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The silence spreads between us like a river I fear we’ll never bridge.
But then Braxton moves closer and says, “Tasha, I need to know—what exactly was your role in Killian’s return?”
He wears his distress on his face, and though I know it will upset him, I say, “I brought him back. Killian was on my list of Gets.”
I watch the shift in Braxton’s demeanor—the way his body tenses as his gaze retreats inward, rendering him completely inaccessible.
“And where exactly did you find him?” He struggles to keep his tone calm.
“Versailles.” I tuck a leg underneath me and pull a needlepoint pillow onto my lap. It’s a scrappy Union Jack pattern, with frayed edges that look like a dog might’ve chewed them. For a moment, I wonder if it were once the property of Queen Elizabeth and one of her beloved corgis might’ve had their way with it, but I abandon the thought just as quickly. “My first solo trip was basically a repeat of the previous one. Arthur made me return to the Yew Ball.”
Those shadowed moons under Braxton’s eyes have grown deeper, darker. “And why’s that?” His voice is hushed, as though he dreads the response that will follow. “Why do you think he chose to send you back?”
I hug the pillow to my chest and force myself to say the words he absolutely does not want to hear. “Because the last time I was there, Killian and I…met.”
