I breathed in deeply, relishing the way the cold air stung my throat and lungs, as snowflakes melted on my cheeks.
“I can’t leave him there for very long,” I said thickly.
“She won’t kill him,” Konstantin assured me, and with a gloved hand he gingerly wiped away the melting snowflakes from my face. “Not yet. She’ll want to find out everything she can from him, and then she wants us to fall into a trap trying to rescue him. Ridley is strong and smart, and he’s still alive. I promise you that.”
I lowered my eyes. “He came back for me. It’s all my fault.”
“It is not your fault,” Konstantin growled in anger, startling me into looking up at him. “Ridley chose to go back, and he wasn’t paying attention in that alley either. You can’t always take the blame for everything, Bryn. Sometimes bad things happen for no reason and sometimes they happen because other people fucked up. It’s not always on you.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“No, it’s okay. I think I needed to hear it.” I brushed my hair back from my face. “So what do we do now?”
“You should go get your parents settled in. The snow will have us hunkered down for a while.” He squinted into the oncoming storm. “Things are only going to get worse before they get better.”
I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the storm or the war, but it was true either way.
SIXTY-FIVE
disturbance
The tent was sagging low on me again, and I knew I would have to go out and scrape off the snow soon before it collapsed on me entirely. The batteries were going out in the little electric lamp, making it flicker dimly, but I tried to ignore that.
I lay on my back with one arm underneath my head, buried under my sleeping bag, with Ember’s letters spread out around me. The snow hadn’t let up yet, so the rest of the camp had gone to bed.
Everyone else around me was probably sleeping, but every time I tried to close my eyes, all I could think about was how last night Ridley and I slept curled up against each other, and tonight he was being held in Mina’s torture chamber. The very last place on earth he wanted to be.
So I lay awake, reading through Ember’s letters over and over again. It was my fifth time through reading her final letter, and it still made my stomach twist in knots. To read about how Doldastam had slowly collapsed, becoming a twisted dictatorship under the harsh rule of a paranoid madwoman.
It also made me realize how much I’d missed out on in Ember’s life, and Tilda’s, my parents’, and Ridley’s. So much had befallen them, and I hadn’t been able to help them with any of it.
I also missed Ember terribly. She had been shouldering such a huge burden these past few weeks, with Tilda reeling from Kasper’s death, and Ridley dealing with the trauma of Mina’s torture. Not to mention that Ember had taken time out to check on my parents when nobody else would. And all the other trackers and royals she was trying to train so they could protect themselves.
I wished I’d been able to talk to her more, and I couldn’t wait for the day when this was all over so I could thank her for everything she’d done and tell her how proud of her I was.
Putting her letter down, I let myself indulge in a fantasy for a moment. One where there would be peace again, and Tilda, Ember, and I could go out together for a few glasses of wine the way we had before. And when I’d finished, I could go home and curl up with Ridley. Even though it hurt to think of Ridley, I couldn’t help myself. I closed my eyes, remembering the feel of his skin against mine and the safety of his arms.
But it hurt too much, so I moved the thoughts along, trying to think of all the other things I would do when this was over. Like taking Bloom for a very long ride. And having dinner with my parents and asking my mom to make her gooseberry pie for me. And Konstantin would—
The thought of Konstantin jarred me out of the daydream. We had grown close, and he’d definitely become someone I could rely on. When this was all over, I did want him to be a part of my life still, but I realized painfully that I had no idea where he would fit in it.
A scuffle outside brought me from my thoughts, and I grabbed the dagger from where it sat beside me. I opened the flap, pushing back the foot of snow that had built up around the tent since the last time I’d cleared it away.
Next to the King’s tent a campfire burned, and it cast enough light that I could see two guards dragging someone toward the large tent.
“Let me go,” a woman insisted. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
The guards didn’t listen, so she broke free. With a few well-placed punches, she had knocked them both to the ground, and the ease of her fighting immediately made me think Omte.