But then Grey says, “I heard you beat Rhen at cards, too. That’s good. He needs a little comeuppance.”
Jax chokes on a short laugh. “Well. Just the once.”
“I regret that I won’t be able to see it myself.”
I scoff under my breath. I can’t believe they’re having a normal conversation.
Grey looks at Jax, and a light sparks in his eye. “Tycho thinks we should be serious,” he says, very seriously.
Jax affects a stern disposition. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
I let out a breath through my teeth and flick my eyes skyward— though I suppose I do appreciate their attempts at levity. “Maybe I should just kill you both and get this over with.”
Jax laughs under his breath. But then the king looks over at him. “Grey,” he says, any teasing gone from his voice. He puts out a hand. “If we’re going to die together, it should be on a first- name basis.”
Jax’s breath catches, but only for a moment. Then he puts out his own hand to clasp the king’s.
“Grey,” he says, and his voice is only a little breathy.
Then he lets go, and it’s as if sudden emotion captures all three of us. For a moment, a wave of . . . ofregretwashes over us, and it’s like even the horses can feel it. All three of the animals seem to want to whirl to return to the barn. I give Mercy’s rein a twitch and urge her forward.
“All right,” I say, fighting for the same levity, though I’m never the one to bring lighthearted humor to any occasion. “Go back to joking about our impending doom.”
Grey looks at Jax. “What did it feel like to punch Alek? I’ve been wanting to do that foryears.”
Jax grins. “You should’ve let me do itagain.”
“Why do you think I let you do it the first time?”
That finally makesmelaugh— but then my heart gives a tug, choking off the sound almost before it starts. This is the kind of moment I’ve always longed for, where family and friendship and love all twisted together in my heart . . . and now it’s going to be over in a matter of minutes. In a matter ofseconds.
I swallow.
“He was trying to apologize,” Jax says, musing, and that gets my attention.
I look over. “To you?”
He nods.
Grey looks at him. “You didn’t want to hear it?”
“No.” Then he grimaces. “Maybe I should have let him.”
“Why?” says Grey. “Forgiveness is earned, not owed.” He pauses as if he wants to say something else, but then he thinks better of it. The weight of unspoken words hangs between us, and it takes me a moment to figure it out.
Alek won’t have a chance to earn forgiveness.
“Do we have a plan?” I say softly.
“I do,” says Grey. “But if they have a scraver, they’ll hear it.”
A cool breeze winds between the trees, and then a voice finds us.
— Yes, magesmith. I will.
My hands grip tight to the reins. I scan the trees overhead, but see nothing. The woods are dense here, and it’s midsummer, and the lane is narrow.
I first taught Jax to shoot an arrow just near here. I could close my eyes and remember that day in the snow, folding my hand around his, listening to the sound of his breath, feeling those first flickers of attraction and desire and being so unsure if I could trust my heart.
