“Wisps.” He snuggles into my chest, careful to avoid my injury. “Spirits of the dead.”
“Those are dead fae?” My skin prickles, and I squeeze Emlyn tighter. The ones in the forest… they were my doing.
“Their spirits,” he continues. “The spark of the Land within us that gets released when we die.”
His voice lacks its usual flair. It’s… solemn. He’s had moments like this ever since White Spring. Not wanting to linger in such darkness, I change the subject.
“You never told me how you became a spy.”
Emlyn’s fingers fidget against the side of his cup. “My mom was Taran’s governess. When the queen was exiled, we moved into the palace. I think I was two at the time? Younger than I can remember, at least. We grew up together.”
Just like Caeo and me. “So he’s basically your brother?”
Emlyn snorts. “Definitely not—a prince can’t be brother to a commoner. Once he outgrew the need for a governess, they gave Ma a nice home in the countryside. I could’ve gone with her, but I stayed. Taran didn’t need a playmate anymore, so I needed a new purpose. He trusted me more than anyone, so being his spy… It made sense.”
“And now?” My mind drifts back to Emlyn’s reaction to his latest task. “Does it still make sense?”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “It used to be thrilling. Balancing between what I was willing to do and what was necessary. But now…” His eyes pierce through the darkness as they meet mine. “I find I don’t really want to take those risks anymore.”
Because of me?I offer him my hand, and he takes it, focusing his fiddling on my fingers.
Despite the relaxing heat from all the alcohol, my chest coils tight. I should be eager for tomorrow to come—it’s the whole reason I came here. Instead…
“What if we don’t show up tomorrow?”
A burst of laughter sounds nearby as Emlyn’s eyes flick to mine. “You’d abandon Caeo like that?”
I shrug, as my suggestion was trivial. “Ellie will be there. He’ll remember her, and he’ll go.” Just like Taran originally planned. He never wanted me here anyway.
Emlyn raises an eyebrow. “Do you really trust that’ll work out?”
Ancients’ sappy hollows…“No,” I sigh. Ellie just can’t stop making my life difficult.
“Then I’m going.” He squeezes my hand. “I don’t like Taran’s plan, but if he insists on doing this without willbending, I don’t have a better one.”
“Why won’t he? Why put everyone at risk?”
“He’s terrified of becoming his mother. Which is probably good, since I can’t think of anything more horrifying than Taran willbending as casually as she does. He’ll probably end up doing it anyway once everything goes to shit, so hopefully that happens before his plan gets us killed.”
“And then what?” My pulse quickens as I peer into Emlyn’s eyes. “What will happen after tomorrow?”
“Assuming everything goes right, and we both survive?” He takes a sip of his drink.
“It will. We will.”
A wry smile curls his lips. “To be mortal and able to say such things.” He exhales. “IfI were to imagine that’s true, and Taran gets his throne, I would hope that he’d let you stay. As you, not hiding behind a glamour all the time.” He tugs at my ear. “If you wanted to, that is.”
To spend the rest of my life here, among his people? A warm glow swells in my chest as I bring his hand to my lips, kissing his fingers. “I’d like that.”
Emlyn smiles again, but it doesn’t light his face like it normally does. My heart dims at the realization that threatens to burn a hole in it.
He doesn’t think it will happen.He really believes he could die tomorrow, but he’s doing it anyway. For Taran. For Caeo.
For me.
I’m seconds away from begging him to forget about it, to get the fuck out of here with me. But before a response forms, he pats my thigh. “I want to show you something.”
He leads me out of the bustling part of the city, through the dwindling crowds. We ascend to the canopy by way of wooden walkways spiraling up the trunks, connecting neighboring trees.
