“When I find out who it was…” Reave's eyes go completely black, the curse rising with his anger before he can catch it.
I intertwine my fingers more completely with his and give a firm, grounding squeeze.
“We'll find out,” Kestrel says, her voice low, her gaze sweeping up and down the hall, watching for anyone who might overhear. “In the meantime, I'll take her to my own quarters—somewhere I can account for every person with access. And I'll post my own most trusted guards.”
His brow furrows with doubt.
“I can take care of this,” his sister tells him. “There are more problems waiting for you in your office, besides.”
Reave still looks torn as he turns back to me, his hand coming up to the side of my face, his thumb tracing my cheek the way it did right before he said goodbye in his room earlier. Lingering. Memorizing. Like he’s worried it might be a while before he has another chance to touch me like this.
“I'll be fine with Kestrel,” I try to assure him. “Just don't be late for the date you promised me. Ireallyneed to hit someone after this latest disaster.”
The corner of his mouth tightens. Not quite a smile. But the tension in his jaw eases soon after, just slightly, and some of the blackness retreats from his eyes.
As he pulls away, he says something to his sister in the old language of their kingdom—something soft and deliberate that makes Kestrel’s eyes widen slightly before she catches herself and drops her usual mask back into place. She doesn't say anything in return. She just nods.
He gives me a quick, hard kiss, then lets me go and steps away without another word.
I'm curious about what he said to his sister, but I'm too distracted to ask; the mark on my finger is burning again, a dull and relentless pulse. And so is the older one on my wrist, suddenly. The skin all around that mark feels uncomfortably warm in a way I don't want to try and make sense of yet.
I wait until Reave is out of sight before I let an overwhelmed exhale escape me, my entire body shaking with the effort of holding itself together. A few tears prick at my eyes. I blink them away.
Kestrel touches my elbow, urging me into motion. We move swiftly through the palace, passing several windowsthat allow glimpses of the storm I'd felt building on the wind earlier. It's fully arrived, now; sheets of rain hammering the glass; the sky the color of old pewter; lightning cutting occasional white seams through the swollen sky.
“This wasn't your fault, you know,” Kestrel says, after a long stretch of silence.
I don't reply.
“And no matter how many marks are carved into your skin, you belong to no one except yourself. Don't forget that.”
She steers me onward, keeping her hand at my elbow and her gaze alert. Her touch is light, entirely practical, almost cold—like so many of her gestures. But I find myself grateful for the anchor of it. Especially when the thunder outside grows louder and the throbbing in my head wants to mimic it.
We've made it nearly to our destination when a figure careens around the corner, moving so fast it startles Kestrel into taking a protective stance in front of me. She relaxes quickly, cursing under her breath as we both realize it's Briar.
“Owyn. There you are.” Briar pushes past Kestrel to reach me, her hair wild and her eyes red-rimmed and her relief so obvious and enormous that it makes my chest tighten. “Thank thegods,” she pants. “I've been looking everywhere for your stupid ass—I just heard you'd collapsed, but you weren't in your room, or the king's, and I didn't know where they'd taken you, and Sesca…”
I go very still. “What about Sesca?”
Briar hesitates, still taking in the state of me. I get the impression she's trying to decide if I'm in good enough shape to handle more bad news.
I'm not.
But it doesn't matter.
“Briar. Tell me. Now.”
“I…I went to visit her this morning, and she was acting strange. Like she was sick or something.”
Sick.
Is this why I felt the way I did earlier?
“She wouldn't speak to me,” Briar continues. “She kept pacing and circling the yard, flying away only to double back. I tried to follow her, but the last time she took off…she went too far. I lost track of her, and she still hasn't returned.”
Kestrel's grip on my arm tightens.
I look to the nearest rain-splattered window and try again to reach for Sesca through our bond. Not a careful, probing reach this time, but one desperate and clawing, every shred of focus I can muster casting out into the dark, hoping to hook on to some sign of her,anysign of her.
