Page 148 of Scars Beneath a Serpent’s Scales

“Yes.” He watched her with desperate eyes, but Emmeline pushed on.

“Did you send her to track me?”

Roremar’s brow creased. “What do you mean?”

“When you and I weren’t speaking, she found me.”

Roremar pursed his lips, finally saying, “No I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t. Cirre must have done that on her own.” He leaned forward, want jolting through her at his proximity. “And in case you’re wondering, she’s an excellent judge of character.”

The implication lingered in the silence, but Emmeline forced her attention to the window, to the stars. In her terror last night, she’d shoved her magic so far down it hadn’t pushed at her to read since, but the locks were unraveling.

“Come on,” Roremar said as if hearing her thoughts. “Get your things. I’ll walk you back to the Academy.”

Quietly, Emmeline slung her cloak back over her shoulders and gathered what she needed. They discussed the new information from Falliare on the walk, both of their suspicions turning toward the Snake Charmer since the latest victim worked at the Mezzanine.

“I don’t think he’s guilty,” Emmeline said as they crept through the corridors of the Academy. “But I find it difficult to believe he doesn’t know something if this is at his door.”

“We can talk to him again, too.” In a gravelly, threatening mumble Roremar added, “In the public hall.”

Relief and gratitude fluttered through her at his protective tone.

When they reached her door, Emmeline faced Roremar and finally voiced the question that had been poised on her tongue all evening. “Why do you feel you must do it on your own?”

He sighed, thumb once again dragging stars across her palm. “I promised to take care of them. I wouldn’t be doing that if I let Nico kill himself the way I am or let my sister come home to take some low-level job here instead of living her dream on the continent.”

“And what about you?” Emmeline asked softly.

Roremar gave her a sad, crooked smirk as he leaned a shoulder against the door, the moonlight streaming through the windows carving his features into an image worthy of museums. “I’m tied to this isle, Emmeline. No matter what, I will always have to be here. May as well spend my time this way.” He paused. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

“What?” She barely breathed, heart fluttering as Roremar brushed her hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered against her jaw.

“I see the freest person I’ve ever known.”

Emmeline pressed her back to the wall, staring at the tapestry opposite her door. “I’m not free. I’m alone.”

“You’re not,” Roremar asserted. “No matter where you go after this, you’ll have me—and my family. I think my sisters and mother fell in love with you today. Truthfully, Leo probably did, too.”

Her eyes stung, the tapestry blurring as longing splintered through her. She rolled her head to face him. “That may be, but I’m always searching for answers. For her.”

“Maybe you’re searching, but you’re unburdened in a way no one I’ve met is. Like you belong to the stars.”

Belong.

That image shattered the illusion of herself in her mind. This hollowed out, isolated person who lived behind stained glass. What if she’d been looking into someone else’s cage all this time, but the view was sprawling at her heels? What if by embracing this isolation, she’d set herself free long ago?

Roremar looked at her with an intensity that said he wanted to keep her here, but that he wouldn’t dare. It made her heart race, her palms sweaty, to be so transparent.

She’d fought so hard to keep everyone away, but for the first time, with those steel eyes on her and all her wounds ripped wide, she wasn’t sure if untethered was what she should be fighting to be.

“Sometimes I think I might,” she confessed on a whisper, not elaborating. “Goodnight, Reckless.”

Despite everything he told her tonight, his lips curled at the name, like her use of it now was a secret between them, sealing over all the ones they’d traded.

Stepping closer so the toes of his boots touched hers, Roremar pressed his lips to her forehead, the words “Goodnight, Huntress” sinking into her skin.

And for once, she didn’t feel so alone.

Chapter Forty-Seven