“Much like how you insist on arguing with me?” his father asked, his tone still flat.
“I simply think it’s a waste of resources, but if it’s what you wish, we’ll travel to Westbury before making our journey to Charibert,” Theo grumbled.
“Take the time to heal and recover. Deavopan suffered significant losses and likely won’t return anytime soon. I also don’t intend to send my soldiers wounded. Gather a list of names of who you wish to accompany you.”
“Bennet won’t be leading this mission?”
“No,” his father snipped, his annoyance finally leaking through. “I would think you’d be grateful for an opportunity such as this after your stunt.”
Theo ground his teeth together.
“What happened here that morning?”
Theo turned from him, drawing his gaze toward the bay. “I’m bringing Amaris with me.”
“Don’t change the subject, Theo.”
He gripped the armrest, fighting the emotion flooding his system. “Taking a small squadron to Westbury and then all the way to Charibert without a mystique would be reckless. I’ll make a list of who I intend—”
“Theo,” he said, “I’m aware of what happened in Oystein Castle thatnight and what followed in Rongstad Prison.”
Theo couldn’t hold back the tear that rolled down his cheek. His stitch was gone, and his mental shields were in shambles.
“I wasn’t sure of it until Esaias said you were tortured when Bennet ordered you dragged outside.” He rounded his desk, settling on the edge before Theo, whose hand trembled on the armrest. His father laid his hand over his, wincing as he took a knee.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
Theo’s eyes dropped. He couldn’t pull his line of sight from his father’s hand resting against his. He couldn’t look into his eyes, but his father cupped his other hand around the back of his neck. Theo fought it, but he finally lifted his eyes to meet his father’s. For a moment, he wasn’t the duke, but a father aged by the stress and worry of a long life. A flood of tears fell from Theo’s eyes. His father pulled him to his chest and wrapped his arms around him as he sobbed.
Chapter 47
Amaris
“Amaris.”
She brushed away the faint whisper, wanting to continue her dreamless sleep.
“Amaris,” they muttered again.
She begrudgingly opened her eyes and adjusted to the light streaming into the hall.
“Adelaide?” she asked, stretching her arms and letting out a big yawn. She sat up, straightening her back. Sleeping on the floor had seemed like a good idea last night, but she was regretting that decision now.
“You’re alive,” Adelaide whispered, scooting closer and hugging her.
It took Amaris several more blinks to wake up entirely. Adelaide pulled back, and Amaris instantly awakened at the sight of her crooked nose.
“Your nose,” she said.
Adelaide touched it, wincing. She gripped either side of her face and took a deep breath. Before Amaris registered what she was about to do, Adelaide shifted her nose back into place. Grabbing for a ball of cloth beside her, she pressed it to the fresh blood trickling down her lip. Amaris blinked.
“Happens more often than you think,” she said in a nasally voice against the cloth.
“How do you feel?” Amaris asked, released from her stupor.
“I just woke up, but I think I’m fine.” Adelaide offered a shrug and sat up. She twisted her back but winced and grabbed her side.
“I’m well, too, thanks for asking.” Esaias sat up beside her and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
