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“You’re all right?” she says softly into my hair, and I nod.
“Just tired,” I mumble.
“Nothing else for the rest of the day,” she says firmly as she rubs my back. At first I relax at her touch, but when she gets a little too close to my shoulder, I wince.
“Are you injured?” says Jenkins, and the alarm in his voice must alert my mother, because she immediately lets me go. I shake my head.
“I fell, but I’m fine. I don’t know why Tibby makes me wear heels,” I say, trying to play it off as a joke, but I can’t dredge up any humor right now. “The crowd swarmed Maisie. I don’t know if they hurt her.”
“Dr. Gupta is already waiting,” says Alexander, still holding my quaking sister. “Come—let’s get you both inside.”
My exam is mercifully quick, with the doctor prescribing me nothing more than rest and another round of anti-inflammatories. But Maisie’s arms are red and already starting to bruise, and she seems startled when the nurse notices her left wrist is swollen.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she says, dazed, but when she tries to bend it, she whimpers.
“An X-ray, I think,” says Dr. Gupta. And as Maisie dissolves into tears once again, guilt gnaws at me until I can’t stand to be here anymore.
While everyone’s busy tending to my sister, I slip out of the room and into the corridor, grateful for the cooler air. For a moment, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to push the sounds of Maisie’s sobs out of my head, but a familiar voice echoes down the hall.
“Ev?”
When I look up, Kit is hurrying toward me, and his arms are around me before I know what’s happening. He’s gentle with me—he’s always gentle with me—but I still wince into his shirt as he accidentally jostles my shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he says thickly, and with a start, I realize he’s been crying.
“I’m okay,” I say. I can feel his pulse hammering through his sweater. “It was just—scary, that’s all. One of the barriers broke, and I thought…”
I trail off. After everything Kit and I’ve been through together, I can’t bring myself to tell him about the gun I thought I saw, or to admit that this was entirely my fault, no matter what Jenkins says. Kit’s already terrified, and I can only imagine the scenarios that have been running through his mind since he heard. There’s nothing he can do to fix this for me, and in turn, I don’t want to make it any worse for him.
And so, even though I hate keeping secrets from him, I swallow my own jagged unease and hug him tighter. I’ll tell him once we’ve both healed, I decide. Once this overwhelming fear doesn’t matter anymore, and this is all just a footnote in our history that reminds us how far we’ve come.
To my relief, Kit doesn’t push me for more, and instead he exhales into my hair, his breath warm against my skin. “You weren’t answering my texts.”
“Tibby has my phone, and she and Fitz were in the other car,” I say apologetically. “I should’ve asked Maisie to let you know everything was okay. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” says Kit. “She wouldn’t answer me, either. I was afraid…” His Adam’s apple bobs.
“She’s bruised, and her wrist might be sprained, but I think she’s more shaken than anything.” I brush my lips against his cheek. “We’re both okay, Kit. I swear. Everything’s okay.”
It takes him a minute to release me, and once he does, I slipmy hand into his and lead him back to my apartment. Ingrid trails us as we go, and for once, I’m grateful for her presence.
“Gia and Rosie are on their way here,” says Kit as he rubs his swollen eyes. “I should let them know everything’s okay.”
“I need to change anyway,” I say. “Do you want to track them down, and I’ll meet you in Maisie’s room?”
His frown makes it clear he doesn’t want to go anywhere without me right now, but when we reach my door, I stand on my tiptoes and give him a lingering kiss.
“I’m fine, Kit. I promise,” I say. “I’ll join you in a few minutes, all right? Maybe you could order Maisie something from the kitchen. She was pretty shaken.”
“Tea ought to steady her,” he agrees, and he kisses me again. “Do you want anything?”
“A peanut butter and jelly—jam—sandwich,” I request, even though my appetite is long gone. It gives him something productive to do, though, and I’ll eat every sandwich in Windsor if it helps him feel a little less lost.
He sees me into my sitting room before heading off, and as soon as I’m alone, I head into my bedroom and sink down onto the edge of my mattress. For a moment, I stare at the cream carpet, my vision unfocused and my head swimming. But at last, without any conscious thought, I bury my face in my hands and finally let myself cry.
I don’t know why the crowd scared me so damn much. I don’t know why I’m suddenly afraid of everything outside the castle walls. But even though the broken barrier was an accident, even though the man in the scarf didn’t have a gun and I was never in any real danger, every inch of me feels like I’ve escaped some horrible fate.
Was he the one who shot me and Kit? The thought is so preposterous that I almost dismiss it immediately, but it’s no less possible than the idea that Ben was somehow behind it. The man was at the protest in front of Sandringham, after all, and the fact that he was here today, too…
