Page 136 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

His eyes sharpen, the way they do when he’s already building something.

“The ball,” he says.

“The Contender’s Ball? That’s two weeks away.” I shake my head. “Two weeks is too long with the way things are already tightening around us.”

“Two weeks,” he says, like that’s nothing, stepping closer. “Every guard will be stretched thin that night, covering the grounds, ballroom, entrances and guest wings. Grier can pull strings to get a rebel stationed on the King’s wing that night. Someone who’ll make sure you have your window.”

His eyes hold mine. “It’s the best option we’re going to get.”

Everything in me wants to go tonight. But wanting isn’t a plan, and Finn’s never steered us wrong. The ball is the best window, maybe the only one we’re going to get. Which means if something goes wrong, we might not get another one⁠—

“And if I’m caught?”

“Then we build the plan like you will be.” His calmness almost soothes me. “With backup routes and safe houses. We’ll all be ready to leave with no hesitation, no scrambling.”

Fear rolls through me, pooling behind my ribs. Finn sees it, like always, and his expression softens. He reaches out and ruffles my hair like I’m a kid. I swat at his hand, but the corner of my mouth kicks up.

“Hey, we’ve got this, Gem,” he says gently. “We’re bringing Mom home.”

“All together, always,” I whisper. The same thing we said when we left Northpine, and the village after that, and the ones after that.

Finn pulls me into him, and I bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent of driftwood. I feel small and safe. His hand comes up to cradle the back of my head. And for a few moments, the fear can’t reach me here.

He pulls back. “Now go. Hayes will come hunting if you’re late, and I’d rather not explain why we’re whispering in dark corners.”

I find Hayes in the western gardens, pacing near the pond by the weeping willow, like he’s checking if I’m hiding underneath it. It pulls a giggle from my throat before I can stop it.

His head swivels left, then right, scanning the hedgerows. He still hasn’t spotted me.

I slip behind a row of white roses, with my footsteps silent on the frost-dusted path, as I get closer to him. He’s turned away now, craning his neck toward the castle entrance. I wait until I’m right behind him.

“Looking for someone?”

He yelps and spins so fast he nearly stumbles. His hands fly out to grab my arms like I’m the one who needs steadying. I’m giggling, and I don’t remember the last time laughter came this easily.

“Gem!” His fingers tighten. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Maybe,” I say, grinning. “You’re an easy target, Hayes.”

He’s still holding me with his thumbs brushing my sleeves. Something flickers across his face before he catches himself and lets go quickly. Then he steps back and clears his throat.

“You’re late.”

“Miss me that much?” I tilt my head, fighting a grin.

“I was concerned,” he says quickly. “There’s a difference.”

“Is there?”

He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it as color spreads across his cheeks. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and then he offers me his arm.

“Come on,” he relents.

I take it, and we fall into step around the pond, the willow tree branches sway overhead with their reflections rippling across the dark water.

He reaches into his pocket and passes me the napkin without looking. I take it, neither of us pretending this needs words anymore. I bite into the apple turnover, and a small, satisfied hum escapes me before I can trap it.

His eyes flick toward me. A grin tugs at his mouth, barely restrained.