He cleared his throat. “Are you attending the ball?”
“For Prince Theodore’s birthday?”
His face broke into a sincere smile. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen one so written into his expression, making his eyes crinkle and light up.
“That’s what he says,” Thom said. “It’s a ruse to lure Ella back to the palace. He needs to see her again.”
“I’m sure you’re displeased,” I said, remembering his argument with Theodore shortly after Ella fled the palace. Remembering the way his face had flinched when I accused him of ruining their happiness.
His eyes held mine, something painful flickering there. “Actually, it was my idea.”
My breath hitched.
He tucked the blanket around Asha once more and got to his feet. “I’ll leave you,” he said. “Please read that final letter and let me know your… opinion of it.”
“Alright.” The word was more breath than anything.
“I brought something for Asha. I’ve been working quite hard on it the past few months.”
He bowed, the three of us curtseying, and he strode from the room, trailed by Caleb, who offered my sister his kerchief on his way out.
The door clicked shut behind them.
My face burned as Mama and Kelara turned to me, identical grins spreading across their faces.
It took a great deal of debating, and even more eyerolls, to explain what the mage prince was doing in our home. After my family dissolved into delighted giggles, I was able to steal away from their gossip, taking my letters and curling up in my room to read the final few by candlelight. I pulled the last letter from the bottom of the second stack, adjusting my seat to be more comfortable as evening descended upon the house.
I cracked open the seal and got lost in Thom’s final written words on the page.
AutumnFest, 33
Loveliest Lyra,
I hope—oh spirits, I hope this letter finds you.
I have completed my research. I have found the cure. My trials and experiments are over.
And it is all thanks to you. You—glorious, brilliant, beautiful you.
And you will likely never know, if all goes well. I have heard of your niece’sturn for the worst, and finished my first batch of the antidote as quickly as possible. I shall cure Asha and return to the palace without disturbing your life, my presence soon little more than a ghost in your memory. It is abundantly clear you’ve moved on, moved beyond me in ways I fear I shall never move beyond you.
I think, for me, you are it, Lyra. You are the one my short time on this land has allotted for me. And I kick myself every day for turning you, your hungry eyes, your wandering hands, your wild heart and brilliant mind, away.
Yours, if only you would still have me,
Thom
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
When Asha awoke the following day, squinting into the sunlight streaming through her windows, she asked for breakfast. Her stomach growled, her cheeks pink with the newness of spring, her skin lukewarm beneath my touch.
“You have to thank him,” Mama gushed. “And stop acting as though marrying him would kill you.”
My sister covered a laugh with one hand.
“Kelara, help me,” I pleaded, but a mischievous glint sparkled in her gaze. “I’m not throwing myself at Prince Thomas,” I said.
“Any why not?” Mama demanded.
