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LYSANDER

I ’ve been running on fear since we left our home burning behind us and escaped into the night, and now I’m empty.

It’s not the worst possible thing that could’ve happened. It’s not. Ezra’s alive, just… out of reach. What hurts the most, what deflates me like a spear to the lung, is that for a short time I believed things could be different. My life changed because of him. I changed.

The first few days I do little else besides sit in the big, soft chair in Syril’s upstairs study and stare out the window.

Watchers from the Protection Agency stand guard day and night around The Sanctum, their special amulets hiding them from human eyes.

The Sanctum is under Syril’s protection, so the Watchers are stationed to keep me in, not to keep the azeroths out.

Nothing’s stopping me from going downstairs, but I can’t bear the thought of the pitying looks I’ll get. Besides, Ezra won’t be there. He lost his job and his place in this world because of me. I’ve never been more convinced of my unworthiness. Maybe Ezra will be better off without me in the end.

It’s almost dark when I finally uncurl and sit up, letting my cramped wings stretch. The Watcher below turns, as if sensing I’ve moved. Flaming eyes flicker in the dusk. I turn away from the window, rubbing my hollow chest.

Orion knocks at the door and sets a plate and a drink on the desk.

“You alright?” he asks. “Plato says you’ve done this for three days in a row. I thought he was exaggerating.”

“I’m fine.” I take the plate back to the chair. I lift the fork to my lips, but I barely taste the food.

Orion goes to the window. “They’re really taking it seriously. Uncle Hellebore is such a hard-ass. He turns his nose up at socializing with other kingdoms, but he’ll gladly police ‘em.”

“ Uncle ?” I frown.

He shrugs. “I’ve got a dozen cousins, so trust me, being related to the king isn’t a big deal.

Anyway, that’s not what I came up here to talk about.

Bear’s holding a private rope class in the club before opening hours.

You should give it a go. He wants to see you.

If you ask me, he’s worried, not that he’d ever admit it. ”

I wince. If Bear is asking to see me, my situation must sound especially pitiful. “It won’t change anything.”

“No.” Orion glances out the window again. “But you don’t have to be a princess stuck in a tower, you know? The rest of us are still here.”

The not-so-subtle reproach makes me flinch again. Orion’s right — the staff are my friends now. Just because Ezra brought light and color and life into my existence…

Orion groans. “I don’t mean it like that. Stop looking like I’ve gone and locked your boyfriend away with my own hands. What I’m trying to say is, we’re here for you. Everyone wants to help. Even Bear. So if I were you, I’d take him up on it.”

When Orion is gone, I force myself to eat the rest of my food.

For the first time, I look around at the study and actually see the cozy, welcoming space.

Syril suggested I use it, but I barely heard them — it wasn’t until I peeled myself out of bed that I remembered them saying they’d leave the door unlocked.

When I first arrived at The Sanctum, it was the same. Syril gave me everything I have now. A safe place to stay, things to replace what I’d lost, projects to keep me busy. Even the show with Bear was their way of helping.

I peruse the shelves, suddenly curious. I’ve never seen books like this, with colorful paper bindings and whimsical lettering.

In the safe houses we only ever had a mish-mash of books left behind by the previous owner.

In my world, books are somber, leatherbound, and factual — even the ones I’ve borrowed from Syril in the past are very matter-of-fact.

Treatises about plants I’ll never grow, or the best way to prepare quail.

I pick one of the books up. It’s light, and a page falls out as I flip through. The words leap out at me when I snatch it from the floor.

…Duke Wellesly’s finger brushed the back of her hand and her heart fluttered like a moth drawn recklessly to his rakish flame…

I flip back to the cover, where two humans embrace inside a border of roses.

Hmm.

Why not?

I take the book back to my room, and when I shut the door, I notice the little black rabbit on my nightstand.

Ezzy.

I pick the soft toy up and stroke its worn face. I’m sure Ezra would tell me to go to Bear’s class, if he were here.

“What should I do, Ezzy?” I murmur. But Ezzy only stares back at me silently.

I can’t remember the last time I slept in the hammock, but tonight I climb inside, tucking Ezra’s plush toy against my chest. My nightmares have come back with a vengeance, but it’s the loneliness that aches the most. Ezzy smells like him, warm, sweet, and comforting, and I breathe it in deeply.

At the front of the room, Bear deftly wraps the fake leg in a demonstrative tie, weaving the rope into a perfectly symmetric pattern.

I follow along clumsily. As usual I’m out of place as the only fairy, and a highly recognizable one, but at the back of the room no one bothers me.

I touch the soft lump in my shirt for comfort.

Like his namesake, Ezzy doesn’t care about any of that stuff.

“Your knots are uneven.” Bear’s gruff voice comes from above. I look up, and he crouches next to me. “Pull the rope snug and work quickly. If you practice until you can do it from memory, it becomes easier to even the knots.”

I hold back a sigh. “It’s harder than it looks.”

“For a beginner, yes.” Bear’s nostrils flare. “You know, there’s no reason we couldn’t re-open the suspension show.”

My fingers still. “What do you mean?”

“Your magical potency calmed down after the King’s Oath.” He shrugs. “Figured you knew. Then you never asked to keep going, so I figured you didn’t want to.”

I hesitate. Did I know?

I at least suspected. But I didn’t reach out to Bear because deep down, I thought it might be different now. That it wouldn’t work for me like it used to.

“It’s kind of you to offer,” I murmur.

“It’s up to you.” Bear picks up the rope and lashes the next diamond around my leg without touching my skin once, as always, perfectly in control and unafraid.

He ties it off and hands the ends back to me.

“It’s a quick-release knot so you can practice pulling one open.

But remember, the quickest release is a blade. ”

I nod.

Bear’s gaze meets mine. “You know, Cassandra may have sheltered you, but I would’ve thought she’d teach you more about love.”

“What do you mean?”

“The myth that fairies don’t know how to love is earned, don’t get me wrong.

If the fairy king hadn’t spurned his human lover and pretended their trysts meant nothing, maybe there would be no azeroths.

” His eyes flare. “But Cassandra was different. She dared to love the king’s son, and for that, her story was written in history. ”

“Then she lost my father,” I murmur. My mother had loved me in her own way, but not the way I needed.

“But she still had you. And Elsabeth.” His gaze burns. “Fairies are capable of great love when they choose to be. Your sister loves you and will do anything to protect you. Don’t doubt her — or yourself.”