The citrus scent of her skin coasted over me as she motioned for me to turn, pulling my head into her lap. It was unfamiliar, the way she swept strands behind my ears, combing through them with gentle fingers.
It had always been the other way around in Csolenia.
My eyes caught the pale ink drawn on her hand, still beautiful despite the dirt that coated it now. I wondered if the heir mark felt the same way mine did—like a prison. A fate she hadn’t chosen, didn’t desire.
She told me it had been seven days since Gemma was murdered and Callum and I were thrown into that cell. Only days…
The scars on my back, the ones hacked into my spine, I was sure those had taken months to become permanent. I clutched the dagger to my chest, grip tightening instinctively.
Sweetness still coated my throat as I swallowed, Ronan’s blood haunting me, decadent and damn near addictive. My tongue shot out, sweeping over my bottom lip.
Elva bonked me lightly with the comb in her hand, “Did you hear me?”
“Ow.” I left the dagger laying against me and rubbed the tender spot on my scalp. “What did you say?”
She asked again, “Did you know?”
“Know what?”
A quiet, delicatetskslipped out, annoyance breaking from her poise. “Callum told me the Angel was the one who found the revolutionists at the cottage. Did you know?”
Her fingers pressed to my temples, circling slowly before diving back into my hair. I fought to stay awake, for a princess who's been doted on her entire life, she sure knew how to spoil others.
“Did I know an Angel was alive in Selvarra or did I know how he found them?”
She shrugged. “Both, I guess. Though, no one knew he was an Angel. I’m not even sure how Obrann found out. But Callum showed him the cottage when he was in his mind in the throne room.”
The comb ripped through a knot and my hand shot back, grabbing the hair that had surely been ripped out. “Ow.”
“Sorry,” she chuckled, twirling a golden lock around her finger before motioning me back into place.
Reluctantly, I complied. “How did Callum know he could trust Killian?”
This time, Elva’s strokes remained gentle as she sectioned off my hair. “They’ve met before,” she said, brows knitting. “He didn’t tell you?”
My stomach turned.
I’d forgiven Callum for not telling me about the dragons. He was protecting my identity, protecting mylife. That had been necessary. But another secret kept from me? How many more had there already been? Everyone we’d encountered, Callum already knew, while I was blindsided every damn time. Even Elva had known.
Her hands were gingerly finishing up the braid when she broke the silence. “Why did you attack the dragon prince?”
The cloth on my knuckles slid off as I sprung up from her lap, the ice within it already melting. Water sloshed free, spreading across the ground in uneven streaks. “He killed my snake.” I didn’t realize I’d angled the dagger in my grip until I felt the point pressing into my palm.
Elva’s fingers stilled, dropping my braid. “That’shim?”
I dragged in a steady breath, forcing it to even out before tucking the dagger into the hem of my pants. Close. Where it belonged.
“Yes.”
I don’t know why it didn’t feel necessary to tell Elva who, exactly, had managed to destroy the unkillable at the time. Perhaps I thought it would giveRonan more power, if everyone had known. Or maybe I just expected Callum to tell her.
“Hm…” She stood, straightening her dress.
I jumped up, closing the distance as she turned. “What, why are you making that sound?”
Holding up a shard of glass, she inspected her reflection, wiping a speck of dirt from her face. She dropped it to her hip, shrugging. “I’d forgive him.”
My arms shot out. “You’d forgive anything, Elva. Even when it’s you suffering.”
