“I’m afraid,” I whispered.
Once again, Annika’s mother was silent.
“She’s in danger. I keep telling myself not to worry.” I shook my head, almost laughing. “I have a scar across my chest that says she’s up for any fight. But with me . . . with me at least she knew to be on guard. What is she supposed to do when the enemy could be someone with the face of a friend?”
I was brought to a standstill for a moment. I kept thinking about someone raising a hand to her. If anyone so much as plucked a hair from her head, I’d call that justification for whatever I might do to them.
“I don’t know what to do. These people—my people—are suddenly championing me. And I think I can do this. I think I can bring us home . . . I might even be able to do it peacefully. But I don’t know how to make sure she stays safe. And if something happens to her . . .”
And then I pictured it. I could see it in my head as clearly as if I’d done it myself. Annika on the ground, pale and still. Annika with bruises on her wrists and blood across her neck. Annika without her laughter and her wit and her constant affection. So really, not Annika at all. Just all the bones we leave behind.
It was such a sharp pain that I was brought to my knees. With that image in my mind, I could barely breathe. I shook my head and dug my fingers into the dirt, trying to remind myself of what was real. I was at Vosino. I was at Queen Evelina’s grave. It wasn’t real. It hadn’t happened.
Yet.
Palmer was right. No one could keep Annika safe like I could. In her own way, she protected me, too. When we were together, it was as if we were encased in unbreakable glass, untouchable. Hadn’t the Island tried to destroy us? Hadn’t we survived all of it together in that cave?
No one—no one—could have made such a bitter situation into something sweet.
“You would be so proud of her,” I whispered. “She’s grown into someone so beautiful, probably even more beautiful than you remember her. And when she smiles, everything around her loses its color and edge. She’s compassionate, determined, intelligent, and possibly even more forgiving than you.” I smiled to myself.
“Do you know what she told me? She told me about the only boy she’s ever loved. She passed him once, riding out with you. The boy told her how beautiful she was, and she said that he could say that as much as he wanted. Did she ever tell you how she felt about him?
“Would it break your heart to know that was me?”
As I sat there on my knees, I felt a knot unraveling in my stomach. It was close to the way I felt when Annika held me in her arms in the cave. A shower of warmth and calm hemming me in from all sides. I felt . . . free.
“Or maybe it wouldn’t break your heart,” I considered, thinking of what I knew about this woman. “Maybe it would give you some sense of relief that the boy you smiled at on the road that day found his path again. Because you were never angry at me. You never wished me ill or cursed me. You forgave me. She forgave me.”
I looked down, swallowing. “She might also love me. But here’s what she doesn’t know,” I confessed with a smile. “Even if she did, she couldn’t love me half so much as I love her. I’m willing to rip the world in two for her.”
And as I said it aloud, I knew it was true. I wanted to hate myself for it, for the fact that I was willing to give up everything, a lifetime of struggle and work, to chase something I knew I couldn’t have. When I ran away from everything I had here, when I threw myself at Annika, there was no doubt in my mind that I would wind up dead.
But better me than her.
“I’ll keep her safe,” I vowed. “I can’t bring you back. But I can keep her alive. I’ll never be able to apologize to you enough. But I will be able to love her enough. It might be the last thing I do . . . but I will. I love her. Goodbye.”
I took to my feet and turned my gaze from her grave to my father’s. “Everyone says you were the best of men. So I, too, will be an honorable man. I’m sorry that I’ve failed at that so far. I hope you can forgive me. And I hope you know that I am so proud to be your son.”
I bowed my head, honoring his memory for the last time.
My thoughts went immediately to planning, but I had no time to think. I heard a twig snap. There was no chance it was Thistle, so I whipped my head back to see who’d found me.
Blythe’s accusing eyes dug into me. Her lips were trembling as she stood there, both heartbreak and rage painted across her face.
“How long have you been there?” I asked.
“Long enough,” she replied bitterly. “So this is why I’m not enough for you? Because your eyes are set on her?”
“You were never not enough, Blythe. You are still more than—”
She cut me off, coming closer. “Do you know how long I’ve thought of you?” She swallowed hard, looking away for a moment. “Almost from the day I came to Vosino. I saw you work so hard, and do so much. I saw you quietly sacrifice for others, though you would never admit to doing such a thing. But you were distant, always on the side, and I wasn’t brave enough. And then . . . we finally had a reason to talk when you got your Commission. I thought that was the beginning of everything. Are you telling me that’s how I lost you?”
I sighed, feeling worse by the second, but knowing the truth was the only way through. “Blythe, there was nothing to lose. Until recently, I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling anything that wasn’t . . . fury.”
Her expression moved from hurt to betrayed. “You said she was the embodiment of everything you hate.”
“She was . . . and then she wasn’t.”
“I’ve never left your side!” she raged. “I always believed in you and supported you. I saw the worst of you and didn’t flinch. And now, when we are on the edge of getting everything you worked for, you’re abandoning it for a girl who will destroy your life?”
I shook my head, steadying my tone. “That’s the thing, Blythe. If I stay, Kawan will keep me as his dog. And if I kill him and try to lead our people, I will have to fight my whole life to hold on to that power. I can’t. That part of me is dead, and I want to live. Even if it’s short, even if it’s painful. I want to live freely.”
She stared at me, still angry, still unbelieving.
“You’re a traitor, Lennox. Worse than a thief, worse than a coward. You’re a traitor to your people.” She went to leave, disgusted. “Because I have—” She shook her head. “Because I had such a great respect for you, I’ll give you a head start. You get six hours. And then Kawan will know. Your mother, Inigo, everyone. They’ll know you threw us off for nothing. And when we come”—she looked me dead in the eye—“you will be counted as our enemy. And allow me to remind you one last time: I. Don’t. Fail.”
She walked past me, leaving me chilled to the bone. In an instant, Blythe showed me she was as formidable as I’d always believed. And because I knew how capable she was, I ran back to my quarters, unable to waste even a second.
I surveyed everything I owned. What was worth taking? I took the oblique pens and threw them in my bag, as well as my father’s cape. I strapped my sword to my waist, and I grabbed my empty waterskin, wishing I had time to fill it. My waistbelt was full and strapped to my side. I pulled my piece of lace out, wrapping it around my wrist; no point in hiding it now. Beyond that, everything else would just have to be a memory.
I couldn’t risk being seen in the hallway; who knew who I might run into? So I slung the bag over my shoulder and escaped the same way Annika had: through the window.
