Page 69 of A Treason of Thorns

“I was thinking that I could do this without you working House magic again,” I tell him. “That you wouldn’t find out until it was done.”

“I feel everything Burleigh feels now,” Wyn says. “I woke up knowing you were pushing at its bond and that the House was about to lose control, with you in harm’s way. Blood and mortar, Vi, why put yourself at risk when you don’t have to? When I can end all of this? I should do it now, while I’ve got the nerve.”

Wyn presses his hands to the earth, as if he’s about to invite Burleigh’s magic to steal yet more of him from me.

“Stop,” I gasp, the words all terror and sharp edges. “Wyn, don’t even say such things. Promise me, right here and right now, that you won’t give yourself over to the House. That you’ll hold out to the bitter end, and give me a chance to try and save you. Just a chance, that’s all I’m asking for.”

He looks at me wearily. “You’ve asked for a lot of promises since coming home.”

“And you’ve made a lot of needlessly self-sacrificing decisions since I came back; what do you expect me to do?” I answer.

Wyn lowers himself down a little, leaning back on his elbows. “To let me finish the job I’m meant for. Do you know what I am, Vi? I’m a Caretaker. That’s what your father intended for me to be. But where you look after the House, I look after you. And so you’re meant to come first. Before Burleigh. Before the countryside. Before my own life.”

A creeping chill runs down my spine and I shudder. “No one ever asked me if Iwantthat.”

Wyn shrugs. “No one ever asked any of us if we want to be in this mess. Not you, not me, not your father, not this ruin of a House—sorry, Burleigh,” he adds as the ground rumbles beneath us. “Not even your mother. We’re just... in it. And we’ve got to make the best of the hands we’ve been dealt.”

“Wyn,I’masking you,” I say. “Do you want this?”

He stares off at the dark and twisted back woods and stays silent.

“Look at me,” I press, edging a bit closer. “Answer the question.”

At last Wyn turns his face toward me, and the restrained fear I’ve seen glimpses of in his eyes is burning there like a torch.

“I don’t want to die, Violet,” Wyn confesses, his voice low and raw. “I’m a coward at heart. Your father—the thing is, I could have saved him, couldn’t I? If I’d just finished the binding with Burleigh and let the House overtake me, the arrest would’ve ended. George could have walked out of here alive. In a way, I’m as guilty of his death as the king.”

I shake my head. “Is that what you think? I would never blame you for what happened to my father. You were a child when all this began—we both were. Listen to me now: none of this is your fault.And you’re not going to die. I’m going to save you.”

The sound of Wyn’s laugh is short and sharp on the night air. He gestures to the tortured ruins of the back woods. “Like you’re saving Burleigh?”

The words cut deep, but I know it’s his fear speaking, and so I let it go. Instead I meet Wyn’s eyes and hold his gaze, refusing to look away.

“This didn’t happen because I’m trying to save Burleigh,” I tell him. “This happened because I’m trying to save you. I asked the House to show me where the deed is. Asked it directly.”

A great creaking of timber rises up from the back woods as I own what I’ve done to Wyn. The enormous brambles twining through the trees writhe and twist like wicked black snakes.

“I found it,” I blurt out. “Wyn, I found what I’ve been looking for. Burleigh showed me. I know where the—whereitis. You don’t have to end anything. I can do this. I can unbind the House, and free you both from each other, and from the king.”

For the first time since seeing Burleigh’s vision of the Cornish coast, elation swells within me. I found the deed. Or I’ve as good as found it. Everything is going to be alright.

But Wyn looks unconvinced. In fact, there’s more anguish in the lines of his face than ever.

“It’s not dying I’m most afraid of,” he says. “I don’t want that, but it isn’t what I can’t get out of my head. The House is bound to kill you if you do what you’re set on, Violet. And what if I have a chance to save you by giving myself up, and in the moment, I haven’t got the courage to do it? I never did, with George.” Wyn runs a hand across his face. “Stay here. Don’t go after the deed and putyourself in harm’s way. Let things run their course. Let Burleigh get to the point where it can’t afford to take my will into account any longer—where it has to make the decision for me, without any danger to you.”

My desire to see Wyn safe and well and in a place where he can put all this behind him is so fierce it sets a consuming ache in my chest and throat.

“You know I can’t do that,” I say, taking care to keep my words soft and reassuring. But Wyn still shuts his eyes as if he’s been struck, and his jaw tightens.

“I’m not going to fail, and I’m not going to die,” I promise. “You’re the one who said that you think I can do anything I set my mind to. Well, I’ve never wanted something more than I want this—not just because it’s for Burleigh, but because I hope unbinding the House will unbind you, too. I need you to have enough faith in me to let me try, and to swear that you won’t do anything rash until I’ve had my chance.”

As certain as I sound, I’m desperately afraid. But I refuse to let it show.

Wyn looks at me for a long time. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I look back, because I want to memorize his face in this moment.

“Very well,” he says at last, his voice toneless. “I promise I will not finish giving myself to Burleigh unless you’re in mortal danger, or the House forces it. Can you live with that?”

“I’ll have to,” I say. I inch closer to him until he puts his arm around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. As I do, I realize the only thing that makes me feel safe anymore is being close to Wyn.