Page 15 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

Hale’s sitting on the patio alone, glass of amber liquid in front of him. I feel a long tug in my chest. I’ve missed my brother

so much. For all his flaws, he made me who I am. Every bit of courage and strength I have, I have because he instilled it

in me. Our mother would’ve coddled me until I grew soft and useless, but Hale wouldn’t have that. I used to think it was because

he wanted someone to go on his adventures with him, but I think he knew I would need to be tough, that someday I would need

the kind of strength and resilience I would never learn tied to our mother’s apron strings.

The sun has long past set, but I doubt he noticed.

The chair across from him groans against the stone as I pull it out to sit. “Figure it out yet?”

He blinks at me as if noticing for the first time that he’s not alone. “Figure what out?”

I shrug. “Everything. You look deep in thought.”

He scrapes a hand over his face. “There’s a lot to think about.” He cuts his gaze to me. “I’m sure the same is true for you.”

I huff out a humorless laugh. “My thoughts are spinning so fast I can hardly keep up with them.”

“Tell me... about where you were—where you thought you were?”

My stomach twists. “He locked me in a dream of some sort. I was living in the Eloran Palace, training to be one of the Seven.

I idolized my mother, and I...” I was in love with a man who loved me for who I am rather than who I was pretending to be. “And there was my twin too. Konner and I were close.”

“So he painted a pretty picture for you so you wouldn’t fight your way out.”

I shake my head slowly. “But it wasn’t all pretty. I was always worried that Konner was going to be hurt serving the palace.

And then the palace was under siege, and I ran to protect my mother.” I hold my brother’s gaze and remind myself he’s the

only real brother I have. The only one who counts. “You were there, and you were trying to kill her. I hated you so much in

that moment that I didn’t hesitate.” The tears I was determined to hold back spill down my cheeks.

He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “It’s okay. It wasn’t real.”

But it felt so real. “It wasn’t until I plunged the knife into your chest that any memories of this life even flickered for me.” I blow out a breath.

“I don’t understand why he would plant that. Why show me killing someone I love? Why risk my mind rejecting that moment?”

“And why show you a life full of worries? Why not just make it all good?”

“And that doesn’t even address the biggest question of all,” I say, pulling my hand out from under his and leaning back in my chair.

“Why am I still alive? Erith’s wanted me dead since before I was born, and they had me for months.

Why did they let me live and why did they plant those fake memories in my mind? ”

“The memories could be nothing more than a manipulation,” Hale offers. “By the way you describe it, it felt real to you. That

will inevitably affect the decisions you make. Maybe they need you alive for some reason but thought they could control you

through the memories.”

I nod, but I’m not convinced. Nothing makes sense to me right now.

“Lis?” When I lift my head, Hale studies me for a long time. His throat bobs before he finally speaks. “There are so many

days lately where it feels like fate is against us. But seeing you here? Knowing you haven’t been taken away? I’m hopeful

again. For the first time in a long time.”

“Do you think they’ll find Jasalyn?”

“I’ve spent months scouring this court. Not that it matters.” He sets his jaw and glares at nothing. “It’s maddening. Anyone she’s seen won’t

remember her.”

“And you’re sure she’s...” I trail off. The question is too cruel.

“She’s alive. I set wards at Feegus Keep that would alert me if she went there. They were triggered, and I went searching.

All I remember is being attacked by a pack of death dogs they had locked in the basement, and then when I woke up, I was in

the infirmary at Ironmoore, all stitched up. I could smell her. I know she’d been there.” He braces his forearms on his thighs and hangs his head. “I felt it in my gut.”

“You really have feelings for her, don’t you?”

He shakes his head before lifting it to meet my gaze. “I have feelings for a lot of people. For Jasalyn I have... I’m in

love with her, Lis. And I lost her.” His chuckles darkly and throws back the rest of his drink. “I fucking lost her and if

we don’t find her and undo what Mordeus put into motion with the blood magic, with that ring... I’ll never get her back.”

I don’t see how they’re going to do all that beyond finding the princess, but I don’t need him to explain it to me now. One problem at a time.

When he lifts his gaze to meet mine, he can’t hide his exhaustion. “I was taking notes while she was still with us—once the

ring wouldn’t come off.” He pulls a leather-bound book from inside his vest and drops it on the table. “One of the last notes

I wrote to myself the day she disappeared was that I needed to tell her the truth about who I am. She thought I was human.”

“You think she left when she found out.”

“It’s possible. I’ve been walking around thinking she hates me, but I think she’s the one who got me to the infirmary and

stitched me up after those death dogs tried to tear me apart. And if I’m right about that, maybe there’s a chance she’ll forgive

me.”

“We’ll find her.” My heart aches for my brother, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s abandoned his mission from home. I have

to ask. “And when we do, what will you do then? You’ve been chosen to protect the next Eloran queen. Will you refuse that

call to be with Jas?”

There’s nothing but torture in his ice-blue eyes.

“Crissa’s still missing too.” The Eloran queen, like all Chosen queens of the realm, is human, and her mortality makes her vulnerable.

Maybe even more vulnerable than Jas, who Mordeus needs to keep alive for the time being.

“The whole thing is a mess . There are so many people counting on me, and yet I can’t think about anything but getting Jas back. ” He stares up into the

night sky. “Tell me what you saw in her memories. What did he do to her in there?”

“Don’t do that to yourself.”

He scrapes a hand over his face. “I’ll kill him. Once we have Jasalyn back, I want to find Mordeus and end him for good. It’s

the least I can do for her.”

He’s so focused on Jasalyn, this might be the perfect time to tell him why I won’t kill Erith . The truth sits heavy in my chest. I could tell him. Maybe I should, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

Exhausted. Confused. Emotionally wrecked.

But when I close my eyes, sleep eludes me.

I would give anything for a sleeping tonic, but I can’t bring myself to leave my chambers to ask for one. I can’t stomach

the idea of running into Misha again.

I wander my room, brushing my fingertips across the cool marble of the fireplace mantel and opening the drawers in the desk

one by one. I’m not sure if I’m hoping to find the herbs I know would help me sleep or if I’m looking for a distraction, but

when I see the contents of the bottom drawer, my chest feels too tight.

My nose tingles with the threat of tears as I pull the playing cards from the drawer.

I miss Nigel so much. When I felt lonely as a child, he was always there. Even when he wasn’t, knowing he’d come at a moment’s notice always gave me comfort.

I pluck a thread on my goblin bracelet just to remember what it feels like, then press the cards to my chest as if they might

bring back my friend.

“I was beginning to think you’d never call,” someone says behind me.

I spin around and squeak when I see a spindly-limbed goblin sitting on the foot of my bed.

He looks me over, assessing. “You are quite conscious. Finally.”

“Who are you?”

“Squird Anglos the Third, at your service.” He hops off the bed and bows from the waist. “But you can call me Squird. Nigel

told me the rhyming bits become tiresome otherwise.”

Joy rises into my chest and a bubble of laughter slips from my lips. I can imagine Nigel saying just that. “It’s nice to meet

you, Squird.”

“Nigel asked me to look after you if anything ever happened to him. I would’ve introduced myself sooner, but I couldn’t come

until you called. What can I do for you this fine evening?” He frowns out the window. “Rather, this night when you should

most definitely be sleeping.”

I clutch the cards harder to my chest. Nigel assigned another goblin to look after me once he was gone. Of course he did.

“I don’t know how to play,” he says, nodding to the cards in my hands, “but I’ll learn if you’d like.”

I smile. It’s hard to tell a goblin’s age by their appearance—they all seem to have the same sparse, thin hair and plump belly—but I can tell Squird is young. He hasn’t become as tight-lipped as his brethren. I set the cards on the desk. “Maybe another time.”

“Do you need to go anywhere?” He bounces on his toes, eagerness making his eyes shine.

I bite my bottom lip. I don’t want to take advantage if he’s too young to know better, but... “I had a question.”

He waits for a beat, then looks around the room. “And you lost it? Or do you expect me to guess? Perhaps Nigel never told

you that goblins don’t read minds.” His eyes widen. “Or maybe he did? He is one of the smartest goblins I’ve ever met. I bet

he knew all your questions before you spoke them aloud.”

I stifle a laugh, bowing my head to hide the smile I can’t keep from my face. “I’m just trying to figure out the best way

to ask.” Goblins can be so literal, and I’m guessing Squird might be worse than most. “Why didn’t Erith have me killed when

I was captured?”

Squird wrinkles his nose like this is a foolish question. “Because he didn’t know where you were.”

“You mean to say Erith wasn’t the one who captured me?”

“Erith would never get so close to one fated to end him.”

“I thought Konner—or whoever took me from Misha’s dungeons—did so on behalf of Erith. But perhaps they were working for someone

else instead.” Konner would be devoted to the Seven, having grown up in the palace. It doesn’t make sense that he wouldn’t

have wanted Erith to have access to me, and yet I think he was trying to tell me that he wanted me alive.

“No one in that palace works for anyone but themselves,” Squird says.

“What about the dreams Konner planted in my mind? If he wasn’t working with Erith—or perhaps is even working against Erith—why not use those dreams to make me hate my father? To make me act on my supposed fate when I woke? And if it wasn’t

that, then why keep me asleep at all?” I’ve been thinking out loud again, and I realize my mistake when I lift my head and

see Squird’s big, panicked eyes. “Sorry,” I mumble.

He looks around, as if he realizes he’s already said too much and wants to make sure no one witnessed his blunder. “I should

go.”

“No, don’t. I—” But he’s already gone.