Page 37 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

Hayes hesitates. “You’re right. The truth? I’m terrified of making the wrong choice. Of hurting people I care about by giving Father a reason to act.”

The honesty in it doesn’t fit the version of him I’d been holding. It leaves me off-balance, like a bird that can’t find a place to land. I know the exact reasons his father acts. I study him longer than I mean to, and he shifts under it.

“That has to be a lot to carry,” I say honestly.

He lets out a breath that seems like it has been trapped in his chest for years. “It is.”

Our pace eases, the gravel crunching softly beneath our boots.

“I’m not blind to it,” Hayes continues. “To what it costs the people. I just…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how to pull at one thread without unraveling everything else.”

“That doesn’t mean you stop looking for where to pull,” I say.

Hayes exhales. “I don’t think it always looks the same from where you’re standing.”

“I know more than you think.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Hayes goes still, watching me too closely, trying to place what I mean. I feel it immediately, the pressure to move and redirect before he does.

“I’ve seen how he treats his people,” I say evenly. “People are hungry, and grain prices keep rising in a kingdom where nobles can call the fields to grow.”

True enough to pass. Not nearly the whole truth. Not the part that would undo everything.

Hayes’s expression shifts from surprise into something that looks like shame. “I…” He stops and looks away. “You’re right.”

I was not expecting that.

“The nobles profit from scarcity. They always have, and Father lets it continue because fighting them would fracture the realm.”

The weight of it shows on his face. “I’m not saying it’s right,” he adds. “I’m just saying it’s the world I was handed.”

I watch him closely and feel the neat lines I drew around the crown and everyone wearing it quietly give way. I need to leave before they give way any further.

“I should go,” I say.

He hesitates, like there was something else he wants to say. “Thank you,” he says instead.

I nod and step back before the conversation can go any deeper. But the conversation follows me back down the corridor, and I can’t quite fit him back into the box I had him in before. I need to, though. Trusting him and being wrong isn’t a mistake I can make, for either of us.

Chapter 12

Ryewood

The autumn air has a bite to it this morning, though I barely register the cold.

Gemma is demonstrating a disarming technique for the third time, which is a good thing because I’m barely listening. I’m too consumed by the way she moves, confident and completely in control.

It’s been nearly two weeks. Long enough that I should’ve stopped expecting her to disappear, but not long enough that I can stop staring.

Rosie is settled near the edge of the circle, leaning back against one of the trees. Hayes keeps glancing that way like he can’t help it.

Stones, I know the feeling.

Gemma’s facing Finn, using him as her demonstration partner, again. Each time, I’m struck by how synchronized they are.

“All right,” Gemma says, stepping back. “Pair up. We’re drilling this until it’s instinct.”

Hayes moves toward Grier. Which leaves me with Finn. Not happening.