I hate that those words make something in my chest twist. Not because I believe they excuse a damn thing, but because some tiny part of me almost pities him.
Lord Yelling lifts his head, eyes wet and shining. “Wren is kind and sweet and everything anyone could ever want. Even his bratty side is desirable.”
I close my eyes for half a second. He’s not wrong. Wren is all of those things. Sweet and sharp and impossible and bright. He’s brave even when he’s scared. He walks into a room and lights it up even when he’s in a sour mood.
But Wren doesn’t want Lord Yelling. Wren wants freedom. And, somehow, impossibly, he wants me. When I open my eyes again, Lord Yelling is staring at the floor. I don’t forgive him. I never will. But I understand enough to know obsession can rot into something ugly if you let it.
I step forward and bow my head to the throne. “Thank you, Your Majesty. If you’re agreeable, I’d like to return to Wren.”
His Majesty studies me for a beat, then nods. “Before you go.”
He descends the rest of the dais and stops directly in front of me. Up close, the king is even more intimidating. He reaches into his sleeve and withdraws a thin yellow ribbon. He offers it to me. “Give this to Wren.”
I take it carefully. It hums warm against my fingers.
The king exhales, and for the first time, his stern expression shifts into something almost regretful. “I may have been too harsh in punishing him for requesting release from his contract. This will dissolve his banishment and restore his ability to walk between veils.”
For a second, I just stare at him. Wren can come back. Wren can travel again. He can have that piece of himself back, the one that was torn away so cruelly. The relief that crashes through me is so sudden my knees almost give.
Wren’s mother gasps. “You’ll truly let him back?” she asks, voice trembling.
The queen smiles at her husband. His Majesty glances at her, then back at Wren’s mother.
“Yes. My queen has made me realize the error of my judgment. Wren didn’t deserve to be severed from the only lifehe really knew. If he wishes to return to the Winter Court, we will find him a position better suited to him. He will have quarters befitting his station as your son.”
Wren’s mother makes a strangled sound and throws her arms around the king.
I look away very quickly because it feels like a private moment, but it only lasts a second before she lets him go and whirls toward me instead.
There’s no time before she launches herself into my arms. She’s small and warm and smells like jasmine. Her arms wrap around my shoulders with startling force. It takes everything in me not to flinch from the sudden contact. Not because I don’t want it, but because I’m not used to it. I don’t know what to do with spontaneous affection from Wren’s mother.
“Thank you,” she says fiercely, squeezing tighter. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
Then she kisses my cheek. My face burns so hot I’m surprised the frost on the floor doesn’t melt. “It’s nothing.”
“It is not nothing,” she says, pulling back just enough to look at me. “Griffin. You brought my son justice when this court failed him.”
I swallow hard. “Talon,” I blurt. “My name’s Talon.”
Her smile turns soft. “Thank you, dear Talon.”
Something in my chest squeezes painfully. Wren has her smile. Not exactly, but enough that I see it now. Enough that the resemblance catches me off guard. I clutch the ribbon tighter.
“It’s my pleasure,” I say, and I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything. “But if you don’t mind, I really need to get back to Wren. He wasn’t exactly in a good state when I brought Lord Yelling here.”
Her whole face crumples with fresh worry before she smooths it away. “Yes, of course. Send him my love. Tell him…” She presses a hand to her mouth, thinking. “Tell him his mothermisses him terribly and that if he wants to come home, he’ll always have one.”
My throat goes tight. What if he does want to come home? “I’ll tell him.”
She pats my arm like I’m already family. It’s strange, but I don’t hate it.
His Majesty steps back toward the throne. “You’re always welcome in the Winter Court, Talon. Go.”
“Thank you.” I grip the ribbon in one hand, picture Wren, and let the magic take me.
The throne room vanishes in a rush. I land back in Hex with my heart in my throat and one thought burning brighter than any other. Please let Wren be alright.
27
