Page 124 of Thorn Season
Reminded of how brilliant she was, how safe I felt in her hands, I faced her fully. The harsh words between us seemed so far away now, meaningless in the scope of tonight.
Still, I said, “I’m sorry. Everything I said before—”
“Was horrible, and spiteful, and you’ll be paying me back in expensive gifts for the next decade, but you can start”—she grasped my hand—“by not getting caught.”
I squeezed her fingers, nodded, and strode out.
The palace was in chaos. I needn’t have bothered with my hooded cloak; nobody would’ve noticed me even dressed in one of Carmen’s bright ensembles.
Servants and nobles skittered through every corridor, gossip issuing hot from their tongues like fresh blades from a forge. Reports of Keil’s Wielding were already being spun into elaborate fiction, but I refused to listen as I raced toward the stables. If these Wholeborns knew anything about specters, they’d have noticed my raw, ragged exhaustion after Erik had been thrown. They’d have seen Keil’s composure and realized he couldn’t have produced an outburst of that kind.
For once, I was grateful of their ignorance. Unlike Keil, I wouldn’t have made it out of the palace alive.
I now rode easily through the hidden servants’ gate. And, recalling the location Keil had whispered in my ear, I snapped the reins and raced ahead.
A damp, briny smell suffused the air as I neared Emberly River, the moonlit strip separating my province from the capital. The rushingcurrent covered all sound as I tied the horse amid the foliage where she wouldn’t be seen.
Not that there was anyone here to hide from.
I inched toward the bridge, suddenly hesitant. Keil had whispered the location in a post-battle heat, when his decisions were still driven by impulse. Once his faculties had returned, had he remembered my cruelty toward him? Had he regretted saving me?
My hopes had just begun to fall when a shadow shifted under the bridge.
And Keil stepped onto the bank.
I halted. Even my specter stilled. A moment of uncertainty stretched between us, my own shallow breathing seemingly echoed in the quick up-and-down of his shoulders.
Then I felt ashoveinside me—not from my specter, but from somewhere deeper—and I was in his arms, drinking his scent like a parched woman guzzling water. He held me tightly, head burrowed in the crook of my neck. His chest swelled against mine as he took a slow, deep inhale.
That was when I noticed his too-solid contours. I drew back enough to run my eyes down his matte leather armor—the same armor he’d worn the night we’d met. It was jarring to see him looking like a soldier again. How had so much changed since then?
I pulled back all the way, and Keil’s arms slid off me slowly, unready to let go. We assessed each other for several seconds, the breeze rippling my cloak.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said at last, trying to sound firm. “You didn’t owe me anything. Not really.”
He gave a tentative smile. “If you think I did it because I owed you something, you haven’t been paying attention.”
“They would have killed you.”
“They would’ve killed one of us. At leastIhad an escape plan. It was a convincing performance, don’t you think?” He blinked, and his face grew serious. “Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head, and he exhaled.
“Your empress won’t be happy,” I said.
He winced. “No, she won’t be. In one night, I single-handedly proved every terrible thing most people believe about Wielders.”
I dropped my stare, not wanting to see if regret lined his expression.
But Keil dipped his head to catch my eye, forcing my gaze to rise with him. Showing me the sincerity in his face as he said, “I would do it again.”
I swallowed hard, even as my shoulders relaxed. The events of the evening—of the entire season—were beginning to layer over me. I hadn’t realized how tired I was.
Keil’s palm settled against the curve of my cheek, achingly warm on my wind-bitten skin. He’d moved closer at some point, and I wanted nothing more than to sink into him again.
“You could have told me,” he said, his voice as gentle as his touch. “All this time, you’ve been hiding. You’ve been fighting alone. And I never even...” He trailed off, shaking his head like he had in the ballroom.
I’d caught him trying to puzzle me out so many times, agonizing over the missing piece. Now here I was, whole and unguarded before him, and he couldn’t seem to believe the final image.
