Page 48

The emotion in James’s eyes started to dull. He blinked rapidly as the effects of the ward of diversion faded.

“Wh”—He coughed—“What happened?”

“Welcome back,” Grace whispered.

It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t heard other voices in some time. She listened intently. Nothing. How long had it been? The ward of diversion might have sent them all stumbling off to wherever they most wanted to be. Should she check?

“Grace?” The Rogue reached out, waving his hand in front of him like he wasn’t sure she was real. The side of his hand bumped into her cheek.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, retracting his hand with speed.

She laughed, her cheek tingling from his touch, suddenly very aware that she was still pressed into his side.

It was more difficult than she’d expected to back away from the Rogue, but she forced herself to stand. The verdure cloak slithered off her shoulders, falling to take her place.

Grace wondered if the Rogue felt the cold absence of her like she felt the loss of him.

“You… uh, you got a bit confused… must have been overexertion from that run,” Grace said, her cheeks stinging with the chill of night air against her burning skin.

“The run…” He still wasn’t fully aware yet.

Grace saw the moment the fog lifted fully. His eyes widened and he stood, flicking his head left and right, searching the trees.

“We lost them,” Grace whispered.

The Rogue looked at her. “You’re sure?”

Grace shook her head. “Can’t be sure, but”—she pointed to her ears—“I listen, remember?”

Her words didn’t calm him. He returned to scanning the trees, but finally, his shoulders drooped in tired relief. “Thank you,” he said.

Grace shook her head. “What were you thinking, showing up at the harvest celebration?”

He seemed to straighten. “I was keeping my people safe.”

“Safe?” She gestured behind her. “You call this safe? Patrols in the forest, the mayor in a rage? We are not safe.Youare not safe.” There was a hitch in her voice.

What was wrong with her? She was mad at him, she shouldn’t be getting teary. But she’d been so scared.

“But I am, thanks to you.”

“For now,” Grace said.

“Now is enough. It means I can go on to do more.”

Grace groaned. “More? You’re still going to do this?”

“I told you. Fidara needs help, and I can’t sit around waiting anymore. I don’t understand why you can.”

Grace’s hands clenched in fists. “You know nothing about what I do. I care about this town more than you know.”

He shook his hooded head slowly. “I don’t doubt you care, Grace, but you have the potential to be… to be this.” He gestured to himself.

He’d said it. He’d actually said it. She could be the Rogue, could live her dreams. But today, it didn’t feel like a temptation—it felt like a slap.

She’d explained to him why he couldn’t be the Rogue. He’d now seen it with his own eyes, felt the terror of escaping the danger he’d created.

And still, he criticized her for not doing the same thing.