“He needs to put a shirt on,” he says.
That spurs her into action. “Um. Yes. Clothes! Here.” She unbuckles the bag and drags out a shirt.
Simply sitting on the bench was painful, so I can imagine what moving my arms through sleeves will feel like.
My imagination does not do it justice. Setting my body on fire would hurt less. Noah helps as best he can, but by the time the loose fabric slides down my back, I’m dizzy and sweating.
Harper’s pitying glances are not helping.
I ease onto the bench, because the alternative is collapsing at her feet. When I speak, my voice is rough. “I told you what he would do. I told you I would not fault him for it.”
The words feel false as I speak them. Or … not false. Incomplete.
I would not have faulted Rhen for doing this to me alone.
Harper drops onto the bench beside me. I cannot meet her gaze.
“I fault him for it,” she says quietly.
“My lady,” says Zo, from near the horses. “If you wish to avoid detection, we should ride out soon.”
“Not yet.” Harper reaches out to take my hand. “Grey.”
I finally look at her. “I cannot take your pity.”
She closes her fingers on mine before I can pull away. “I don’t pity you.” She studies me. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She pauses. “You’re the one with magic.”
This is different from when Noah asked the same thing. Harper was trapped with us. She risked so much. The scar across her cheek is proof of that. The thought that I might have been able to fight Lilith in a different way is almost too much to bear.
“Forgive me,” I say. “I did not know.”
“You’re Rhen’s brother.” Her voice is so quiet. “All that time you were trapped together, and neither of you knew.”
“It would have been worse to know,” I say. But as I say the words, I realize I don’t know if they’re true. I frown. “And clearly it does not matter, if he plans to send the Royal Guard after me.”
“I … I wish you had told me. I wish you had told him.” Then she frowns, as if realizing how that would have played out. “I wish … I wish …”
“I wished a lot of things,” I say, “while the curse held us captive. Wishing solves nothing.” I pause and glance at Zo again. “You cannot stay here. If you are found with me … it would force Rhen’s hand, and I do not like to think of what he might do.”
Harper’s expression turns stony. “First, I’d like to see him try. Second, you flattened everyone in that courtyard—including him. He’s terrified of magic trapping him again.” She pauses. “He’s not going to come running after you without a strategy. I want to see if I can stop him before that happens.”
She is so fierce. I am reminded of why everyone in Emberfall believes she has an army at her disposal.
She won’t be able to stop Rhen, though. If he was willing to do what he did, he’s not going to stop now.
The door at the back of the inn rattles. I expect the innkeeper or his wife, but instead, Tycho stumbles through. He’s shirtless and pale, his eyes a little wild.
Jacob is right behind him, rubbing at his eyes. “See? I told you they were still here. Hey, Harp.”
“Hey,” she says, but her eyes are on the boy. “Tycho. Here. Sit.”
It’s not an order, but he bows his head and murmurs, “Yes, my lady,” before easing onto the bench as gingerly as I did.
Harper gets a good look at his back and her steely eyes return to mine. Her jaw is clenched. “This is too far.”
I do not challenge her. We all fall into silence. A breeze pulls a shiver out of Tycho.
I need a plan. When I first ran from Ironrose months ago, I was injured, but not badly. No one was looking for me, so I was able to find work at Worwick’s.
Now everyone will be looking for me. And likely Tycho, too.
Neither of us is in any position to defend ourselves. Anyone who offers shelter will be at risk.
“We need to run,” I say.
Tycho looks at me. His eyes are clouded with pain and exhaustion, but hope flares when he hears my words. “Yes.”
I shake my head. “I have nowhere for us to go.”
At the edge of the building, motion flickers in the early-morning mist and shadows. A cloaked body steps around the corner.
I stand. Zo draws her sword.
“Be at ease.” Lia Mara draws back her hood. “I have somewhere for you to go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LIA MARA
Less than twelve hours ago, I watched this man receive a lashing until it exposed the muscle of his back, and now he’s on his feet like he’s ready to face an army. He must have been fierce as a guardsman. He’s fierce now, even pale and unsteady in the cool quiet of the courtyard. The look in his eyes makes my heart skip and flutter until I’m unsure whether I should run or stand my ground or find a weapon.
“What are you doing here?” he says, and only the whisper of strain in his voice reveals his weakness.
“The same as you, I believe.”
“You followed us.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You were half dead. It was hardly challenging.”
Princess Harper puts a hand on her guard’s arm. “Put up your sword,” she says quietly. To me, she says, “You have somewhere they can go?”
“Of course. He would be welcome in Syhl Shallow.”
“No,” says Grey.
“I am offering sanctuary,” I say. “In a place where Prince Rhen cannot pursue you.”
“So you are suggesting I trade one sovereign’s torture for another’s.”
“Torture?” I nearly laugh out loud. “You are the rightful heir to Emberfall. My mother will not harm you.” Mother will probably line his pockets with silver and fill his ears with promises. Nolla Verin will take one look at his dark eyes and broad shoulders and fawn all over him.
I should be happy—proud even—but the thought makes my stomach twinge.
I take a step closer, and he tenses. I spread my hands. “You can barely stand. You said you have nowhere to go.” I glance at Princess Harper. “Whatever you believe of my mother and my people, I truly did come here in the hopes of bringing peace to both our countries. I would offer peace now.”
Harper frowns, and she looks up at him. “Grey—you aren’t safe here.”
“Syhl Shallow is several days’ ride from here.” He takes a slow breath. “And that is if we ride hard.”
“Then we travel while we can,” I say, “and rest when you need.”
“No,” says the man standing near the inn wall. I recognize him and the healer from the day they dragged Grey into the courtyard. Prince Jacob. His skin is tan from midsummer, his hair dark and curly like Harper’s.
Harper swears under her breath and says, “Jake. Please.”
“He’s sworn to me now. If he’s going anywhere, it’s up to me.”
My eyes snap to Grey. “You are the crown prince and you swore your life to another?”
“I didn’t swear my life. And I am not the crown prince.” Grey cuts a glance at Jacob. “I swore passage as soon as I am able. To return you to Disi, I need the bracelet gifted by the enchantress—and it was left in Rillisk when you arrested me.”