“I have one request,’ I murmured.
“Anything.”
I licked my lips. “Would you kiss me?”
He tilted my chin, ever so slightly, and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to mine. And despite the years between us, the time spent apart without a word, I was transported back to that night at the pond, when all the world stood still as I wrapped myself in his embrace, and knew for certain what I wanted out of life.
I wanted him.
Fire scorched my heart, my breath catching as he kissed me likeI might slip away again.
He pulled back. “Lyra, you need rest.”
“I need you,” I said, tugging his shirt so his mouth graced mine once more.
He was gentler now, his soft palm brushing my cheek. He rested his forehead on mine. “Please, Lyra,” he murmured. “Rest for me. We can talk more when you wake again.”
My limbs were already heavy on the bed, my eyes fluttering shut as his fingers combed my hair.
And this time, for once, I didn’t argue with him.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Thomas’s fingers stroked my hair as we sat together. I nestled closer, inhaling the familiar smell of ink and parchment.
I’d missed it.
My scalp tingled with his steady touch.
“Tell me about your father.”
I gave him a look. The request felt sudden and prying.
But something heavy weighed in his eyes, so different than the spark I’d seen the last time I was awake.
“That day by the pond. You said your father had died. I…” he stopped, his jaw clenching. “I have many regrets about that day. About many days I spent with you, in the before.”
I stared at the ceiling, confusion and grief stirring with me. “It’s alright,” I said.
“It’s not. I was awful to you, Lyra. And I’ve read your letter. The real one—Mrs. Calloway gave it to me.”
Dust floated in the air above us, dancing in the light.
“You have to realize… you’re brilliant, Lyra. You could do so much better than a recluse like me.”
I searched his face. His eyes glinted behind his glasses as his fingers curled around my blanket. “Thomas, I thought we alreadydecided I make my own decisions. That I love you. And you should really get some sleep.”
He ran a hand down his face. “You don’t understand, Lyra. You taught me more about the world than any book ever could. I’ve been a fool.”
I reached out, placing my hand upon his. He wrapped his fingers around mine. “We both have,” I said. “You’ve been under a lot of pressure for so much of your life, from the king and your brother. I didn’t understand…”
His thumb stroked the back of my hand, sending tingles through me. “I think at the beginning, it was my own fault. I was only eleven when Evelina passed. I wasn’t close to her like Teddy was. I didn’t have high hopes for her like father. It’s as if I didn’t fully understand what was happening at the time.”
“You were too young to comprehend what her death meant.”
“I couldn’t comfort either of them. I was too childish to help. But I had magic.”
His expression grew distant, as if trapped in memories from years ago.
