Her gaze dropped to the mark winding up her arm. She pulled back her sleeve, expecting to see the angry thorns that had been spreading like wildfire just weeks ago. But they'd... settled. The vines still traced her skin in elaborate patterns, but they no longer looked invasive. They looked like they belonged there, part of her rather than something consuming her.
And there, she leaned closer, were those tiny white buds? Closed tight, no bigger than pinheads, but definitely there. Flowers beginning to form along the thorns. Not golden, but white like promise, like potential.
She touched one gently, and the warmth in her chest hummed. Not the desperate, frightened pulse of before, but something content. Settled.
Like her.
The realization hit her like cold water. She wasn't looking for escape anymore. Hadn't been, not really, not since...
Since when? Since he'd held her through the night after Malachar? Since he'd dove into freezing water after her? Since he'd spent a week bringing her breakfast and memorizing how she took her tea?
"You want to stay," she said to her reflection, testing the words. They should taste like betrayal. Like defeat.
Instead, they tasted like truth.
But Thomas. Thomas was still down there, still suffering. And even if she didn't want that kind of freedom for herself anymore, he deserved it. Deserved more than darkness and chains.
She moved to her sitting room, finding the breakfast he'd arranged. Multiple dishes, all her favorites, still warm under silver covers. Enough food for three people, as if he couldn't quite stop himself from overcompensating these days.
Briar ate slowly, saving portions for Thomas. Not because she needed his help escaping, she didn't want to escape, God help her, but because he was human and hungry and forgotten.
She would advocate for him. When Eliam returned, she could ask for Thomas's release. Remind him that he'd been down there for years, that whatever crime he'd committed, surely he'd paid for it. Eliam had been... softer lately. More willing to accommodate her requests. Maybe he'd listen.
But first, she needed to talk to Thomas. Needed to explain that she wasn't seeking escape anymore, but she hadn't forgotten him. That she'd try to secure his freedom even if she was choosing to keep her own chains.
The warmth in her chest pulsed uneasily as she gathered the saved food. It knew she was about to go to the dungeons. But this time, the pulse felt less like a warning and more like... concern? Like it worried for her safety rather than trying to stop her betrayal.
Because it wasn't betrayal anymore, was it? She was coming back. Shewantedto come back.
The leaf felt different in her hand too. Less like a tool for deception and more like simple concealment. She wasn't sneaking around to plot against Eliam. She was sneaking around to help someone, then returning to where she... belonged?
The word should terrify her. Instead, it settled in her chest next to the warmth, finding its home.
Tonight, she'd visit Thomas. She'd bring him food, explain her intentions, and promise to speak for him.
When Eliam returned from his preparations, she'd be here waiting. Not because she had to be.
Because she wanted to be.
The thought was somehow more frightening than any escape attempt could have been.
Chapter twenty-nine
The familiar weight of food in her pockets should have been comforting, but shame made each step toward the dungeons feel heavier than the last. A week. She'd left Thomas alone for an entire week to survive on whatever reserves the first feeding had given him.
The familiar shimmer of the hidden door appeared in her peripheral vision. She touched the handle, and reality bent to allow her passage. Down, down into the oldest parts of the castle where even dust seemed afraid to settle.
The moss responded to her touch with eager light, painting the ancient stones in phosphorescent green. Each step down felt like sinking into another world, one where the careful warmth Eliam had cultivated in her rooms couldn't reach. Where the air tasted of centuries and forgotten things.
Her chest felt strange tonight. Lighter, somehow. The decision had been forming all day like morning frost, delicate, inevitable. She didn't want to leave anymore. Didn't want to chase freedom when captivity had begun to feel like... something else.
"Thomas?" Her voice echoed strangely in the chamber.
Movement from the far cell, quicker than she remembered. He met her at the bars with surprising energy, and in the moss-light she could see the change. The hollow cheeks had filled out slightly. His shoulders no longer looked like a skeleton's frame. Even his hair seemed less limp, catching the green glow with hints of gold she hadn't noticed before.
"My savior returns." His voice had lost that broken quality, though he still rasped slightly. "I was beginning to think I had just dreamed of you."
"I'm sorry. I was... unwell." She pulled the food from her pockets: bread still warm from dinner, cheese, dried fruits, even meat wrapped carefully in cloth. "But I brought extra."
