Page 92 of Tale of the Heart Queen

“Do you know how to do it?” Nadir asks.

Tyr shakes his head. “I know some of it, but I will speak with the Mirror while we wait for the others to return. It’s time I make some decisions anyway.”

Everyone in the room is silent, their eyes on Gabriel, who seems to be two seconds away from falling apart.

“I’m going to . . .” He shakes his head. “I’m just going.”

Then he abruptly spins on his heel and stalks out of the room.

I don’t know why I do it. Gabriel and I have always had a complicated relationship, and maybe I’m the last person he wants to see right now, but I bolt for the door.

“Excuse me,” I say before I follow Gabriel, running to catch up. His steps are sure and quick, and he ignores me as I fall in next to him. I have to jog-walk to keep pace with his long legs.

I open my mouth, but he cuts me off.

“Don’t,” he says. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“About what?” I ask as he gives me a side-eyed glare. “Oh, you mean the whole prisoner to your king thing?” I raise a hand and mime buttoning my lips shut.

“Totally not what I was going to ask you about,” I say, and he gives me another skeptical look. “I mean, I don’t really care, you know?”

Of course, I don’t mean that, but my answer seems to shake something loose, his shoulders and his wings dropping and the tightness around his mouth easing.

“Then what do you want, Final Tribute?”

“You know, you could stop calling me that,” I say. “I am literally a queen.”

Gabriel snorts. “I don’t see a crown on your head.”

I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face, and I swear I catch the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. There’s something so normal and nostalgic about this moment that my chest tightens with acute longing for our surroundings to settle into a simple and normal place.

“Don’t you dare fucking cry,” he says. “Or I’m sending you back.”

“How dare you? I don’t cry.”

That finally earns me a quirk of his mouth.

“You still haven’t answered why you’re following me like a stray kitten.”

“I just wanted to know that you’re okay,” I say, bringing him up short.

“Why? I’ve been a dick to you since the day we met.”

I shrug. “You really have, but . . .”

“Lor . . .”

I reach out and grab his arm. “I understand now how much pressure you were under. How little control you had over everything and that your personality isn’t all your fault.”

It takes him a moment to realize I’ve just insulted him, but that elicits a dry laugh before he keeps walking. I scurry along. The hallways are all dimmed with low light, devoid of the parties and music I remember during my first stay inside the Sun Palace. I wonder where everyone is. From what the others told us, there have been constant riots and fighting in the weeks since we’ve been gone.

Where have all the rich nobles run to? Their homes in the city? Or further away, where none of this can touch them?

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to send a message to my brothers,” he answers. “I don’t know where you’re going.”

I ignore that comment, keeping pace with him as we wind through the palace until we reach an aviary filled with carrier doves. He opens a wooden box attached to the wall and retrieves a slip of paper and a pen.