Page 71 of The Thirteenth Count

She lowered them like a petulant child.

“Hands.”

She looked down. Her fingers had curled into fists at her sides. Slowly, she uncurled them.

Cassius’ expression did not change. “Better.”

“I despise that word.”

“I know.”

Cassius turned then, as if the matter were settled, and started toward the parapet.

Fern’s relief vanished. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer until one polished boot settled on the carved stone ledge.

Fern’s mouth ran dry. “Cassius.”

That got his attention more than her question had. He looked back at her, one hand resting lightly against the Keep wall, the wind pulling at the hem of his coat.

“Moving,” he said. “Obviously.”

“That isn’t moving. That’s begging the Mother to come collect you early.”

His mouth shifted. Barely. “Walk.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Not here.” He nodded toward the stretch of terrace below him. “There.”

The clarification didn’t help. The parapet was low enough to make her skin crawl, and with him standing on it, the drop beyond seemed to open wider, red fog shifting below his boots.

“You’re going to fall,” she said. “And then I’ll be tried and hung for the heir’s death.”

“I’m not going to fall.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know where my feet are.”

Fern hated that answer almost as much as she hated how steady he looked. No grip on the wall now. No visible tension in his shoulders. Nothing but Cassius Blackwell standing above empty air.

“Move,” he said again.

“I’m beginning to think your family has a very poor relationship with doors, walls, and basic survival.”

“And I’m beginning to think you talk when you’re afraid.”

Fern drew her mouth into a thin line.

That one hit too close, and he knew it. As if in answer, wind shoved against her back, pushing her one involuntary half-step closer to the parapet. Sprout gave a sharp little chirp and tightened his grip on her shoulder.

Cassius watched her recover.

“Again,” he said, quieter this time. “Walk.”

Fern looked down at her boots. Then at the terrace ahead. Not the drop or the fog, but the stone immediately in front of her.