“All right.” He was too overcome to say more.
“I love you, Jessie. I love all of you, more than words.” Adynara breathed deeply and walked back to the line.
“I love you, Mama,” he said, unable to speak until she was already gone, but she didn’t need to hear it to know.
With Elloven in his arms and his back to the past, Jesstin reached for the handle of the door marked YOU. Despite his mother’s request he not look back, he did. She stood in the line watching him, her arms crossed over her heart. He allowed himself one final look and returned his focus to the door and pulled.
It opened.
Cool air drifted through the opening. On the other side was a quaint, modest kitchen: a table, three chairs, a small stove in the back, and a window just beside it. Nothing that betrayed the location. It could have been anywhere.
“Elloven, I may not get the chance to say this again, so I’ll say it now and trust, somewhere, somehow, you can hear me.” Jesstin hiked her higher in his arms and swallowed so hard, he choked. “It was real. Nothing for me has ever been more real. Maybe there’s no future for us, but I won’t have you believing you’re unlovable. Whoever deserves your heart and wins it will be the richest man in the kingdom.” He laughed and wiped his nose on his upper sleeve. “And I’ll loathe the bastard to my dying day.”
He didn’t kiss her, though he ached to. From then forward, only the truth and the whole truth would do.
Jesstin closed his eyes, held Elloven tight, and stepped through one final door.
Chapter 14
Thirty-Three
It was still dark when Sesto woke. A whiff of frustration filtered through him. He’d spent years learning to sleep through the night, and it had been at least three since he’d experienced a nocturnal interruption that didn’t come with a sound explanation.
Daire snored on serenely beside him. That beautiful man could sleep through anything. Anything. He’d snoozed through riots passing right by their home on the hill, for Guardians’ sake. The next morning he’d blithely asked if the demonstrators had even come their way because he hadn’t heard a thing. Maddening.
But Sesto was still tired, and he’d fall back asleep if he didn’t let his mind wander too far.
Except, he could have sworn those were footsteps he heard in the kitchen. Heavy. Definitely a man’s. He and Daire never received unannounced visitors, especially not in the middle of the night. Taven was bedridden and could barely make it to the privy without assistance. Delinquency in Rivenholde had leveled off after the deaths of Estelar and Ryquin, and anyway, he and Daire had nothing of value to steal.
There was another explanation, but he’d let his hopes up too many times to do more than rule out the possibility.
Sesto nudged Daire, who murmured but slept on. He shook him harder. “Daire. Love. Daire.”
Daire moaned and flopped onto his back. He crossed his arms over his closed eyes and moaned again. “What? What’s wrong?”
“There’s someone in the kitchen,” Sesto whispered.
Daire’s arms fell away. He sat up. “Were we expecting anyone?”
“At this hour?”
“It is late,” Daire agreed.
Sesto nodded at the long piece of wood they kept propped in the corner. It wasn’t much for defense, but they’d never needed much. “I’ll go.”
“No.” Daire shook his head. “You’re tired. Let me.”
“Just be ready if I need you.” Sesto kissed him and slipped from the bed. He glanced over his shoulder with a nod, and Daire went for the paddle.
Sesto tiptoed down the short hall in the darkness. He heard even more commotion in the kitchen, enough to be certain it wasn’t his imagination. He paused just on the edge of the arched entry, pressed flat against the wall, and chanced a peek.
His gasp could have raised the dead.
A man leaned against the far wall. His arms flagged as though he’d been carrying something heavy, but they were empty. He was coated in grime and blood and a story that would no doubt be hard to believe.
The moonlight streaming through the paned glass was inadequate, but Sesto would have known the man anywhere, even in the black of night.
“Sesto?” Jesstin squinted. He hobbled forward. “Is that you?”
