But they would have gone to Aenir, not Muirashi. Not Tsuyan.
“Paragon Ishii . . .” I said.
"Is dead," Reese finished. He grabbed my wrist. "We can't stay here."
No, we most certainly couldn't. The Solhearts had laid claim to this place. I followed my Paragon, painfully aware of the heat on my wrist where his fingers wrapped around me.
Liam kept close to my side. "I'm fine, by the way. Since you didn't caressmycheek."
I turned scarlet and glared at my brother. He smiled sweetly in return.
Thankfully, Reese didn't seem to hear him. The Paragon was a man possessed, eyes darting about, searching for threats both present and past.
The hostile tension between Reese and Quinn could have sliced a man in half.
Cold air blew over my face as we stepped out onto the porch. Pulling from Reese's grip, I searched the area, but didn't find what I sought.
Reese stepped in front of me. "What's wrong?"
Saints, I was a disaster—a fraud.
Not two hours ago, I'd resolved to protect my prince, and already, I'd failed.
"Ferris.” I met Reese's eye. "Where is he?"
Chapter 25
Diar
War could be waiting outside our walls, and I was locked inside my room. That sketchy Solheart had let me touch Siotha and promptly dragged me back to my room. My prison.
I needed to know what was happening outside. Folding my arms, I paced from one bedpost to the other.
Siotha had not chosen me. It couldn’t have. That Solheart—Quinn, Glenn, whatever his name was—was merely playing some twisted game with me.
My fingers twitched, longing to grasp the bow. My heart yearned to return to it.
Shaking the foolish notions off, I tried my doorknob, but it was locked.
The moment I pulled my hand away, someone on the other side fitted a key into the lock and clicked it open. A gentle knock followed.
My mother pushed the door open enough to peer inside. She looked frazzled. Her normally neat bun fell in loose strands around her deep blue eyes. Dark lines ran beneath her lids.
“Your father intends to speak with you tonight,” Mother said.
“You mean kill me?” I said.
She gripped my door frame. “What were you thinking? I did not raise my daughter to frolic the streets alone like a whore seeking work.”
I reeled back from her as though struck. As a younger girl, I'd imagined my mother to be sympathetic. To yearn for freedom, herself.
She did not.
Mother glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t contest anything your father says. Keep your head lowered. Behave. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” I said tightly.
Never in my life had I bowed my head to my father. Akemi had spent fifteen years covering for me and convincing Father to go easy on me. In Father’s eyes, his son and heir could do no wrong. So he listened.
