“That’s not what I said.” Evaine drew a breath through her nose, a line drawn between her brows. She was looking at Rolan too closely. Seeing too much of him. “It’s not a bad thing to love someone, Rolan—”
“I donotlove her. She’s my best friend!”
Evaine’s eyebrow quirked. “Uh-huh. Very well, it’s all right toneedsomeone. To rely on them, and have them rely on you in turn. But love doesn’t just protect. It alsolets go, when it is time to let go.”
“Oh, isthatwhy Luc threw me out?” he retorted. “Where are my knives?”
She barked a laugh as she rose to her feet. “Not happening.”
He sighed and flopped down again. The fight went out of him as pain and exhaustion overwhelmed his mind and body.
“Get some rest, child. Your wounds weren’t deep, but they were many, and you lost a lot of blood.” Evaine rose and moved toward the shop doorway.
But just as her hand parted the beads, Rolan said quietly, “Can I ask you something?”
She looked back at him, raising one eyebrow.
“Why did you choose Anaya?”
Evaine lowered her hand, turning around to face him. “What do you mean?”
Rolan stared up at the ceiling. The wooden beams holding it up shone with polish. Everything in Evaine’s house was always soclean. “Was it because of how fast she can run? How smart she is?”
Evaine leaned in the doorframe, folding her arms as she pondered. “Well, Anaya is fast and smart. But those aren’t the reasons I chose her.”
“Thenwhy?” Why Anaya, and not him? It felt like a stupid question—of course anyone with a brain would see how much better Anaya was than him at nearly everything. And he felt a stab of guilt for even wishing it had been him Evaine had chosen. He didn’t really want to be an apothecary, anyway. But still, it ate at him. What did Anaya have that he didn’t? What was he missing, what shortcoming did he have that he could fix?
What was it about him that made him so easy to throw away?
“I chose her,” Evaine said slowly, “because she deserved better than what the world gave her.”
He sighed. Anaya was smart and beautiful and kind, and ofcourseshe deserved better. He’d always known that. It was why he knew she’d leave him one day. For something better.
But what did Rolan Strider deserve? A cell in the duke’s prison, if you asked Hoff. A knock in the teeth, if you asked his pa.
And what if you asked Luc?
“He’s not coming back for me, is he?” he asked, still staring at the ceiling.
“Rolan…”
“It’s because I couldn’t learn math fast enough, isn’t it? Or because I didn’t listen well enough. I tried, I did. I just… get distracted.”
Evaine exhaled between pursed lips, looking weary. “It’s nothing you did, child. It’s nothing you could have changed. He wants you to be safe.”
Rolan pressed his eyelids shut, saying nothing. He thought of the duke’s words to Luc, when they’d thought he was asleep.He’s trouble. There are better boys from better homes.
What if that’s what this was? What if Luc had already chosen another apprentice, one who listened better, learned faster, and didn’t pick locks he was told not to pick? Someone more like the son he’d lost?
Evaine shook her head, sliding her hand into the bead curtain again. “Try to sleep. Your body needs it.”
She went into the shop, leaving him to collapse onto his pillow with a frustrated groan. It had all gone so wrong.
They should be hailing him as a hero. Luc should be riding back with Rolan’s praises on his chapped, surly lips. Truth, he’d done agoodthing! Why could no one see it?
He thought of the Cryptic he’d killed, and of the secret its relic had revealed to him.
His work was not done yet.
