Her life is worth a thousand times more than an estate.
My certainty is so startling, I nearly stumble over the overgrown path I traverse. Had I considered such a prospect a week ago, I might have been swayed in the opposite direction. I never imagined anything could be more important than reclaiming my inheritance. Rebuilding my father’s legacy. Making up for my terrible wrongs, my reckless gamble, my great shame.
But meeting Astrid changed things. Only a little at first, but after the other night, when I climbed on the bed in my bear form and felt her small body press against my belly…it broke something inside me. Or perhaps stitched it back together.
It made me remember things I’d long since forgotten.
A rustling sound comes from my right. I halt in place and turn toward it, breathing deeply. Every hair on my body stands on end as my senses go on high alert. The manor is within sight now, but the path to it is just as overgrown as the fields. I breathe deeply, smelling several animal aromas nearby. I’d been too preoccupied with my thoughts to notice before. Another rustling comes from the other side of a tall wall of shrubs that once were waist-high hedges. With slow, careful steps, I approach the source of the sound. I spread my fingers, ready to extend them into claws at the first sign of danger, and push the bushes aside.
A small brown shape freezes at the sight of me. The scent of panic fills my nostrils, but it floods me with relief. It’s a damn rabbit. The creature bolts away faster than a train. Only then do I notice the family of deer farther out in the field. At my sudden appearance, they too leap away, darting toward the woods at the edge of the field, sending up a flurry of birds, and—is that a kelpie? At the far end near the tree line, a large, dark, equine form takes off with the rest of the startled creatures. I frown, debating whether to give chase, but Queen Tris isn’t known to associate with ill-reputed unseelie fae, like kelpies. And I doubt she sent rabbits or deer families to hunt me and Astrid down either.
I return to the path toward the manor, shaking my head at my own jumpiness. As far as I can tell, Astrid and I are safe here. Every day since arriving at the estate, I’ve searched the property, seeking any scents that don’t belong, smelling for hidden magics, traps, or enchantments. Each day I’ve found nothing but my neglected land and the wildlife that thinks it’s a wonderland of free food. There’s nothing to suggest Queen Tris knows I’m here or even suspects it. I’ve smelled neither Marybeth’s false floral aroma nor her real one. The scents I’ve picked up are those belonging to animals and unseelie fae.
Still, the sooner we prove Astrid’s innocence, the better.
* * *
Once inside the manor,I head straight for my former bedroom. As I reach the top step of the staircase, a soft sound reaches my ears. Astrid’s scent fills my nostrils, telling me she’s awake. My pulse kicks up. Is that a whimper I hear? Is she in pain? I all but run the rest of the way up the stairs, flinging open the door as soon as I reach it.
I halt just beyond the threshold as I take in the sight before me. I’d expected to find her coated in a sheen of sweat, lips pulled into a pained grimace. That’s how she’s looked during every moment of wakefulness the last couple days. Instead, I find her…smiling.
Four kittens pounce around her while Mama Cat—I remember that’s what Astrid calls her—lays on the center of her chest like it’s her throne. That can’t possibly be comfortable for Astrid, especially as weakened as she must be right now. My first instinct is to shoo the cat away, but Astrid’s wide grin has me frozen in place. Not only is it the first time she’s looked anything but miserable in days, but she’s let down her magic, giving me one of those rare yet breathtaking glimpses of her true face. She’s paler than before with half circles of violet hanging beneath her eyes, but there’s a brightness to her that wasn’t there before. Perhaps not even since I met her.
Slowly, she turns her gaze to mine. My heart sinks as her face falls beneath a haze. I continue to see her smile, but it has shifted from a clear vision to a soft impression. “Torben,” she says, her voice coming out raspy. “How long have I been…recovering?”
“Almost three days.” I approach the bed, finding an unexpected nervousness humming through me. It sends my heart pounding in a new rhythm. I try to offer a comforting smile only to realize that’s not something I normally do. So I clear my throat and take a seat at the edge of the bed. The four kittens immediately swarm around me. I absently pet them, but my eyes are locked on Astrid. “How are you feeling?”
She gives a weak shrug. “Tired. But also…good. Surprisingly so.”
“How is your temperature?”
“Fine, I think.”
I lift a hand toward her. “May I?” My voice holds a tenuous quality, one that makes it sound foreign to my own ears. At her nod, I lay my hand gently over her forehead. My palm buzzes at the contact, at the feel of her soft skin. Her fever has abated, leaving only the appropriate amount of warmth emanating from her flesh. That doesn’t explain why I suddenly feel as if I’m being burned by the sun. Heat glows from my chest, radiating down my arms, my hands. Despite my initial test of her temperature proving favorable, I find myself moving my hand to her cheek.
Her throat bobs. “How do I feel?”
“Good.” The word comes out strained. “You feel…wonderful—I mean, your fever is gone.” I wrench my hand away from her.You feel wonderful?What the hell was that supposed to mean? I reach for the side table and retrieve a glass of water. “Are you thirsty?”
She nods and tries to sit up. The movement finally forces Mama Cat off her chest, but she winces before she can fully sit.
“Here,” I say as I prop pillows behind her until her upper body is more elevated. She accepts the cup and takes a few sips before handing it back to me. I exchange it for a bowl of fresh berries I picked early this morning before I began my survey of the property. “Hungry?”
She shakes her head and settles back into the pillows. Mama Cat climbs up and plants herself next to Astrid’s head while the kittens continue to pounce. Madeline claws her way up my back and settles on my shoulder like she did when Astrid made me hold the little beast. I release a chuckle and give her a few pats, then return my attention to Astrid.
“I must check in with Queen Tris soon.” I extract my coin from my waistcoat pocket. It rumbles with a subtle vibration, too minor to be seen with the naked eye, but enough to alert its holder. This is what happens when I’m being summoned by whichever royal I’m currently working for. When I had my Chariot, I checked in with Tris before she needed to summon me, all so I could flaunt the object I knew she so greatly desired. Now it’s been buzzing for days. I expected as much. Even if Tris truly is controlling Marybeth and knows everything that happened at the Seven Sins, she’d still need to keep up appearances by demanding an update on my mission. I pocket the coin again. “I can’t put it off too much longer or she will come looking for me.”
Astrid’s scent flares with panic. “All right. What will we do?”
“You still need to recover,” I say, giving her a pointed look. “Until I get a confession from Tris, we can’t have her knowing where you are. To keep her from suspecting that we’re staying here, I need to check into a hotel for one night near the palace and pay with the Alpha Council’s funds. I could bring you with me and set you up in your own room at a different hotel, but I believe you’ll be safer here.”
“I’m comfortable here,” she says, “but are you certain Tris doesn’t know where we are?”
“I can’t be certain, but I’ve scented nothing to suggest anyone has set foot on this property. There are no suspicious aromas lingering, and I’ve found no scent of magic to suggest she’s laid enchantments that could alert her of our presence.”
“I’ll stay here then.”
Even though I know it’s safest that she doesn’t come with me and risk being seen by someone who recognizes her as the runaway princess—regardless of whatever false impression they’ve come to know her by—I can’t help but feel empty knowing she’ll be alone. Far from me. “If all goes according to plan, I won’t be home until tomorrow night.”
