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I found that somewhat disappointing. “I know you don’t want to be cooped up in your chambers. There’s no reason to lie to me.”
“I…” Her gaze darted around us. “And where do you suggest that I go?”
“Where we go?” I tilted my chin toward the garden entrance.
Her chest rose with a deep breath. “I don’t know. It…”
“It used to be a place of refuge. Now, it’s become a place of nightmares,” I said, stomach churning with the knowledge I was the reason she no longer had that. “But it can only stay that way if you let it.”
“If I let it? How do I change the fact that Rylan died out there?”
“You don’t.”
The corners of her mouth tensed. “I’m not following where you’re going with this.”
I moved in closer to her, meeting her stare. “You can’t change what happened in there. Just like you can’t change the fact that the courtyard used to give you peace. You just replace your last memory—a bad one—with a new one—a good one,” I told her, having learned that myself. “And you keep doing that until the initial one no longer outweighs the replacement.”
Poppy’s lips parted as her attention shifted to the garden door. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not. It’s hard and uncomfortable, but it works.” I offered her my hand. “And you won’t be alone. I’ll be there with you, and not just watching over you.”
Her gaze flew to mine. She seemed to lock up as if my words startled her. At first, I wasn’t sure what I’d said to cause such a reaction, but then I thought about what I knew of her. Other than perhaps Tawny, those who spent time with her did so because it was their duty. Even Vikter, to some extent. Even me.
Fuck. That sat like a boulder on my chest.
Poppy brought her hand to mine but then stopped short. “If someone saw me,” she said. “Saw you—”
“Saw us? Holding hands? Dear gods, the scandal.” I grinned, looking around. “No one is here. Unless you see people I can’t.”
“Yes, I see the spirits of those who’ve made bad life choices,” she replied dryly.
I laughed. “I doubt anyone will recognize us in the courtyard. Not with both of us masked, and just the moonlight and a few lamps to light the way.” I wiggled my fingers. “Besides, I have a feeling anyone out there will be too busy to care.”
Poppy placed her hand in mine. “You’re such a bad influence.”
She had no idea.
I folded my hand around hers. The back of my neck tightened. “Only the bad can be influenced, Princess.”
THE WILLOW
“That sounds like faulty logic to me,” Poppy commented.
I laughed, leading her toward the cooler air of the outdoors. “My logic is never faulty.”
That got me a slight smile. “I feel like that’s not something one would be aware of if it was.”
But in the lantern light, the small grin faded too quickly as she glanced around the garden and the breeze rattled the bushes crowding the walkway. Her steps slowed. Even without my senses, I knew she practically hummed with anxiety.
Seeking to distract her, I spoke the first thing that came to mind. “One of the last places I saw my brother was a favorite place of mine.”
Her attention darted from the darkened pathways that neither the lanterns nor the moonlight penetrated. Wide eyes met mine.
I tightened my hand around hers, but her fingers remained straight. I held her hand. She wasn’t holding mine. “Back home, there are hidden caverns that very few people know about. You have to walk pretty far in this one particular tunnel. It’s tight and dark. Not a lot of people are willing to follow it to find what awaits at the end.”
“But you and your brother did?” she asked.
“My brother, a friend of ours, and I did when we were young and had more bravery than common sense.” My brows knitted. “But I’m glad we did because at the end of the tunnels, was this huge cavern filled with the bluest, bubbling, warm water I’d ever seen.”
She glanced to our left, where the low murmur of conversation seeped out from the darkness. “Like a hot spring?”
“Yes, and no. The water back home… There’s really no comparison.”
“Where are—?” Her head swiveled to the right at the sound of a soft moan. I grinned as she swallowed. “Where…where are you from?”
“A little village I’m sure you’ve never heard of,” I said, squeezing her hand. Her fingers remained straight. “We’d sneak off to the cavern every chance we got. The three of us. It was like our own little world.” A wistfulness I hadn’t felt in a long time filled me as I spotted the marble and limestone fountain sculpted in the likeness of the veiled Maiden. Water tumbled from the pitcher she held, spilling into the basin at her feet. “And at the time, there were a lot of things happening—things that were too adult and grown-up for us to understand then. We needed that escape, where we could go and not worry about what could be stressing our parents, and fretting over all the whispered conversations we didn’t quite understand. We knew enough to know they were a harbinger of something bad. It was our haven.”
