No matter how long I stare at the throne tree, it doesn’t feel any more believable.
Any less incredible.
Seeing the vibrant leaves shooting out of the branches is enough on its own to give me deep satisfaction, but it’s the small pink flower bud that makes my heart so full that it feels like it might outgrow my chest.
It’s all because of her. Her patience and compassion. Her stubbornness and loyalty. Without her, I wouldn’t have this feeling in my chest, almost like an ache but better. Like thoughts of a warm fire after a long, cold day. The memory of your own bed after being away for too long. Painted flowers in the dead of winter. Thinking of Ingrid when she’s not at my side hurts, but it’s a good hurt because it only exists where our affection grows.
Without her, the reach would not be starting to flourish again.
And therecertainlywouldn’t be a flower sprouting from the throne tree if not for my bride.
To my knowledge, the throne tree hasneverflowered, and I can’t wait to show Ingrid the impact she’s had. There should be no doubt remaining in anyone’s mind about her fitness for the crown.
“Y-your Majesty?” Morwen says, stumbling as she shuffles into the room. Alone.
“How long will she be?” Knowing Ingrid, she’s grooming her ifrak or elbow-deep in spinning yarn. When she’s focused on a task like that, it gets her full attention, no matter what else comes up. I’m impatient to see her, but at the same time, it’s gratifying to know she’s found things that matter so much to her here.
“I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but…she’s…gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?” It makes no sense at first, but then there’s no denying it. Crownwood and I are more strongly connected than ever, and as I expand my awareness, I can tell she’s not within its walls. “Gone where?” I ask, voice lowering to a dangerous warning. This isn’t Morwen’s doing.
But whose is it?
Ingrid couldn’t have left the castle without being seen by half the keep. Unless…
Rotted bastard.There’s only one demon that can get in and out of Crownwood without detection.
“Where’s Val? Have him bring me the damned Dealmaker.”
“Your Highness,” Anumar says, bowing before me, his amber eyes never leaving mine. “I did not expect to hear from you again so soon.”
“No?” I growl, hands clenched into fists. It would be so easy to destroy the smug look on his face. I could make it so he never smiles again.
But that would get me no closer to Ingrid.
“Where is she?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific than that,” Anumar says, casually examining the backs of his claws.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve closed the distance between us and have him pinned against the wall.
“Don’t toy with me. You took my bride. Why? Where?”
The Dealmaker’s wolf-like ears flatten, pupils narrowing as the humor fades from him.
“Her contract was complete. Back to her home. Any other questions?”
“Her…?” My grip falters, and I release the Dealmaker, staggering back as the weight of his admission hits me. “What was—” I can’t even bring myself to ask about her contract.
If she’d wanted me to know, she would have told me.
“But…” I search for anything I can hang onto, any scrap of defense I might have. “Our bargain—”
“I promised to bring you a bride, Your Highness. It was up to you to wed her. Which you failed to do. A shame…it seems things have really improved here.”
He’s taunting me and I don’t even care. How can I? Everything I cared about is gone. Ingrid is gone.
I was actually beginning to believe I could do this.Wecould do this. I can’t do it without her. Not alone.
