The arrow zipped through the air, cuttingthe feather off the first one and sinking an inch above it, right before Thorne’s hand stretched out to grab it.
He cursed and whirled to face me.
“Was that one better?” I called out.
His features morphed from shock to exasperation, a laugh slipping free as he shook his head. “Let me guess—you never needed help.”
I shot him a wink. “You were adorable, though.”
He stalked toward me with a predatory gleam in his eyes and a grin curling on his lips, abandoning the arrows. “You could have taken my hand off, you know.”
“Don’t you trust me?” I asked, tilting my head.
His smile faded as he drew nearer, and my own dropped as the air became heady and weighted. “With everything I am,” he said softly. He moved a strand of hair behind my ear, so close now that his chest brushed against mine.
Voices and footsteps crunching on leaves reached our ears from the path at my back, and his eyes shot up as he took a step away from me.
“Can I see you tonight?” he whispered.
I bit down on my lip. “Thorne, I?—”
“Please, Empress. One last time.”
My heart hammered so loud, I could hear it in my ears. Every beat whisperedyes. Every thump of my pulse murmured his name.
Before him, I never listened to my heart. It was always the most selfish part of me, and a leader couldn’t be selfish.
But perhaps one more time, I could be.
Swallowing hard, I met his gaze and nodded.
“Yes.”
50
Thorne
Aknock came from the door of my hut as I was packing a small bag for Marigold. “Come in,” I shouted, and it opened with a click.
“Thorne, dear?” Mother’s voice called.
I finished buckling the strap on the bag. “You’re early, Mother.” She had agreed to take Marigold for the night since I was expecting Clarissa. I’d told my mother I’d be out late in meetings with the Zelorias—I figured she wouldn’t be too approving of the truth. But we were on the last days of this tour, and the thought of never having another moment with Clarissa…
I needed to say goodbye.
“I know. But you said you wanted to be updated on any progress,” Mother replied, her voice a bit breathless. I peeked my head out into the hallway to see her standing with a small piece of parchment in her hand.
“Progress?”
“On your father.”
My muscles immediately tensed. I strode across the floor to meet her, keeping my voice low to not disrupt Marigold playing with her dolls by the window. “Has someone found him?”
I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to hear. Did Iwantto findhim? Did I want him to be alive, or for the last remnants of him to be buried somewhere deep in Mysthelm soil?
She shook her head, and relief mixed with uneasiness stirred in my gut. “No, but it’s more than I had last time. There are records from a cargo ship ledger stating a man by the name of Armand R. was aboard four years ago, but no mention of when he disembarked.”
Armand Reaux. My father boarded a cargo ship but never got off?
