Page 123 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

Her eyes dropped to the blood still faintly smearing her hands.

This was all her fault.

Because someone—many someones—wanted her. And someone knew she wanted Roremar more than anyone. Enough that no matter how hard she tried to keep away from him, she’d painted the largest target on his back.

But if the stars helped her, she swore she’d do it.

She’d let Roremar go, so he could live.

“Please,” she whispered. “I love him.”

She only hoped he didn’t fight back when she pushed him away.

“What was it?” Roremar asked when he was finally stable enough to be filled in. He was propped against the pillows in Emmeline’s bed, the bloodied sheets replaced.

“Cyren doesn’t know exactly,” Lola explained from the foot of the bed. “Their best guess is some kind of venom extracted from a snake or possibly an arachnid.”

“Fates,” Roremar said, tipping his head back against the headboard.

His face was wan, dark circles beneath his eyes punching Emmeline in the gut every time she glimpsed them. Cyren had changed the bandages around his torso when they stitched up the wound, but Roremar’s tattooed skin was on display, and he looked so comfortable in her bed. A labored swallow worked the column of his throat, and Emmeline watched the motion as if her life depended on it, rooting herself at her desk across the room.

“You feeling okay?” Desmond checked, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was perched in an overstuffed armchair he’d dragged in from Lola’s suite, circles beneath his eyes that mirrored his best friend’s.

“Fine,” Roremar said, pushing upright and reaching for the papers spread across the bed.

He didn’t try to stand, and that was confession enough that he wasn’t truly feeling fine, but Emmeline turned her attention back to the work on her desk, underlining more helpful passages. She’d spent the entire night alternating between taking notes and reading her Fates for any hint of what might help, waiting for Roremar’s eyes to open.

“I need to learn a lot about poisons,” Roremar deadpanned. “And all in a day. So, yes, I’m fine.”

“Here,” Emmeline said, bringing more notes over to him. “These are on flower varieties that are unlikely poisons. I’d guess you’ll see some of them since they’re fairly common. I marked identifying factors like scent and color and how to combat them if they’re accidentally ingested. I think, given that the trial is to test knowledge somehow, the antidotes are important.”

She set the pile on the nightstand without meeting Roremar’s eye and turned away, but a cool hand gripped her wrist. Emmeline inhaled, eyes squeezing closed as she composed herself. Lola and Desmond were watching, could see her shuttered expression, but she didn’t care. They weren’t who she needed to fool.

After a beat, she turned to Roremar, his eyes swimming with worry.

“Everything okay, Huntress?” he whispered.

Nothing about this situation was okay. He could have died.

She could never keep him, and she loved him so much it would break her.

But she didn’t voice any of it, turning each truth over to the stars instead, and she hoped Roremar couldn’t read the longing ripping through her as she could his.

Emmeline slipped her wrist from his grasp and insisted, “You need to focus.”

Without waiting for a response, she strode into the bathing chamber and shut the door. Pressing her back to the cool wood, she sank to the floor and ignored the murmurs from the other side as her tears fell.

Chapter Forty

Roremar

“Any hints for tomorrow?” Roremar asked Cyren when they walked him back to the barracks the night before the second trial. They’d told everyone he’d been cleared by healers after twenty-four hours.

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Cyren said.

Roremar huffed a laugh, his entire body exhausted. “Could you really?”

Cyren’s lips pinched, but Roremar had the distinct impression the General was unimpressed with the tournament. “Get some rest tonight, Roremar. You’re going to need it as the rest of the poison works its way out of you.” They dug through the inner pocket of their silk robe, handing him two corked vials. “Drink one of these first thing when you wake up and the second right before the task. They should help build your strength.”