Daziel looked up from where he sprawled on a four-poster bed draped in green silks. At first glance he looked so like himself I let out a huge breath, almost dizzy with relief.
But then I clocked the tension in his body. I heard it when he spoke, his voice coiled tight. “Took you long enough.”
“Lord Daziel,” the Speaker said, but Daziel ignored him. Instead, he was in front of me so confusingly fast the Speaker squeaked and Aunt Tirtzah inhaled sharply. The soldiers stiffened.
Daziel didn’t look at any of them. He focused on me, his black eyes searching. His hands found mine, and he squeezed, as though I was reassuring to him, as though he was drawing strength from my presence. “You came.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. “Of course I did.”
“It has been decided,” the Speaker said. “You are to stay with your betrothed’s family. There are conditions—”
“I’m shocked,” Daziel drawled.
The Speaker flushed.
“Goodbye,” Daziel said, interweaving our fingers and tugging me toward the door. He nodded to Aunt Tirtzah, who stiffly returned the greeting.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Did they hurt you?”
He sniffed. “They locked me up. An assault to my pride and my dignity.”
Serious words delivered lightly, but I could tell he meant them. I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”
Aunt Tirtzah spoke. “Chava’s having Samuel meet us by the north entrance. Less prying eyes.”
A few minutes later, Aunt Tirtzah, Daziel, and I were settled inside the carriage, Chava seated with Samuel on the outside.
“So, Lord Daziel,” my aunt said as soon as the doors were closed and she’d smeared neshem across the spell for soundproofing and activated it. “Care to tell us the whole story?”
He sat beside me, clenching my hand in his lap. He blinked innocently at Aunt Tirtzah across from us. “The whole story?”
“What a high shayd is doing in Talum,” she said calmly.
“They think only a high shayd could cast the spell at the Rocks,” I hurriedly explained. “It’s the only explanation they could come up with.” I tried to convey I hadn’t said anything about the binding, but it probably came off as an eye twitch.
“My niece is quite insistent on believing you’re a wild shayd,” Aunt Tirtzah said. “I don’t think she will believe anyone but you. Would you mind putting the matter to rest?”
Daziel’s mouth pressed together. He drew back the curtain, gazing out at Society Hill as we rolled past lush gardens toward Aunt Tirtzah’s home. It was early evening now, and the sun almost completely set.
“It’s okay,” I said to him softly. “I know you’re not a high shayd. You don’t have to explain anything.”
He stilled. Then he turned to look at me, the gauzy curtain falling shut.
It wasn’t any one thing about his expression, or the way he held himself, but all of them combined—the stiffness of his shoulders, the cant of his chin, the brackets around his mouth and the faint furrow between his brows. All the air was sucked out of me. I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, like the floor had been stolen away from beneath me.
“What?” I gasped, staring at him. The world tilted. All my senses were misaligned, a hair off from normal. But—no. The spell had worked because we were bound. I swallowed, my throat dry. “I’m sorry.Areyou a high shayd?”
He winced.
Oh.I blinked rapidly, my stomach roiling. If he was, then—he’d lied to me. “Oh my god. Youare.”
“Naomi—” He reached for me.
I leaned back. There was no room for rational thought in my mind, only confusion and hurt and the desire to excuse myself from this situation. I fumbled for the carriage door’s handle and pushed it open.
My aunt sucked in her breath. “Naomi, stop—”
Daziel frowned deeply. “What are you doing—”
