We ride in defeated silence, the weight of our failure crushing. When we finally reach my estate, Corvask has to help us both inside. Healer Madris is waiting, summoned by Corvask's foresight.
"Gods above," Madris breathes, seeing Oliver's shoulder. "What happened?"
"Arrow wound, obviously."
Oliver is taken to his quarters. I limp after them, refusing to leave his side. Madris works quickly, cutting away Oliver's shirt, examining the wound.
"This is going to hurt," he warns.
"Just do it," Oliver groans.
I hold his hand as Madris pulls the arrow free. Oliver's grip tightens painfully, but he doesn't cry out. The healer works quickly, cleaning and stitching the wound, applying salves that smell sharp and medicinal.
"You're lucky," Madris tells him. "Few inches to the right and it would have hit an artery. You'd be dead."
Madris turns to me next, examining my ankle. "Sprained, not broken. You need to stay off it for at least a week."
A week. We don't have a week. We have hours.
After Madris leaves, Oliver and I sit in silence. The adrenaline has worn off, leaving only exhaustion and pain.
"It's over," I say. "We have nothing to fight him with. By tomorrow evening, he'll demand his answer, and I'll have no choice but to comply or face the council."
Oliver is staring at the wall, his expression unreadable. "There's still one option we haven't considered."
"What?"
He turns to look at me, and something in his eyes makes my breath catch. "We tell the truth. We go to the council ourselves, before Thrain can. We tell them everything."
"Oliver, they'll never..."
"Hear me out." He shifts, wincing at the movement. "We tell them about Thrain's blackmail, his threats, his attempts to force you into marriage. We tell them he's been murdering his livestock and keeping trophies. Even without physical evidence, our testimony might be enough to at least open an investigation."
"And what about us? About our relationship?"
"We tell them that too. We don't hide it. We own it." His hand finds mine. "We tell them I'm not livestock to you anymore. That I'm...whatever I am. Partner. Lover. Whatever word fits."
"They'll destroy us both."
"Maybe." He squeezes my hand. "Or maybe some of them will listen. Maybe some of them will see that the system is wrong, that treating sentient beings as property is wrong. It's a long shot, but it's all we have left."
I want to dismiss it as naïve, impossible. But looking at him, at his determination, I feel my chest tighten.
He's right. It's our only option.
"If we do this," I say slowly, "there's no going back. Even if we win, even if they believe us about Thrain, everything changes. Our relationship becomes public. I'll be ostracized. You'll be seen as...I don't even know what."
"An uppity human who doesn't know his place?" Oliver's smile is grim. "Let them see me that way. I don't care anymore."
"I care. I care what happens to you."
"I know." He pulls me closer, mindful of both our injuries. "But I care more about having a chance at a real future with you than I care about playing it safe."
My throat tightens. "A real future."
"Yeah. One where we're not hiding. Not lying. Where we can figure out what the hell we are to each other without worrying about who's watching."
"That sounds impossible."
