My eyes burn, my throat aching like someone has set it on fire. “Oh, so your lies were for my protection?”
“Yes.” A muscle feathers in his jaw. “They were.” He shoves a hand into his dark hair. “And my own.”
“And when we were younger? Before you left?”
“I wanted one thing,” he says quietly. “You were my only escape.”
Strong, warm hands cup my face as he presses his mouth to mine. “Are you sure?”
My cheeks flame, and he presses even closer. “I need you to be sure, Arvelle. I never want you to look at me and regret.”
I study his face, as familiar as my own. Since the moment I met him this was inevitable. I look at no other boys the way I look at him. I trust no one the way I trust him.
Taking his hand, I boldly press it to my breast. He sucks in a breath, and I meet his eyes.
“I’m sure. I-I want you to be my first.”
He looks at me with his heart in his eyes. “If I have it my way, I’ll be your only.”
Misery coils through me, turning my limbs to lead. I blink back tears, refusing to cry. “I’m glad I was an escape for you. One you could abandon once you no longer needed that escape.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“I want you to stay far, far away from me.”
He shrugs, but his eyes harden. “That won’t happen until you’re free of Bran’s manipulations. Go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a difficult day for everyone.”
“Why?”
“Someone killed Tiberius Cotta. While he was sleeping in the palace. Under the emperor’s protection.”
The world stops. When it restarts again, I’m aware of Tiernon’s strong hands gripping my shoulders. He’s saying something, but I can’t hear him over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears.
The one sigilmarked making a difference in this empire. The gold-crowned fighting for mundanes and low-level sigilmarked. A man who fought for peace. A man from the Thorn. A man who saved my life with his weapons.
And I’ve murdered him.
“Arvelle.” Tiernon gives me a gentle shake. “Breathe.”
My lower lip trembles and I sink my teeth into it, pushing him away. He releases me, and I stumble into my bedroom, thankful no one has invited the Primus in.
For some reason, Rorrik wanted Tiberius Cotta dead.
And I’ve played right into his hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Years ago, before the twins were born, Kassia became sick. She shook with fever, her thin body racked with shivers. I sat by her side, heart pounding, ignoring Leon each time he attempted to shoo me away.
When the healer came, I memorized everything about him—from his bright red cloak to his huge satchel. There was no doubt in my mind that his satchel heldveryimportant things.
Eventually, Leon ordered me from the room. I spent the next several hours hovering in the hall, my ear up against the door. But by the time the healer left, Kassia’s fever had broken and I knew she would be out of bed within a few days. If not for that healer, Kassia might not have woken up.
When the healer finally opened the door, I stumbled into the room. Behind him, Leon was asleep, his head on Kassia’s bed while she blinked blearily at me.
The healer guided me away. “She needs rest.”
“Do you think I could be a healer like you one day?” I blurted out.
