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He scowled. “I’m not worried because you’re going to leave.”

“Oh, is that right?” I said sardonically.

He didn’t rise to the bait. “Yes. You started getting sick when you believed all three of you would travel together to Aftermath, but it stopped when Lonnie left you. In short, being unhappy without her kept you alive. You’ll leave again to keep her safe.”

I scowled. I would do anything to keep Lonnie safe, but what he was suggesting felt impossible. Like I might shatter if I left just as quickly as if I stayed.

“How long?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I can’t say. Once you leave, it will become even more difficult for me to predict the immediate future. I can’t see Lonnie or myself, and Scion is unpredictable. I don’t think it will be long, though. A few months at most.”

“It won’t be long until what?” I said shrewdly.

“Until all this comes to an end,” he replied cryptically. “One way or another.”

I dragged frustrated hands through my hair. “What are you expecting me to do? Just go wait in Overcast? Have tea with my mother and brother while I wait for you all to possibly die?”

“No,” Ambrose said. “You know that would be pointless.”

“This all feels fucking pointless.”

He stood up, his face finally twisting into an expression of annoyance. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

“Don’t fucking do that. I’m not a child.”

“No, but you have no concept of patience. You think waiting a year or five is a long time. Try spending eighty years making plans. Thirty years living in fucking Aftermath. Ten years to see your mate. Then perhaps you wouldn't complain about waitinga few months to get everything you could possibly ever want. I’d tell you to stop feeling sorry for yourself, but if that keeps you alive longer than perhaps it’s worth it. Regardless, I’m not going to sit here and listen to you complain.”

He turned and marched toward the door.

“Wait!” I barked after him. “Then tell me what to do.”

“I can’t,” he said, his voice growing quieter as he walked away. “If I tell you what to do it will change things. All I can say is that if I just became the ruler of an entire kingdom, I might deign to spend some time there. It could be useful down the line.”

An hour later,I dragged myself upstairs to the main house.

Cross’s townhouse sat above the entrance to the barracks as both a front for the guild and an actual home for Cross and any of his guests.

I pushed open the door of the bedroom I’d once shared with Lonnie, and found Scion sitting on the bed. His legs were straight and he was leaning against the headboard, reading the leatherbound book that we’d gotten from the healer in Cheapside. Next to him, Lonnie was lying on her side wrapped only in a towel, her wet hair fanning out around her. She was using his thigh as a pillow and breathing heavily, clearly fast asleep.

Scion looked up when I entered, his eyes widening. “What are you doing walking around?”

“I’m fine,” I waved him off. My eyes darted toward Lonnie. “What’s going on?”

“She took a bath, came out here, and immediately passed out. Exhausted from the last few days, I suppose.” He narrowed his gaze, still watching me carefully. “Are you certain you’re alright? You don’t look fine.”

“Yeah, well, that has nothing to do with the arrows.”

I quickly reiterated everything Ambrose had said, and Scion listened in tense silence while Lonnie slept, blissfully unaware.

“So you’re leaving,” Scion said flatly. It was more of a statement than a question.

I nodded.

Ambrose had been right. I’d won the throne of Underneath—my father’s throne—then promptly left. The Unseelie kingdom was likely in disarray, and it was up to me to go control things. I couldn’t help but remember how right it had felt to be there—how natural. Like home.

Scion started to rise, jostling Lonnie. I put out a hand. “No, don’t wake her.’

“She’ll be livid if you don’t say goodbye.”

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