"I know you're angry. You have every right to be. We've all been making decisions about your life, treating you as if your thoughts don't matter. But they do and when you stood in that courtyard and told us all exactly what you thought, I saw you. Really saw you. The woman who kissed me back, who survived everything this cruel world could throw at her,,."
The handle turned slightly under her palm. One full turn and she could open it, could face him, could apologize for not being the person he needed her to be, she could—
A hand clamped over her mouth from behind followed by an arm locking around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest.
"Not a sound," Thaine breathed in her ear. "He comes through that door playing hero, I put a blade through his righteous heart. Nod if you understand."
The threat froze her more effectively than any restraint. She nodded, the movement small and defeated.
"I should go," Arion said at last, unaware of the violence waiting just beyond. "I’m sorry if I disturbed you… you need rest. I just... wanted you to know that whatever you decide, you don't have to justify it. Not to me, not to anyone. You’ll always have an ally in the Star Court. Goodnight, Briar."
Briar tensed and Thaine’s arm tightened. There was a moment of silence and then footsteps retreating down the corridor. The sound of them leaving made something inher chest constrict—relief that he was safe, grief that another choice was being taken from her.
"How touching," Thaine murmured, already dragging her backward toward the terrace. "The noble prince pining through doors, it’s so very pathetic."
Briar twisted, trying to break free, but his arm squeezed tighter making breathing difficult.
"Did you enjoy that little confession? Must be confusing, wanting them both." His tone was light, lace with amusement at her plight. "Though after what you did with the Drak tonight, I'd say you're handling the confusion creatively."
Heat flooded her face, shame and anger mixing until she couldn't separate them. He knew about Karse. She shouldn’t have been surprised, he’d probably followed her, heard it all. The very thought of Thaine lurking in the shadows, watching—it made her sick to her stomach.
The terrace doors stood open, cold air flowing in and carrying the scent of dew and night-blooming jasmine. How long had Thaine been planning this? The breeze raised goosebumps along her arms, her nightgown too thin for the early morning's bite.
"Did you think it would help?" His tone stayed conversational as he maneuvered her toward the railing, though she could hear exhaustion threading through it. "Fucking something like that to forget about my lord? I'm curious about the logic. I wonder how he’ll reactwhen—”
That's when Frederick struck.
Water erupted from the decorative fountain to their right, not a gentle stream but a concentrated blast that caught Thaine full in the face. The water was ice-cold and he cursed in the old tongue, sputtering. His grip loosened just enough—
Briar wrenched free, staggered a few steps before she regained her footing and ran for the door. Her fingers grasped the handle and pulled.
The door didn't budge.
She looked and saw that vines had grown through the mechanism, around the frame, through the very wood itself. They were fresh, still green and supple, smelling of sap and earth.
When had he—
Pain exploded against her temple, sharp and bright. The world tilted sideways, the floor rushing up to meet her. Her knees hit stone, the impact jarring through already-bruised flesh. Thaine caught her before she could fall completely and hefted her over his shoulder.
Everything spun, nausea rising in her throat. She caught pieces through the growing haze—the terrace railing passing beneath them as he vaulted over, her stomach lurching at the drop. The garden rushed up, twenty feet that should have broken bones, but he landed in a crouch that barely jarred her. The impact still drove what little air remained from her lungs.
They moved through shadows while her vision swam, the world going gray at the edges. The scent of crushed mint assaulted her senses where his boots found an herb garden. Voices nearby, guards discussing increased patrols, their words floating just out of reach. She tried to call out but her mouth wouldn't work properly, her tongue thick and useless. The sound that emerged was barely a whimper, lost in the pre-dawn darkness.
The guards passed without stopping, their footsteps fading on gravel paths. Thaine kept moving, each step jarring her aching head, sending new waves of pain through her skull. She caught glimpses of water following as Frederick darted between fountains and puddles, his tiny form bright with distress, before the gray at the edges of her vision swallowed everything whole.
Pain split through her skull before she even opened her eyes. The world swayed in a way that had nothing to do with movement and everything to do with the throbbing above her temple. Her stomach churned, bile rising in her throat. She swallowed it down and forced her eyes open.
Trees passed overhead in a steady rhythm, their branches creating a canopy that filtered sunlight into broken patterns. She was moving, but not walking. Beneath her, around her, vines and roots formed a living cradle that rolled forward in waves. The plants erupted from the earth ahead, carried her forward, then sank back into the soil behind in an endless cycle. Bars of twisted wood rose on either side, curving overhead but never quite meeting—a cage that reformed itself with each surge forward.
Her wrists were bound in front of her with rope that smelled of sap and something bitter. A cloak covered her—Thaine's, judging by the scent of forest and steel—but her nightgown beneath offered little protection against the morning chill that seeped through the gaps in her moving prison.
She tested the ropes carefully, working her wrists in small circles. The bonds were tight but not cruel, professional rather than vindictive. Her feet pressed against the lattice of roots beneath her, feeling for weakness, for any gap that might—
"I wouldn't," Thaine said from ahead, not bothering to turn around. He walked with the steady pace of someone who had miles to go and no reason to hurry. "Those roots will take whatever pushes through them. You might get your body out, but your foot would stay behind."
To prove his point, a smaller vine near her ankle tightened briefly, not enough to hurt but enough to demonstrate how quickly the plants could constrict.
Briar pulled her feet back, fury replacing her methodical testing. "You kidnapped me."
