Page 85 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain

Alethea wasn’t used to this kind of emotion as Kerrigan spoke of the youngest Delaney. All the fire in her eyes had been doused when she looked at Alethea. It only lasted for a moment before she cleared her throat, clenching her fists.

“You’re one of us now. And anyone who fucks with you is going to have to deal with the rest of us.”

Kerrigan’s words resonated deeply within Alethea, bridging a gap between them. She could tell this was her extending a hand in the dark in a way that was just as meaningful as a warm hug from Emi or a reassuring look from Balthasar.

Alethea’s eyes swam with tears she refused to let fall as she gave the fire mage a nod. “Thank you.”

Ker nodded as she stood, unwilling to linger any longer. The fire mage murmured a few final words to Nakir and Balthasar before she departed, closing the door behind her.

“You have served my family longer than anyone still living, and for that reason alone, I permit myself honesty: I am afraid.

My daughter has vanished, carrying with her a prophecy that—if interpreted against me—could cost me both the throne and my life. I cannot allow either.

I need you to do what you have done for us before. Find her. Contain the damage. Bring her home before the Realm senses weakness.

You know better than most what happens when a crown slips. And you know exactly how far I will go to prevent it.

There is no price I will not pay. No law I will not break.

Help me, old friend. Before this consumes us both.”

—RECOVERED FROM THE ESPIONAGE ARCHIVES OF RAI’SHARR, AUTHOR IDENTIFIED AS QUEEN ZENOBIA ONASIS

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hunter’s Moon, Day 30.

Alethea collapsed on the bed, running her hands over her face as if doing so could push the tension out of her body. She could just about hear Balthasar and Nakir’s low-toned discussion, but she was too tired to figure out what they were talking about. She only opened her eyes again when she heard the door open and close. Balthasar had left—though why, she hadn’t heard.

She sat up to see Nakir leaning against the back of an armchair with eyes closed, his face pressed in frustration. She wanted to ask if he was all right, but it felt like a foolish question. All she could do was watch the way he drew in long, steady breath after long, steady breath until he lifted his head to her. His lips twitched like he wanted to smile but it wouldn’t quite come.

“You should get some rest,” he told her, and she wanted to agree, but she couldn’t force herself to move.

“Everyone is safe?” she asked quietly, crossing her arms when she realized her hands were still trembling.

“Yes. Everyone is safe...Youare safe,” he promised.

She sighed, trying to release the tension that had gathered between her shoulders. She didn’t miss the way his gaze followed her hands hungrily as she kneaded her own muscles.

She crossed the room before she’d decided to, touching his face, tilting it toward the light. His pupils looked normal again. His color was good. She exhaled slowly.

“You frightened me,” she admitted.

“I know.” His hands covered hers. “I’m all right, Thea.”

She wanted to believe him. She’d been watching him all evening for signs of the nightshade. The sweat on his brow, his pupils, the careful way he’d been holding himself.

With a shaky breath, she stepped away from him, putting a little distance between them, as if the space might help her think straight.

“Sober yet?” he asked dryly, and she winced but managed a soft chuckle.

“I rather think so, unfortunately. Ambrosia was an... interesting experience.”

“Shall I fetch you more?” he teased. A beat passed before he admitted, a touch more seriously, “It was impossible to resist you at the Revel.”

Alethea leaned against one of the four posters of the grand bed. “Resist me?”

Nakir groaned, standing up straighter but keeping his hands on the back of the armchair. She tried not to notice the way they gripped the fabric—or the way watching them sent a heat right to her middle.