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I push out of the house, tearing at the collar of my kaftan and gulping for air. Someone chases after me, but I dash down the alley. I don’t make it far before I’m yanked back into the shadows.

Just in time.

Through the slits in an old door, I see a patrol come into the street. The soldiers’ armor is polished to a glint. Their hands are on their weapons. Their eyes dart over every crack and fissure that might hide a threat.

Guards from the palace.

Foolish of me to think Rev would come alone. Foolish to think no one would realize he’s missing.

But for now, I’m safe where I stand in abandoned house filled with debris and broken furniture. A lonely chair has survived whatever has ravaged through what once was a home. Valdus hunches his shoulders and looks at me with anger still a raging storm in his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you shouldn’t,” he interrupts me. “Now that you’ve done it anyway, tell me what he said.”

“He’s here to find me and take me back to my father. Or worse. To the Governor of The Sour Peaks.” I rub my brow. “Please.” I whisper as the first tears spill down my cheeks. “Please, don’t let them take me.”

“Neylan…”

“No. You don’t understand. You don’t know what happened. I’m betrothed to the Governor of The Sour Peaks, and he…he…I’m not going back to him.”

I can’t stop the tears any longer, and new ones form as I wipe them away. Valdus doesn’t utter a single word as my sobs fill the abandoned house. He reaches for me, but his fingers curl over thin air, and his hand drops uselessly at his side. I turn away, wiling my sobs to quieten, my tears to stop.

When I finally calm myself, I look at anything but at Valdus. He’s trying to catch my gaze, but I pretend to find the stone under my feet much more fascinating and continue staring at it.

Valdus raises my chin, his metal fingers, an icy touch on my face. No anger lingers in his features. When he speaks, his voice is a deep rumble. “I’m not letting anyone take you.” I want to turn away, to not let those words give me too much hope, but Valdus holds my chin tight. “I’ve already promised this once, but this time I’ll say this to you,” he adds. “No harm will come to you.”

“And who are you to be able to promise such things?”

He doesn’t answer right away as if measuring me up for the truth he’s about to unveil, and when he finally speaks, his words echo through the empty space. “A man even your father fears.”

20

Steam wafts from a pot set over a fire on the stove. It rolls over my skin with a spicy smell of thyme and cumin.

“How is it going over there?” Inara asks from the table where she’s pouring buckwheat into a glass with a faded gold rim.

I shrug. Dread is lurking at the bottom of my stomach. It has been there ever since Valdus took me back home without uttering another word, even if his answers in the abandoned house had only spurred more questions to run rampant through my mind. Sometimes I can still feel his icy touch on my skin, but I shrug it away. I told Rev the truth. No matter what Valdus and Inara have done for me, I’m not sure how much I can trust them. Not with my secrets.

Not when I’ve spent almost a week binding ethera. I’m even more cautious now that the sprout has unfurled its first leaves of deep green.

I’ve grown better at channeling my energy. It’s no longer a drop at a time, but a steady trickle, and yet it still sets me up for a crashing migraine by the end of the day. Inara, sensing my terrible mood, has tried to find me distractions to keep me busy in the house. Sewing had been a disaster with pricked fingers and blooded fabric, but cooking drew me in despite a few burned dishes. A few hours of work shouldn’t be enough of a trade for a delicious meal shared in a pleasant company, but it is, even if it’s only Inara who savors my experiments.

I put the spoon down, no longer being able to hold the question in. “Can I ask you something?”

Inara crosses the kitchen and pours buckwheat into the boiling water and waits for me to talk.

The question burns on the tip of my tongue, begging to be set free. Yet I don’t dare.

“Could we go to the prayer house?” I ask instead.

“We’ll see if Valdus is around after dinner.”

“You know he won’t be,” I say much more sharply than what I’ve intended.

I don’t know if he has been working extra shifts again, if he was called on a mission by the rebellion, or if he has been simply avoiding me, but I haven’t seen him since the day I broke down as the foolish princess he must think I am.

Inara snorts, knowing full well that I’m right. “Fine. If he isn’t back before the sun goes down, we’ll go.”