Page 231 of The Poison Daughter
His thumb strokes along my jaw, and I close my eyes. It’s tempting. I haven’t slept well since Gaven died. I’m too afraid I’ll sleep through someone breaking into my room to kill me, or I’ll take another venture in sleepwalking onto the balcony.
It would be easier to give in, but I don’t need a hero. I have saved myself far too many times to need a man to do it for me.
I don’t bother to decline. I just walk into my room, close the door, and flop onto the bed next to Kyrin.
54
HENRY
Taking staff from the fort walls makes me very uneasy. We need every able body guarding the fort, especially on the three darkest days of the year, but if we want to carry out this final stage of our revenge plan, we can’t do it without some help.
We don’t have the manpower to take on the Carrenwells and every other magical family in Lunameade, but we do have strategists and the weight of rebel forces behind us. I am not the most devout person, but I prayed to the Divine when we were crossing the Drained Wood.
Leaving my parents alone at the fort without Carter or Bryce to back them up makes me very nervous. Saying goodbye to them felt so final. I’m less worried about the people of Mountain Haven and more concerned about what these evolved Drained will be up to in three days of darkness.
My parents don’t have the benefit of being Deathless like me, but I have to trust that they can handle things on their own. This isn’t a time to have my focus divided, especially when Harlow can read my agitation in my aura.
We’re staying in a luxury boarding house in the southwest quadrant of the city. It’s close enough to South Hold that we can travel there easily, but far enough away to give the illusion of independence.
It was Harlow’s idea. By not staying at her family home as soon as wearrive, we establish ourselves as a separate entity from the Carrenwells and, therefore, outside of their interest.
I button the last few buttons on my vest and slide on my jacket as I peer out the boarding house window. Carter and Naima are sitting on the back patio. Naima joined us for this part since she’s such an adept healer and it’s possible we will need more substantial help if things go wrong. She, Carter, and Bryce are all staying in the boarding house as well. The secondary benefit of staying somewhere other than Carrenwell House is that it offers them the opportunity to come and go without the Carrenwells noticing.
Naima tips her head back and laughs at something Carter says. Watching them is like getting a front-row seat to intimacy, whether you want it or not. It’s not the big, sweeping things. It’s a hundred small touches. It’s the way he can tell when she wants tea and always has her favorite kinds on hand. It’s the way she stops at our table and rests a hand on his shoulder when he’s tense. I still remember the day he came running into the bar to meet me and Bryce and told us he could see color. As happy as I was for him, I was also a little envious.
When I was young and carefree, I aspired to that kind of closeness, but I’ve spent years trying to cut the desire for love right out of my chest. I did not die so many times to allow myself a weakness when I’m this close to the vengeance my people deserve.
But I have starved that dream so long, it has become clawed and clever. If given even a sliver of a chance, it will take root again and grow into something unstoppable. Wanting is a dangerous thing. It is perhaps the one thing I can’t survive.
I am so aware of Harlow all the time—so attuned to her shifting moods. I sense her agitation. She’s both relieved and restless to be back in a familiar cage. When we rode through North Hold, she didn’t take her eyes off the windows of the manor the whole way. I don’t blame her. She wants to see her sister, and that desperation will only grow until she’s settled this score with Rafe.
I have tried everything I can think of to drive a wedge between Harlow and her family. The truth is that the wedge was already there, but none of what she’s learned has made her any more forthcoming about what magic her siblings or mother have. I’d hoped we would be a little more prepared, but I wasn’t counting on her finding out I wasDeathless before Dark Star Festival, and I really wasn’t expecting her to have to deal with losing Gaven so soon after that.
Instead of making her more willing to rely on me, she’s withdrawn.
I’m out of time. I have to do whatever I can to gain back her trust.
She brushes her hands over her dark dress and twists from side to side. I don’t need to see color to know it’s black. That’s the color everyone wears for Agony night.
I know she must be nervous, but I can only see the barest hints of it in her rigid posture.
I saw on her face when I told her about her father killing anyone blessed with holy fire. She knew it was true immediately, but she still believes there’s no other way to keep her people safe. I respect that she doesn’t play the hero, but she does have her own code. I just don’t know how to align our goals with that code.
She steps in front of the looking glass and slides a few pins into her curled hair to hold it back from her face. Then she presses a hand to her heart and looks down. She sighs and shakes her head, clasps her hands, and softens her face into a forlorn expression.
“Are you practicing looking sad?” I almost laugh at the absurdity.
She shoots me an annoyed side-eye. “Yes, Henry. Everyone is going to be looking at me in an hour as I say a bunch of untrue things about what a great man my creepy, criminal dead husband was. I need to look sad enough that they’ll believe my grief is genuine, but not so sad that they think I haven’t found healing in my new marriage to my mountain man husband.” She stares at her face again, shifting through several micro-expressions before she settles on one and turns to face me. “Does this face say, ‘I’m sad my husband died, but I’m glad I found someone new to marry me and give me value according to our flawed societal ideals for women’?”
I bite my lip. “I’m not sure it says all of that, but it looks sincere if that’s what you’re going for.”
She spins and wanders back to the mirror with a smirk on her face.
“Why are you so calm?” I ask.
She reaches over, adjusts my tie, and looks up at me with mischief in her eyes. “I can’t afford not to be.” She smooths the front of my jacket. “Oh, one more thing. I’m calling in that favor you promised me. I need you to say something after the ceremony, when we’re at the receptionfor the high houses.” Her voice is casual, but she won’t meet my eye.
“What do you need me to say?”
