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Adrian wasn’t there when I woke up. But the wrinkled sheets to my right, the side closest to the door, told me he’d stayed with me through the night.

I felt better after sleeping.

The loss of Hunter not as suffocating this morning.

But the strange dream I’d had lingered on the outskirts of my memories, like a hazy mirage.

I thought I’d remembered hearing my mother’s voice sometime during the night, too, but I couldn’t be sure. My mind was a mess.

A tray with breakfast foods and tea had been left at the foot of the bed. Along with a note, and a sprig of lavender set atop it.

I read it as I stuffed a lemon muffin into my mouth.

I didn’t want to wake you. I’ve gone to help your father with his troops. Theodora is downstairs when you’re ready. She plans to take you for a walk, so don’t forget your boots.

—A

PS - I wish I were there, on my knees, to lace them for you.

I could almost hear Adrian’s teasing voice and ignored it, crumpling his note and tossing it into the empty fireplace on my way to the bathroom. The vomit-ridden quilt nowhere in sight.

Water had been left for me in the wooden tub, with a fresh bar of soap and washcloth set out on the edge of the sink. And rose petals floated on the water’s surface.

If lavender had been Adrian’s mother’s favorite flower, I could confidently say rose was my mother’s.

I washed quickly, scrubbing at my skin and scalp, finger-combing my wet hair, leaving it down to air-dry.

I considered changing into my uniform but thought it’d be nice to walk around one more day in a dress. One more ordinary day before I had to be a soldier again. Before the Earth would decide if I was worthy of life.

So, I grabbed my dress off the chair where Adrian had rested it the night before, and sat down to lace up my boots, working extra hard not to think about Adrian as I looped the lace around my finger.

I wish I were there, on my knees, to lace them for you.

Animal. That’s what Adrian was. An untrained animal who was pushing my buttons to distract me from my grieving.

I stood and blew out a breath, ready to find the lady of the house.

And it didn’t take me long at all.

As soon as I descended the stairs, I found her sitting in the living room on one of the leather sofas, a book open in her hands.

Her brown hair was down, set in loose curls, and her head was slightly bent over her book, her frame slender against the cushioning of the sofa.

She was beautiful. Softer than I was. More delicate in her appearance.

Maybe the bolder side of me had come from my father.

“Hi,” I said timidly, approaching her.

“Hi,” she said warmly, closing the book and setting it aside on a nearby table. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” I answered honestly.

“That’s good to hear.” She smiled, smoothing down the skirts of her dress as she stood. “I thought we could go for a walk. I could show you where you’ll be going tomorrow . . . if you’re up for it?”

I nodded, my limbs restless for movement.

Her smile grew at my acceptance of her offer, right as a young man entered through the front door. “Ah, perfect timing! Bryn, this is Logan. He’s one of our guards, and will be accompanying us on our walk, if that’s alright with you?”