Page 65 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

“He smiles more when you’re around,” she says quietly. “I’ve noticed. It’s different from his usual smile. It’s brighter and… true. Whatever you’re doing, it’s good for him. Thank you for that.”

The statement catches me completely off guard. I don’t deserve her gratitude. All I’ve done is follow Garrett around.

Lady Clayborne seems to realize she’s made me uncomfortable. She steps back, smoothing her gown.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to intrude on your evening.” She gestures to the table. “Please, eat before it gets cold. And if you need anything at all during your stay, just ask.”

She moves toward the door. The handmaidens part to let her through.

“Lady Clayborne,” I call after her. “Thank you.”

She smiles again, warmer this time and leaves with her handmaidens trailing behind.

The door clicks shut. I’m alone with enough food for three people and her words lingering in my head.

I cross to the table. The lamb is perfectly cooked, the meat falling off the bone at the slightest touch. I take a bite. It’s delicious, seasoned with care and skill.

This is made with love.

Something twists in my chest.

Garrett has this. A mother who worries about him, who brings him his favorite meals, who notices when he smiles more. A family that loves him even if they don’t understand all of him.

I never had that. My mother died when I was too young to remember her face. My grandfather tried, but the pack was always struggling and always fighting. There was no time for favorite meals or noticing smiles.

The guild certainly never cared.

Shade, Kitty, and Shepherd are my only family now.

A faint smile crosses my face at the thought of them. We keep each other alive and we survive together. But the jealousy remains. I eat slowly, the food turning bitter. Not because it tastes bad, but because of what it represents. Everything Garrett has that I never will.

Does he even realize how lucky he is? The thought makes me angry and sad at the same time.

I finish eating because wasting the food would be an insult to the care that went into it. But every bite reminds me of the distance between Garrett’s world and mine. When the plate is empty, I push it away and return to the bed. The ceiling patterns blur as I stare at them.

Garrett has everything. Family, position, and purpose.

And somehow, he still throws himself into danger like he has nothing to lose. What the fuck is he even doing right now?

Fuck propriety. Fuck boundaries. I need to know he’s safe.

I slip away from the path to Elvarstyne and make my way back through the palace. Evening is settling over the complex, that liminal time when the day staff has left but the night staff hasn’t fully taken over. The halls are emptier than usual with guards changing shifts and servants finishing their duties. It’s easier to move unseen.

I check Garrett’s quarters first, taking the familiar route to his wing of the palace.

I knock quietly at his door. Then less quietly.

No answer.

I try the handle. Locked.

Either he’s not there, or he’s refusing to answer. I stand in the hallway for a long moment, debating. I could pick the lock. It would be easy, my training covered far more complex mechanisms than this. But if he is inside and simply doesn’t want to see me, that would be crossing a line I’m not sure I can uncross.

Our relationship, whatever it is, is built on trust. Breaking into his rooms would shatter that.

But the alternative is walking away while he’s clearly suffering.

I make my decision and pull out the thin piece of wire I keep hidden in my boot. The lock yields in seconds. I slip inside quickly, closing the door behind me.