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Even if those things take Lucien away from me.
“The burn is dwindling,” he says. His movements stop and he exhales. “What’s wrong now?”
I shrug. “This isn’t easy for me. I didn’t know about my magic until a couple days ago. It’s not feasible that I’d gain the skills necessary to effectively control it right away. These things take time.”
“It’s time you don’t have.”
“That’s not helpful.”
He sets his cane on the barrel and walks over to me, his steps full of intent. The urge to retreat is overwhelming. Lucien’s gaze zeroes in on my foot when I lift it, freezing me in place. I straighten my leg and stay rooted to the floor, but the damage has been done.
“Trying to fly away?” he asks, his voice laced with dark humor.
“Maybe.”
His wicked smile makes each beat of my heart that much more painful. “Where are you going?” he asks.
“Nowhere. Lucien…” I reach out and grasp the lapel of his coat, curling my fingers around the material to anchor myself. “There’s something you need to know.”
He eyes me, caution making his gaze wintry. “What?”
“Yes, princess, what is it?”
Lucien and I both turn to find Baxter striding into the cellar. He stops several feet away but close enough for me to see the worry swimming in his eyes. It belies his calm outward appearance.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and let my hand fall away from the hatter. “He needs to know because I can’t keep it from him any longer.”
Baxter’s mouth pulls to the side. “You’d tell him of your guilt?”
“What else can I do?”
“That is not what I expected from you,” he says quietly. “I thought you would’ve denied it and spun the story to fit your narrative. Better yet, not tell him to begin with.”
I lift my chin. “There are things about myself that I’m not proud of, but I won’t lie to people I care about.”
Lucien slams his cane, and the lionhead lets out a rumble. “Excuse the fuck out of me, but I’d like to know what is going on. Little bird?”
My breathing goes shallow. “I’m the reason y—”
Baxter straightens and makes a slicing motion with his hand. “Wait.” He walks over to me and grabs my upper arms, staring down at me with such intensity that I rear back. “Now isnotthe time,” he says. “You have to complete your training and then kill the queen. If you tell all of your secrets now, it’ll derail everything.”
“Lying, even by omission.” I squint at him. “You and my mother have that in common.”
Baxter’s grip tightens on my arms. His blood is like a faucet, jetting from his veins and into his heart, making it pump fiercely. I flick my gaze to his neck and bite my lip at the riveting sight.
“Don’t ever compare me to the murdering witch,” he says. “So you remember, is that it?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know that I told you the truth?”
I place my hand on his chest, directly over his thrashing heart. “Because of how much you hate me and the pain I see in your eyes. It’s too raw, too real to be anything but true.”
Baxter sucks in a breath. When he leans into my palm, I press my fingertips against his shirt in a show of understanding and comfort. He opens his mouth to say something, but Lucien walks up to us, frustration creasing his forehead.
“If the two of you don’t tell me what you’re talking about, I just might get angry.” The hatter cocks his head, looking expectantly at his neighbor. “We’ve been friends for many years, Baxter. Surely you can trust that I’ll listen without judgment.”
“Listen, yes. But without reacting violently?” He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to do anything you’d regret later.”
