Nim sank onto the bed next to Val and picked up his big hand between hers, wishing he was awake, even while she knew he was better off asleep.
“Where’s Keely?” she asked softly so that she didn’t disturb Val. Why wasn’t she taking care of her lover? Were they even lovers? Or had that been part of the lie to Ballanor too?
“Keely had her wound cleaned and bandaged and then took the last bedroom. I saw her briefly last night, but since she was stable, I left Tor to check on her.”
Nim looked around the room, taking in the fresh bandages hanging ready near the fire, the jars of poultices and ointments that had been made during the night. All the work that had been done while she was resting. Guilt prickled—she shouldn’t have left him.
“Do you want to take a break? I can sit with him.”
“I just had a break. Mathos sat with Val while I slept. I’ve only been back long enough to check on his dressings and settle in. And whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. You were of no use to anyone last night. It was wise to recognize the strengths of others and to trust us with your brother.”
Nim nodded slowly. She didn’t know about any kind of wisdom, but she did recognize that the Hawks were full of strength. And she knew she could trust them with Val’s life.
But why Mathos? Why not Tristan? She thought he’d been with Val. Honestly, the only reason she’d been able to go to sleep was because she thought he’d been looking after her brother for her.
She wanted to ask, but hesitated. Why had he still not come to find her? Where was he?
“Where are we?” she asked instead.
“Reece has a friend….”
She rolled her eyes. Of course he did.
Rafe snorted softly and continued, “…who has a brother in need of some quick cash, happy to loan us his farmhouse and take his family out of the city for a few days.”
Thinking about Reece and his friends reminded her of the carriage drive to the palace. It was the last time she’d really spoken to Tristan. So much had happened since then. And now he was avoiding her.
She tried to shake it off, the stab of hurt. She should be worrying about Val, Alanna too, not Tristan. Shouldn’t she?
Rafe watched her steadily, not speaking. As if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Gods, he probably did.
She lifted Val’s hand and gave it a small kiss before settling it back on the covers and then gently sweeping his hair out of his face.
“He’s doing as well as we could hope,” Rafe murmured gently.
“Yes,” she agreed and then added softly, “I can’t ever thank you enough.”
Rafe shook his head. “We should never have left him.”
Nim smiled sadly—everyone had made mistakes. The Hawks had never had any kind of real choice, if they had stayed when Val was arrested, they would simply have been imprisoned with her brother. Val should have trusted them, trusted her, with the truth of what was happening at the palace, long before it got to that point.
She had already forgiven them all, now they needed to forgive themselves.
She leaned over and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks, Rafe, for everything you’ve done.”
He nodded against her hair. Understanding. Then leaned back and gripped her shoulders to look at her intently. “You’ll need to fight for him.” Rafe’s voice was low, but his expression was serious.
“Of course—”
“Not Val. Tristan.”
“I, uh…,” she stuttered and then closed her eyes and let her head fall forward as understanding slowly crept in. He was so convinced he was unworthy. So certain that the people who should have loved him would leave. He had thought Val’s regard for him low enough that he could betray him. Maybe he had never allowed himself to trust that when she said that he was hers, she’d meant forever. And he would be punishing himself viciously for what had happened.
“Where is he?”
“He spent the night securing the farmhouse, setting up watches and working on escape plans. In between, he helped with Val. He checked on you several times.”
“He didn’t sleep?”
