I keep Kai in the dark about my early morning adventures and the statue that seems to have changed her mind about me. Chances are that he’ll see it as a reason to stay and protect me from whatever bogeyman hides in the dark here at Upper Nowhere. My brother, the martyr,charming. That, and I genuinely don’t think I’d be able to get anything done with my second shadow trailing me everywhere.
Kai’s bags are already packed by the time I make it to him. I lean my weight against the wall, pretending not to judge the way he does his tie in the hopes that he doesn’t notice my foul mood.
The plan goes to shit, obviously.
“You’ve got that Father Bariston look again.” He meets my gaze in the mirror, looping the fabric and strangling it. There’s caution in his tone, gentle enough to not provoke me. “What happened?”
“Her cousin’s a fucking weirdo.”
He gives an amused smile. “Really? That’s a shame. Been stalking her profiles all night, and the red hair was really doing something for me.”
“I’m talking about Edmund, you ass.” He pulls a sour face, as thoughI’mthe one behaving oddly. “What?”
“Edmund? Brother, I thought we already established he’s a fucking weirdo? Baked Bean’s warning should’ve been enough.” I don’t say anything. “Besides, suppers with him alone showed us he doesn’t have to try very hard to be unsettling, so for you to be glooming like that… What else did he do?”
I keep my eyes ahead and pause before speaking, selecting my words carefully. “I found him standing far closer to her than any cousin has the right to be.” Kai freezes, pivots slightly to face me. “It wasn’t innocent, Kairos. At least, not on his part.”
He processes what I’ve said and abandons his tie completely. I take the opportunity to occupy myself and step forward to fix it, lest my mind wander back to the cottage. The silk is uneven and too tight. I undo the knot with one clean pull.
“Did she do anything about it?”
Reluctantly, the memory slips back in. “No, just… tolerated it, I suppose. She simply sat there. Waiting. Seemed like she breathed for the first time when I interrupted.”
“That’s worse, then? That she didn’t react?” he asks with a sigh.
His breath lands squarely against the base of my throat, where my shirt gapes open just enough to feel it. I glance down, irritated more by the reminder than the sensation itself. That’s what I get for leaving my coat at Francesca’s. The shirt feels too thin now. Too open. I knot his tie with a grimace, then step back.
“Far worse.” Resolve hardens in my chest, the image of her wide-eyed and frozen on the counter flickering through my mind. “I had to give him an exit before I did something beyondstupid, but I’m not going to pretend that this interruption wasn’t long overdue.”
The conversation ends, and Kai, sensing the finality in my tone, doesn’t try to revive it. A flurry of footmen strides in when he rings the bell, and then we’re off to the car. Kai sits up front with Philip, much to the driver’s dismay, leaving me to slide in next to Francesca.
The spot where Kai is supposed to be becomes a chasm, with neither willing to risk the crossing. Likening the drive to a procession feels more than accurate, but I keep that comment to myself.Doubt anybody would’ve heard me over the sound of Kai yapping anyway. His voice ricochets off leather and glass, too-long limbs pointing out landmarks and asking Philip a million and one questions. He says something about marmalade, so I tune him out. Philip seems to be on the same wavelength, considering he turns on the radio.
Thankfully, Kai goes quiet, muttering one last thing about cows and sheep.
Francesca’s breath halts as music fills the small space. And again with the next song. Then another time. She sits hauntingly still, bracing herself for Connie Francis to come wheezing through the static once more. Every time the song changes, she straightens, just slightly.
I wait until the fourth song before leaning forward and saying, “Philip, kindly turn that off.”
He obeys without a word; a single twist of the dial, and the sound dies down. When I settle back, I feel her looking at me with an expression of utter gratitude, like I’ve reached into her bones and stilled something that trembled for who knows how long.
Thanking me would be too easy. Sheffolk to the bone, she turns away instead, legs crossed and mouth set because her gratitude has no place to go that won’t scare her. I saw her afraid.Because I heard that song in the woods, watched her get backed into a corner by her own memory, and listened to her speak of ghosts—and I didn’t call her mad.
Now she’s sitting next to the man who made it all real, who stands in the way of her chalking it all up to nothing to worry about.
Of course she’s silent.
What would she even say?
Our procession continues, lyrics replaced by gravel being crushed and the mournful melody sung by the trees as we pass. The private jet, sent by the Crown, is already waiting when we pull up. Philip takes care of the bags whilst the three of us stand in a somewhat awkward silence. The wind off the airstrip bites; it claws at us, smelling of fuel and dying leaves, and the jet waits behind like a massive warning. It may as well be another hound wearing my father’s golden leash.
Kai steps forward and takes Francesca into his arms. I watch her tense for the slightest moment and then allow herself to sink into the hold. She smiles as they separate. There’s a silent collision when our gazes brush, but her eyes dart away before I can chase the gratitude in them.
Perhaps, in time, she’ll ache for the truth she coaxed from my mouth by the lake, for the way my brother’s presence softens edges and fills hollow quiet.
As it does now.
“Well, Lady Francesca, I can’t pretend to understand Sheffolk, but you made this little trip memorable, I think. My stomach will be thinking of last night’s biryani for the next few days.”
