Page 175 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

No, no, she wasn’t ready. It couldn’t be now.

A hand shook her, and she burst back into consciousness. She was heaving as she leaned forward and put her head between her knees. Her vision was black at the edges, and the world seemed to waver.

“Wren?” Graves asked.

“A dream.” She brushed her hair off her face. “A nightmare.”

“The room?”

She nodded. “And then…an apartment. There was an alarm of some sort.”

He was silent a moment before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Your parents,” he said. “And what happened to them.”

She shook her head. “No.”

He rubbed gentle circles into her back. The silence dragged on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He was a comforting presence. Not pushing her to discuss what had happened. Not forcing out her own unspoken fears.

“What if I don’t face it?” she whispered into the silence, her eyes squeezed shut.

“You will.”

“How do you know?”

“You’re too brave and too stubborn to do anything else.”

She laughed. “I don’t think most people consider a thief brave.”

“I’m not most people, and you’re not most thieves.”

“Once I know,” she said, meeting his gaze, “I’ll know forever.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t undo it.”

“I know, Wren,” he told her, brushing her hair from her cheeks. “You’ll know when you’re ready.”

“You’re not going to push me to do memory work?”

“No.” He drew her face up to his and planted a kiss against her lips. “I trust you.”

And she saw in his thunderstorm eyes that he meant every word.

Chapter Fifty-One

Kierse wasn’t ready. That much she knew. And since Graves didn’t push, she opted out of more memory work for the time being. They had enough to deal with planning the heist that the memories could wait. Or at least that was what she told herself when she went for another performance ofMidsummer. And another after that.

By then, Lyra had come around. She was the one who suggested Kierse enter the con with the theater troupe. Kierse acted surprised at her suggestion, as if she hadn’t been banking on it, and then readily agreed. Her entrance was secure.

With that out of the way, she set herself to conquering the decoy. She even consulted Walter on some of the specifics. While he couldn’t break locks, he designed computer systems, and had ideas that she’d never considered. She was sure it would unravel any day now.

And while she might have been avoiding memory work, she couldn’t avoid the triskel training that she’d agreed to. Tuesday was the full moon, and she and Gen were set to return to Brooklyn. She was still upset with Lorcan for keeping the binding ceremony from her. After he’d made it out, time and time again, like he was a good guy. A fucking savior complex if she’d ever seen one.

Gen kept glancing at her and bouncing her leg as theytook the subway into Brooklyn. “Maybe he has a good reason for keeping it from you.”

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