His blue eyes fix on mine. “Do you like it?”
I stroke a thumb over his chin. “Very much,” I say, and I’m not really talking about facial hair at all.
He runs a hand across his jaw, capturing my fingers within his own. “Harristan will probably insist that I have Geoffrey shave it the instant I get back to the palace.” He goes still when he says that. “It feels so odd to say that after so many weeks.”
He looks up, over my head, at the dark porthole on the wall, and I follow his gaze. We can see the first hint of lights somewhere in the distance, the promise of cities in the more populous sectors.
“We’re almost home,” he says.
“I’ve missed Kandala so much.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Me too.”
Longing fills his eyes, and when he says the words, I hear the weight in his voice. But it’s notKandalathat he’s missing so much.
It’s his brother.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Harristan
It’s not hard to sneak out of Consul Beeching’s house. Or maybe my guards just allow me to do it, the way they did when I was a teenager. Maybe they think I’m running away from my duty and this is the only way they can keep me alive.
They’re wrong.
Regardless, I slip onto a horse bareback and jog out of the manor stables, then canter all the way to the Wilds. My heart was in my throat last night, pounding with panic, but now I’m settled with purpose. My letters are written, my goodbyes said. I even wrote a letter to Quint, left by his side on the bed.
And now I’m here, pulling open the barrier to the spy tunnel that leads into the palace.
Walking it alone for the last time.
I stare at the wall of the palace in the moonlight, wishing Stone-hammer’s Arch were still lit so I could see it a final time.
Ah, but there are so many wishes that I can’t make come true.
I latch my fingers into the wall and climb. Back into my quarters I go. The darkness is more absolute tonight. It’s later, the moon at a different angle.
A scratch of sound echoes behind me, and I spin, ducking low.
Then, to my absolute shock, Quint steps through the window.
“Quint!” I hiss. “Are you insane?”
“I rather feel as though I’m owed the same answer, Your Majesty.”
“Go back!” I say.
He holds up a piece of paper. “Tell Consul Beeching that what I am doing ensures the safety of all citizens,” he reads. His eyes flick up to find mine. “You couldn’t think to wake me?”
I frown and look away. “That’s notallI wrote.”
“You didn’t write nearlyenough.”
“Please, Quint. I need you to go back. I need—”
“Ineed to know what you’re doing.” He walks right up to me and hits me in the chest.
My eyes flare in surprise. But then I see his pain, and I put a hand to his cheek. “Forgive me.” I hesitate. “Sallister and Huxley will be here at dawn to wait for me. Possibly Baron Pepperleaf and any of their other allies. You know what they’re doing to the people.”
