“I know you’re not happy with me,” he said. “And I’m sorry about that. Everything I’ve done, I did because I thought it was the right choice.”
Well, except for Rune. He’d been utterly selfish when it came to Rune.
Which was why he was here.
Gideon ran his free hand roughly over his stubbled jaw. His breath shuddered out of him. “I know you loved her, Alex.”
Gideon closed his eyes.
“I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Behind him, the crunch of boots on pine needles broke the silence. Gideon tensed, listening. As his hand reached for his pistol—the last one left in his apartment after Rune and Aurelia stole the others—a voice spoke from behind him.
“Sorry to interrupt, Comrade.”
Harrow.
He stood and turned to face her. Light and shadow flickered across her as the wind blew through the graveyard, shaking the trees and scattering moonlight everywhere. “I got your telegram. Laila gave the order to double security along the waterfront. Nothing is getting out of Republic waters tonight.”
Gideon nodded. “Good. And the soldiers?”
“They’re waiting for you at the Crow’s Nest, per your request.”
“Perfect.”
He waited for her to leave so he could return to paying his respects, but Harrow only stood there. Her face was hard to read on any given day, but tonight, the shadows made her impenetrable.
Gideon arched a brow. “Is there something else?”
She kept silent a moment, as if deliberating.
“The Commander has, let’s say, a lack of affection for you, Comrade. He will happily kill you if she escapes again.”
He was well aware of Noah’s resentment. “Those were the terms I agreed to.”
More silence filled the gap between them. But still, she didn’t turn to leave.
Gideon studied her more closely until he figured out the problem.
Harrow—who barely spoke to him these days unless it wasto snap, who barely looked at him unless it was to scowl—wasworriedabout him.
“There was a slight hitch in my plans,” he told her. “But everything is on track. I’ll handle this. Don’t worry.”
Despite not looking reassured, she gave a quick nod and moved to leave, heading for the path. As she turned, the moonlight spotlighted the side of her head, illuminating the scar from her missing ear.
“Harrow? You’ve never told me your story.”
She glanced back. He nodded toward her missing ear.
“What happened?” he asked. “Before the revolution.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”
“You should tell me tonight, in case your fears come true and Noah has the reason he needs to dispose of me.”
This made her pause. Instead of walking away, she pulled herself up onto a bigger gravestone, perching there and letting her legs hang down, obscuring the name of the deceased.
“My parents were poor as dirt,” she said, gripping the edge. “They had too many debts, and too many children to feed. I was the youngest and most useless of seven, so they sold me.”
