Page 168 of Blackheart

“I’ll meet you there, make sure there’s no trouble with Jaime at the very least,” Ansel said quietly. “I don’t need to be shadowed.”

Riven held me closer. “I will not leave her again.”

Beck nodded, glancing at Amzee for a brief moment and back to me in Riven’s arms. “Then I’ll need you to run, Sir.”

Riven readjusted me. “I’ve been waiting to use my legs all day. Let’s go.”

Just as Ansel had promised, Jaime welcomed us into his home and worked quickly while Riven watched for threats.

The healing felt strange, the magic swirling around my abdomen and legs like warm liquid being poured over me.

Lord Jaime’s blond hair was combed back, curling just slightly behind his ears. He was already dressed in his Witchlord’s cloak and armor, ready for battle. As quiet as he might’ve been, he was polite and concise when he needed to speak.

I didn’t mind the silence as I lay on the hardwood floor, a couch pillow resting under my head as I stared at the high ceiling.

I’d told Beck about where I’d stashed the weapons, and requested he return my orb. He promised to distributeeverything swiftly, and he must have, by the rate at which he returned to Keeper’s Street, orb in hand.

With Riven by my side and the orb healthily glowing, I sighed in relief.

“I’ve done what I can,” Jaime said, offering me a hand.

My long, ragged shirt braced against my knees as he pulled me to my feet. There was no blood trailing down my legs, and no soreness in my abdomen or back.

“Will I be able to have children?” I asked frankly. I didn’t need my feelings spared. I needed the truth.

He picked the pillow up from the floor, tossing it over to the couch. “I don’t know, but if you do, consider Jaime for a name,” he joked, refusing to meet my eye. Swallowing my tears, fire crept up my chest. There was no time for weeping, only requital.

“The sun will rise within the hour. We’ll need to take you to a ship first,” Riven said delicately.

I shook my head. “No. I will go last, or not at all.”

His hard eyes softened, but he nodded at the order and handed me a fresh set of clothes.

Amzee and Beck shadowed back in through the door, Amzee’s hair now braided back with a red ribbon running through it.

She brushed herself off, eyes bright at the sight of me standing.

“I found a purple ribbon for your braid!” she chimed, holding it up and shaking it around like a worm, holding out her own braid with the opposite hand as an example.

I crossed the room to hug her.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I said. “Though, I never doubted you.”

She squeezed me tight. “I’m gladyou’reokay. Now, please hurry and wash up before I have no time to braid your hair. I had to arm wrestle three men to win this ribbon!” she exclaimed,wiggling it around again. Even the darkness of the Waywards couldn't dim Amzee’s fire.

Mine had only just ignited.

The queen would be wise to remember that even the smallest fires burn like hell.

Chapter 47

Terrifying, Beautiful, Dangerous

“Pray for your queen. She weeps for her late husband, while his kin turn their grief to sin.”

—Kolson Strange, Minister of Spirit

Door to doorand window to window, Amzee’s rebels snuck along the alleyways, clinging to the shadows, slipping notes into homes. They’d spent all week prepping the messages, waiting until the very last moment to distribute them to ensure a traitor wouldn’t ruin it all.