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How had things gotten so bad so quickly? It was like her dream all over again, only this time, waking up wouldn’t save her.

Elian came to sit beside her.

“Do you think he is going to be okay?” she asked, eyes not leaving Marcellus, his chest rising raggedly. She had never seen him look so small. He had always been there, an aggravating, unmovable force. One she thought would never fall.

It is my duty to protect you.

Only now, she wished it wasn’t. Not if this was what it got him. He didn’t deserve this. Not after all that had already been taken from him.

“He is strong,” Elian said. “And stubborn. Besides, Lotta knows what she is doing. He is in good hands.”

Thicket raked a hand through her curls, taking in a ragged breath and nodded. “How are you?” she asked.

Elian buried his head in his hands, as though the question had opened the floodgates to his own worries. “I just can’t stop replaying everything.” He massaged his temples with deep, frustrated strokes. “I should have never led us down that tunnel. I should have found a more guaranteed way.”

“We all decided to go,” Thicket said. “The blame isn’t all on you.”

Elian’s brows slashed down and Thicket could tell that while he had heard her, the words hadn’t taken root. “I just can’t help but feel like I always fail when it matters most,” he whispered.

The words ripped through Thicket’s blood, leaving behind a trail of gut wrenching sparks.

Lotta emerged from the bathroom, a trail of steam wafting behind her. Her clothes were freshly washed and her hair, which she usually wore down, was tied back in a braided crown. Two soft strands framed her delicate, heart shaped face, making her bright blue eyes stand out even more. It transformed her, morphing her features from elegant to downright breathtaking. Even Elian lifted his head to take in the sight.

“Where are you going?” Thicket asked. That outfit wasn’t meant for someone who planned on sitting in an inn.

“To find another way inside the palace,” Lotta said, wrapping her scarf around her shoulders and letting it flutter around her. “Alouette, they will keep for political purposes. But I cannot say the same for Bern.”

“Didn’t you say we needed to keep a low profile until the guards were gone?”

“That is why I altered my appearance. And if they do manage to spot me, I am confident I will be able to slip away.”

All hesitations died on Thicket’s tongue, knowing without a shadow of doubt they wouldn’t be able to find her unless she wanted them to.

Elian stood. “I will help you.”

Lotta didn’t object.

Thicket glanced at Marcellus. His breathing was more regular now and he appeared to be stable. She didn’t want to leave him, but she couldn’t ignore the way guilt wormed inside her, eating her alive.

I just can’t help but feel like I always fail when it matters most, Elian had said, yet she was the one who had dragged everyone on this mission instead of going straight to Lavender. She was the one who kept letting her insecurities get in the way. She was the one who constantly doubted everything and everyone around her—including herself.

Because of that, she lost so much but had also forced others to make sacrifices on her behalf.

Dymree’s alliance isn’t worth your life.

But what about the lives and wellbeing of those she cared about? It wasn’t fair to make them bear the weight of what should be her responsibility.

“I’ll come, too.”

Before Thicket could rise, Elian said, “You should stay here. Keep an eye on him until he wakes up.” He nodded at Marcellus, still laying unconscious. “Besides, if he does wake up and you aren’t here, none of us will ever hear the end of it.”

Thicket bit her lip, shifting her gaze to Marcellus once more. “But—”

“You don’t have to be considerate of me, Thicket. We aren’t together, remember?”

Thicket’s chest twinged, though she didn’t know if it was hurt or guilt. “Elian—”

“I’ll be back soon. Try to get some rest.”