“I’ll be fine,” she says, but I barely hear it over the word that echoes through my mind.
Home.
I called the manorhome.
It is my home, but it feels strange having said the word to Astrid as if…as if it were her home too. Or perhaps not strange, but entirely natural. Too natural.
I shove the thought away. “I’ll leave you food and water. There’s a stove downstairs if you’d like warm bathwater as well.”
Her lips stretch into a wide grin. “I’m not a pet, Torben,” she says, her tone light with taunting. “I’ll be fine. I’ll probably sleep the entire time you’re gone.”
She’s probably right, yet I ache to think of her alone here. Regardless of what I’ve sensed so far, there is a chance of danger. Blooming hell, what I wouldn’t give to just stay with her. To ensure she’s truly recovered. There’s another thought that crosses my mind—that she very well might leave the manor in search of Crimson Malus.
The thought has me bristling with a protective rage.
But if that’s what she chooses to do, I can’t stop her. I can only hope that having the poison out of her system will be enough to keep her from endangering herself with the drug.
Besides, I have a mission to do. And I’m running out of time. In just over a week, my bargain will claim my life unless it’s fulfilled or revoked.
“I should prepare to leave, then,” I say, lifting Madeline off my shoulder and setting her on the bed. I start to turn away from Astrid but feel her fingers come around my wrist. Her grip is weak but it stops me nonetheless. I shift back to face her.
“Torben…” Her mouth hangs open, but no more words leave her lips.
Furrowing my brow, I edge closer. “What is it?”
Her throat bobs several times, her scent flaring with a timid quality that matches how I’ve felt ever since seeing her awake. “It’s just…the other night, I…remembered something. But I don’t know if it was real.”
My chest tightens. “What do you remember?”
Panic invades her scent profile, as does the tang of embarrassment. She keeps her eyes on the ceiling as she says, “I remembered being a baby…and…and my father coming to take me from the lake after my mother rejected me. But I remember something that happened before that.” She pulls her blanket up to her chin and sinks deeper into her pillows.
Her words send my heart thudding wildly. I know exactly what she’s referring to. I knew it as soon as I laid next to her as a bear, for it sparked my own memories.
“It was soon after my mother died,” I say, my voice coming out with a slight tremble. “In fact, it was the day Father told me we’d be shifting from our unseelie forms and moving to the city of Larklawn. Even though I understood he thought we’d be safer joining human society in our seelie forms, I was upset Father didn’t want us to return to our bear forms ever again. I ached at the thought that I’d no longer be the bear cub Mother once loved. So in my rebellion, I ran from Father. At first, I thought I’d run away. Live alone and raise myself. But as I wandered Dewberry Woods alone, my anger cooled and was quickly replaced with sorrow. By the time I made it to Dewberry Lake, I knew I wasn’t going to run away. I was simply grieving. Saying goodbye to my last moments as a bear. It didn’t take me long to realize I wasn’t alone.”
Astrid finally turns her gaze to me. Her wide eyes lock on mine.
“I heard a baby’s cries at first,” I say. “Then I found her. A small humanlike infant alone and helpless. Like I was. That’s all I saw. A baby like me, someone who felt as weak and as vulnerable as I did.”
I swallow hard. Now I know why I’ve always seen Astrid the way I have. Because she already made an impression on me long ago. Already sparked in me a need to protect her.
She was crying when we met, so her mood dictated she form a negative impression on me and reflect back my worst qualities. At the time, the qualities I disliked most in myself were that I was small, weak, and vulnerable. That I was hurting. That I was afraid. Now that I’m older and have processed much of my grief, I hold no resentment over such qualities. It makes sense why Astrid’s magic provides such a hazy reflection. The impression we formed is old, based on the simple perception of a baby bear. A version of myself that I no longer am.
“I laid next to her,” I say, my voice growing heavier with emotion. “Whether it was to comfort her or me, I didn’t know. It just felt like the right thing to do. Soon, she stopped crying. She fell asleep. I did too. It wasn’t until I heard human footsteps that I ran away. After that, a man picked up the baby and took her away from the lake.”
Astrid’s eyes well with tears. One trickles down her cheek. It takes all my restraint not to brush it away with my thumb. Something soft brushes over my hand, and I realize she’s still holding my wrist. She absently strokes the back of my hand with her thumb, making me suppress a shudder. Her lips tremble as she speaks. “That was me.”
“It was,” I whisper, my own eyes stinging with a glaze of tears. “My last memory as a bear cub was of you.”
25
TORBEN
The next day, I arrive at Fairweather Palace and am immediately escorted to the throne room to await my audience with Queen Tris. Two fae guards dressed in rose gold armor lead me up to the queen’s empty throne and order me to stand before the dais. I do as I’m told and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
