Page 53

“Most of them are wrong.”

I sat beside her instead of giving the court another chance to throw me across the pool. Our hands remained linked between us, keeping the silver path open.

For a while, we listened to the spring. The throne’s pull eased to a constant pressure around my waist. I could endure it.

Bryony rested her elbows on her knees. “You helped me in the garden without trying to take control. You told me what to do with the ward, then left me to decide how to reach it.”

“I couldn’t reach you.”

“You still could have shouted orders until I stopped thinking. You didn’t.”

I looked at our joined hands. “You’d already shown me you make better decisions when you understand the danger. I gave you what I knew.”

“Then let’s make that the rule.” She sat up and faced me. “I can’t learn Harrowmere in a day, and you can’t reach half of it without me. You answer my questions directly. If you don’t know, say so. If the truth is dangerous, tell me why and let me decide what to do with it. I’ll keep opening the parts we need, and I won’t use the Crown to command you. I’m not promising blood or freedom.”

She was offering cooperation. I wanted more, but I could accept what she gave.

When she first crossed the estate boundary, I had planned to use attraction to earn the blood I needed. I hadn’t expected her to demand honesty, or how badly I’d want to give it.

“I accept,” I said. “Ask me about the court, Adrian or what I am, and I’ll answer as fully as I can. I won’t trade information for blood or obedience. In return, I want the chance to help keep us alive. That’s all.”

“You don’t get to decide whether I take a risk.”

“No. I’ll explain why it may kill you, and I’ll argue if you ignore me. The choice remains yours.”

She held my gaze. “I still need the truth about Cecily before anything else changes.”

“You’ll have a direct answer when you ask.”

“Then we have an alliance.”

We didn’t need an oath or more blood. Bryony kept her hand in mine while warm water moved through the pool beside us.

I turned her palm up and pressed my mouth to the uninjured skin under her thumb. Her breath caught, and her fingers curled lightly against my cheek.

The kiss was brief. I wanted another.

Metal struck metal in the garden.

I rose and pulled Bryony up with me. The silver path remained clear, but every rose had turned towards the outer gate.

“That wasn’t the house,” she said.

“No.”

We returned to the main garden together. I kept Bryony close while the chain dragged behind me, tight but moving.

A man stood on the other side of the iron bars.

Adrian had come alone. His dark coat was clean, his dark hair swept back from his face. One hand rested against the outer seal while black light moved around his fingers. The ward kept him out.

His gaze went to the chain at my waist, followed its new length and stopped on my hand around Bryony’s.

Anger tightened his mouth.

“Step away from him, Bryony,” Adrian said. “I came to speak to you.”

14