"If it works, this won't be as hard as anyone thinks."
I looked at her horse again, and then with a thud against my chest, I understood. I released her and backed away. "You're returning to the Dallisors? Tell me you're not!"
"Tenger was right! That's the only way to get close to Endrick."
"The last time you were close to him, he nearly killed you with a simple touch of his hand. And he inserted a tracker into your neck!"
"But I know about that ... now."
"He has other powers. Powers you can't protect yourself from because you don't know what they are!"
"And he doesn't know who I am. I can still get close to him."
"And then what? That dagger will not protect you."
"No, but my wits can. The last they saw of me was when you led me out of the dungeons with a knife at my neck. I'll tell them you took me to the rebel camp."
"A camp where you attacked their soldiers."
"None of whom lived to report what I did. They don't know I have the Blade, or that I've been here. I'll be admitted back to Woodcourt again."
I huffed, feeling angrier than before. "Where you'll immediately be married off to that twit, Sir Basil!"
"I won't! I'm going to defy Henry Dallisor: disobey his command to marry, and refuse to speak to anyone about it ... except Lord Endrick himself."
I shook my head, wishing it were enough to make her understand how much she was risking. "No, Kes, don't do it this way. Even if you succeed, how would you escape Woodcourt again, all alone this time?"
"I've been alone there for my whole life. At least I know the truth now, which will help me get through this. And--"
"And if something goes wrong, I'll have no way of saving you." I lowered my voice, hoping she would hear the worry in it and at least pay attention to that. "I won't even know it's gone wrong until it's too late."
She closed the remaining gap between us. It wouldn't work. I wouldn't be distracted. "Then I'll have to make sure nothing goes wrong." Her fingers pushed through my hair and remained there, drawing me nearer to her.
I was suddenly very much distracted. My eyes flitted down to her smiling mouth, and there was practically no air between us. "Please don't go. Not alone."
"Find me when this is over," she whispered. "Promise that you will find me."
I leaned in and kissed her, letting the press of my hands on her back, the beat of my heart against hers, speak the words I lacked the courage to say. The second touch of our lips was deeper, so that I almost believed our souls had connected. Her kiss emptied me of all thoughts but a wish for the world around us to stop turning, for a miracle to let this moment last forever. Or even for a single minute. Couldn't I have just one more minute with her in my arms? Because she was already fading away, and I couldn't hold her tight enough to change the inevitable.
Our final kiss ended too soon. Like a song cut off mid-note, a breath drawn in but not released. It was a start without a finish, but I would finish it ... soon.
We parted with reluctance, and I whispered, "Come back soon. I am a protector with no one to protect."
"I'm going to save Antora," she said. "And then you will rule it."
"Only if you are at my side." I handed her the horse's reins. "I will see you again soon." And think of her unceasingly until then.
She climbed into Shadow's saddle, patted his neck, and said, "I will return, Simon."
Kestra rode away so suddenly that she couldn't have heard my final words. "No, my lady. I will follow."
Turn the page for a sneak peek!
Barely daring to breathe, I crept forward, hoping Lord Endrick wouldn't be aware of my presence until I was closer. He had summoned me here, so there was no chance of surprising him, but I didn't need him watching my every move as I trekked across the great hall toward the Scarlet Throne.
The throne itself was a grand display of rubies and garnets, and had been occupied for the past thousand years by whichever Antoran family was currently in power. But never by an outsider. Never by anyone as evil as Lord Endrick.
Lord Endrick was a head taller than the average Antoran and thick in his build. Today he wore the black Dominion officer uniform, highly decorated with medals he had never earned, and with green accents signifying his rank as King, a position he had seized from the Dallisor family. In public, he wore a mask to disguise his true nature, but he rarely wore it in his palace. I hated having to look upon him. Every murder he had committed against his own people had grayed his flesh and deepened the lines of his skin until he now resembled a monster more than a person.