Page 150 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

“Which prisoner?” the guard asked, relaxing slightly.

“Khari,” Nore said.

“Ah.” The guard nodded. “This way.”

Nore followed. She did not break. She did not say another word, anything that would give her away, that would betray her as anything less than an unimpeachable member of the crown’s inner circle.

They descended into one of the lower floors, then to the end of a hall. Nore waited as he unlocked the door. “Do you need support?” he asked.

“No,” Nore said, steely.

“You have thirty minutes. Knock when you’re done.”

Nore nodded. The guard stepped aside, letting Nore into the gloom of the cell, the dismal setting heightened by the bite of winter chill through the stone walls. It took a second for her eyes to adjust before she saw him, curled up on the cot, and the scene was so much like every time they’d done this before that her heart seized in her chest.

“Caspian,” Nore said.

His eyes opened slowly. She could tell just by looking at him that he was ill, the fever glazing his eyes. Nore took unsteady steps across the floor until she reached him, and then she fell to her knees on the stone.

“You shouldn’t be here, Finch,” he said as she reached to press a hand to his forehead. He stiffened for a moment. “Unless she—”

“I’m not here on her business,” Nore said quietly. Cas burned with fever, and Nore was relieved she’d packed medication in her bag. She leaned close, brushing a kiss across his forehead. “I found your letters.”

“And?”

“And you’re right,” Nore said. “I have shut everyone out. Everything. I was so terrified to trust again, after you—” She drew a shuddering breath. “And the only person I relied on was the very person who hurt me the most.”

“Nore,” he said.

She shook her head. “I don’t know why you did the things you did yet—but I will not let you die, Cas. Not until I have answers, at least, and I care too much to lose you.”

He smiled, cracking the scab on his split lip, blood trickling through. “I should probably be offended that you’re saving me because of your need for information and not because you can’t stand to live in a world without me, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Nore sucked in a breath. This was it—the leap over the pit, the end of the tightrope. Her hands tightened on his shoulder. “I can’t live in a world without you,” she said.

“Finch, don’t,” Caspian whispered, looking away. “Don’t tell me anything you’ll regret.”

“No,” Nore said, fierce, shifting to kneel between his knees. She gripped his face, forcing him to look at her. “I hate you, Cas. I hate the way your smile makes me feel. I hate that I’ve spent five years dreaming of you. I hate that you are wrecking everything I’ve so carefully constructed, and that I’m throwing it away for you. I hate that you have, rightfully, pointed out that everything I’ve constructed—everything I live for—isn’t actually mine at all. I hate that I love you more than anyone I have ever known.”

“Nore—”

“I love your tricks. I love your lies. I love the way you make me second-guess myself. I love your mind, even when you’re using it to derail all of my plans. I love everything about you, Caspian Khari, and I chose you all those years ago because of that—and I’m choosing you, again, now.”

He pulled her close, dragging her mouth against his, kissing her with a consuming desperation that Nore would’ve given more attention to if they weren’t in such a dire situation. She let him drag her close, his arms going fast against her waist as he pulled her onto his lap. Nore let herself fall for a minute, losing herself in him, before she pulled away.

“Cas,” she said against his mouth. “We are still in prison, and unless we find a way out in the next hour, you are going to die.” She hesitated for the barest moment—“And I might, too, depending on how valuable I am to Celestine.”

He quirked a brow.

Nore dug into her pockets, coming out with the leather-wrapped box. She undid the ties, revealing three vials of Nadiran ink and the thin brush she’d found in the box with them.

Cas drew a breath. “They didn’t take them from you.”

Nore snorted. “Apparently, I’m not a threat.”

He laughed, leaning forward to let her pick the locks on his restraints. When he was free, she handed him the inks and watched as he carefully traced the scars on his arm—as he silently vanished.

Nore bit her lip.