that Tamlin is keeping quiet to avoid telling Amarantha which form of your torment affects him the most?”

No, it hadn’t.