Page 111 of The Rebel and the Rose
I am tired, Saint Calvin.
Take me home.
Sera woke with a gasp. Sunlight poured over her, scorching away the nightmare she had just endured. All but the fear still pounding in her heart.
Not her fear.
Not her memory.
But she thought she knew that ivory tower, and where it stood: Ra’azule, home of the Priory of Saint Alisa, and the saint called Marianne who had been imprisoned there.
Strange that she would dream of her now. Last night’s meeting with Andreas must have unlocked her connection toanother saint. The fog of destiny was slowly clearing but Sera still couldn’t see her way through.
Or perhaps it had been Ransom who had unlocked her magic last night, deftly coaxing it out with a lover’s touch. Maybe that was the secret to understanding it. Not fear but tenderness. Patience.
Last night came flooding back all at once. Sitting up, Sera looked for Ransom. Morning light cascaded through the open drapes, sparking off the skull ring on his bedside table. Dufort’s ring.
Ransom had taken it off.
Was it intended to be a sign of his commitment to her? A gift of freedom to himself? He would tell her soon enough.
Smiling now, Sera grabbed her clothes from last night and got dressed in a hurry. She doubled back to pocket the ring. They could throw it in the river on their way to find Andreas again. There was still so much to learn, and to plan.
There was no sign of Ransom in the hallway, no echo of his footsteps in the stairwell. Where the hell was he?
When she returned to the suite she shared with Val and Theo, Val was fast asleep in their bed. Theo was standing by the window. A silvered brow arched as he looked her up and down, silently noting her badly laced corset and crumpled red skirt. Mercifully, he kept his mouth shut. Likely too tired to tease her. She could tell by his ruffled hair and puffy eyes that he hadn’t been awake long.
‘What time is it?’ she thought to ask.
‘An hour or so after dawn.’ Concern flitted across his face. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, glancing at herself in the nearby mirror. Sure, she was a bit rumpled. She needed to wash and change but she hardly looked like roadkill. ‘Last night went well. The prince seems reasonable. A better man than the king.’ Not that the bar was high. ‘He’s agreed to help us rescue Bibi. And help me with my magic too.’
Theo’s frown deepened. ‘Good. But I was talking about Ransom.’
‘What about him?’
‘He’s gone, Sera.’
She blinked, sure she had misheard him. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The Daggers left not long after dawn broke. I was asleep when Caruso showed up at our door, carrying Val, like a snoring sack of potatoes. Said the Daggers were leaving, and we were on our own now.’ At Sera’s look of alarm, he turned back to the window, pointing to the empty street as though that was supposed to mean something to her. ‘They took the carriage and fled. I watched them go.’
She joined him by the sill, a horrible tremor rattling through her chest. Clearly, Theo was mistaken. ‘Why didn’t you come and get me?’
‘I figured you two had a fight,’ he said, shrugging. ‘And that you had finally seen some sense. He wasn’t exactly an ideal ally.’
‘No.’ She was shaking her head now, trying to shrug off the heaviness that was crawling into her heart, her bones. ‘We didn’t fight. We just fell asleep. It was good. We were good.’ She started to pace, vaguely aware of the hysteria bubblinginside her. It was a mistake. This was a mistake. ‘He’ll come back. There’s obviously some kind of reasonable explanation.’
Theo watched her go from one end of the room to the other and back again. Ever so gently, he said, ‘There is an explanation, Sera. This is what Ransom Hale does.’
She stopped pacing to glare at him.
‘He makes promises to you. And then he breaks them.’
She resisted the urge to fling a cushion at him, to wipe that god-awful look of pity off his face. ‘This time is different.’
He canted his head. ‘Is it?’
