“Connor,” I said, “you can trust Captain Rayner. He’s a friend.”
After James and Connor left, I paced the room for a few minutes, trying not to check Tobiah for signs of life. Finally, I sat at his writing desk and dug through his pens and ink and paper. I settled on a stiff nib, heavy blue ink, and plain palace stationery.
Tobiah,
Thank you for the letter you so quickly left in my room. In response to your request for forgiveness: there’s nothing to forgive.
We had masks and secret lives, and it was so easy to forget our obligations while we both wore black and met in the dark. Wherever our futures are, you’ve helped shape mine for the better.
With gratitude,
Wil
Postscript: What do you think about this handwriting? I found it on a man in Thornton who was copying valuable books and selling them as though they were originals. You might want to have someone look into that, if he lived through the Inundation.
Quick and light. That was all I could manage with him barely breathing mere feet away.
The boy I loved existed beyond his black mask, a fact I hadn’t fully reconciled. But no matter my muddled feelings, he was meant for someone else. She didn’t love the part of him that was Black Knife—she didn’t know—but she cared for the prince; he’d been warm toward her.
I wanted Black Knife. She wanted Tobiah.
He’d decided who he needed to be.
While the letter dried, I cleaned the pen and organized his jars of ink by color and shade. James returned just as I folded the letter and tucked it under the golden spyglass on the bookcase. “They’re settled in?” I asked.
“Yes. They ate everything in sight and had the silverware in their pockets before anyone noticed. You’re sure this is a wise idea? I will have to answer to the queen regent about their presence.”
“They’re all that’s left of Aecorian high nobility.” We both glanced at Tobiah, still pale, but his breath was more even and deep, as though he slept easier. “They’ve fought all their lives to reclaim Aecor and this”—I gestured around the room—“sort of world that was taken from them. There’s bound to be an adjustment period. They will learn.”
“I’m assigning guards on them at all times.”
“That’s probably not a bad idea.”
“You didn’t tell me you gave Ferris the location of Patrick Lien and the others.”
In my haste to get Connor to Tobiah, I’d forgotten to bring it up. “Was he arrested?”
James shook his head. “Fisher’s Mouth was empty. If he was there, he left no trace. Where’d you get your information?”
“Same place I got my knife.” I touched the handle. Had Melanie told Patrick we’d spoken? Or had he left Fisher’s Mouth so quickly because he was paranoid? I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment while James described how many soldiers and police officers had been pulled from other duties to chase this lead, probably giving Patrick and his half of the Ospreys space to slip out of the city.
“You should go to bed.” James motioned toward the door. “You look exhausted.”
And I was exhausted, but I wasn’t leaving. I marched across the room and took the chair near Tobiah’s bed. I’d tried to make two things right tonight, and already failed at one. If I’d gone after Patrick myself . . . but I’d made a choice.
I had to see it through.
FIVE
“WAKE UP, NAMELESS girl.”
Dawn seeped around the curtains, lighting the dark room into gray. Candles had drowned their flames or been put out—I couldn’t remember—and the smothering air of encroaching death had lifted.
Tobiah was still lying on his back, but he’d turned his head and hints of color lit his skin. When our eyes met, his were bright and alert, and so, so familiar.
I sat straight, heart pounding with hope. “You’re alive.”
“My dear Wilhelmina, you’re amazingly accomplished at stating the obvious.” His voice was groggy, deep with the remnants of his long slumber.
“And you’re well enough for sarcasm. I think you’ll live.”
His grin was all Black Knife. Because of the mask, it was an expression I’d only sensed before, never seen, but I knew it just the same: the lift of his cheeks, the light in his eyes, and the way the world seemed to pause.
This was the boy I’d fallen in love with.
Please forgive me for what I’m about to do; know that it is duty and honor that compel me to act against my true feelings.
Forgive me.
I took a ragged breath. “I should send for your mother. She has no idea you’re—” Alive. Awake. He’d been so close to death just hours before.
“In a few minutes.” He closed his eyes. “Just give me a few minutes before I have to be . . . what they all need me to be.” He went still, as though he’d drifted off again, but then he smiled. “You’re the one with the no-talking-or-get-stabbed rule. Not me.”