Page 106 of Daughter of No Worlds

Of course. What else did I expect? “You will not tell me.”

“I can’t.”

Acidic frustration ripped through me. Surely he understood the weight of what he was asking me to do, or not do. And still, here he was, guarding his secrets?

“That is unfair,” I said, quietly. “I know you hate the Orders, but—”

“I will go with you.” He said it fast, in one exhaled breath. “We can go to Threll today. We don’t need an army. You and I could do it alone. We will find a way.”

His words careened through me, slamming against my heart with a force that left me momentarily speechless.

“I mean it, Tisaanah. I’m serious. Right now. We can go right now.” He lifted his palm, gesturing to the sea. But his eyes did not leave mine, and I drowned in that thread connecting our gazes.

“If the Orders offer me support, then I need it,” I rasped. “I have nothing else.”

And there was no hesitation, no pause, as he stepped closer and said, “You have me.”

My chest hurt.

I wanted to smooth the desperate wrinkle between his eyebrows. I wanted to still the quivering muscle in his throat that betrayed the intensity of his anxiety. I wanted to take the kiss that I had left behind last night.

And most of all — more than anything,anything— I wanted to say yes.

But this was not about me.

And he knew that, too. I could see it in the anguish in his face: that we both understood that what he was proposing was a fantasy. The two of us alone could never do what I wanted —needed— to do.

I placed my hand over his. “You must tell me why.”

What I meant: Give me a reason. Give me any reason to say yes.

The corners of his mouth tightened. “Do you trust me?”

Gods, I did. More than anyone. “I trust that you are trying to protect me above all else.”

A flicker of hurt crossed his face. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” I said quietly, “that I am willing to make sacrifices that you are not.”

His fingers tightened around mine. He barely breathed, barely blinked. “He could be dead, Tisaanah,” he murmured, and he sounded like it hurt him as much to say it as it did for me to hear it. “What if he is? Even if you go there, he could be gone.”

Just to hear my worst fears condensed into words rose a lump in my throat. “I know.”

And I did. I knew that it was unlikely that Serel had survived. I knew how fragile his flesh was, how easy it would be for one slave boy to be killed by the cruelty or malice or mere carelessness of the Threllian Lords.

“But it’s not just about him,” I whispered. “There are so, so many.”

Because, after all, such heavy sacrifices had already been made for me. How could I not return them? How could I stop at anything that would ever repay them? That was all I was worth. Even though the part of me that lingered beneath all of that — the part of me that stood against the wall last night, drowning in the sensation of Max’s breath — wanted nothing but this.

We stared at each other for a long moment.

“Tisaanah,please,” he said, at last.“Promise me.”

I extracted my fingers from his, then placed my hands on either side of his face. I drank in his features. Then I pulled his face toward me and pressed my lips against his forehead. Inhaled his scent of ash and lilacs slowly, savoring it. And in my exhale, I whispered against his skin, “I promise you that I will be alright.”

I turned away before he could say anything else, and I didn’t look back as I scaled the steps to the Tower entrance. It was only as I opened those heavy doors that I cast one final glance over my shoulder to see Max still standing there, watching me go.

I lifted my palm in a wave he did not return. And as I curled my shaking hands around the handle to close the door behind me, I wondered if I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.

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