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Another painful silence.

Finally, Kairyn chokes out, “Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you leaving?”

“I’ve been owned by Sira my entire life. No decision was ever truly my own. I need to…figure out how to be.”

“Why can’t you do that here?” Kairyn cries. “What about your family? I thought you always wanted to know your father⁠—”

“Listen, Kairyn. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. Rosalina’s the one who brought back Castletree. I had to get my fucking mom to rally the army. That was my responsibility, and I failed. I don’t belong here.”

“That’s fine. I understand, really, Wrenley, I do. I don’t belong here either. But let me come with you. Because I know I belong with you.”

“You don’t know that,” Wrenley spits.

“I’m your mate!” Kairyn lurches forward and grabs her face.

She digs her nails into his hands, wriggling out of his touch. “You don’t know what that means, Kai.”

His face falls, voice breaking. “But I know you. And I love you more than anything in all the seven realms.”

Wrenley turns away and squeezes her eyes shut. I see it: the war within her, the pain. But her hands clench into fists, and she says, “No. You knew the Nightingale. You…love the Nightingale.” When her eyes open, they are filled with tears. “I’m just Wrenley. And nobody could be in love with Wrenley.”

She walks to the door and pushes it open. I smash myself as tight as I can against the wall, praying her eyes are too filled with tears to see me.

Just before the door swings shut, Kairyn stretches out his hand. “Write to me.”

“What?” Wrenley turns around and steps back inside the room. I breathe a sigh of relief, still hidden.

“Write to me,” Kairyn repeats. “You don’t have to say much. A line. ‘I’m not dead’. That’s all I need.” He turns, movements frantic, and rummages through the drawers of a dresser. From there, he pulls out a piece of parchment and folds it with quick, precise lines. A paper bird forms, appearing so small and fragile in his massive palms.

“Remember what I taught you?” he asks. The bird wisps into the sky, fluttering over to Wrenley.

Her lip curls in a sneer—but then she softens, holding out a finger. The paper bird lands delicately upon it. “I recall this little trick.”

“Write to me, Wrenley. You don’t need to tell me where you are or where you’re going or if you’re ever coming back. Just write to me.”

Wrenley crumbles the paper bird in her hand and stuffs it in her pocket. “Maybe. One line. If I remember.”

Kairyn’s eyes dart to the corner of the room. Faustrius’s large, black sword lays upon a white sheet. Despite Kairyn’s disdain for the weapon, he still treats it as holy. “You know, Wrenley,” he murmurs, “on your travels, maybe you should explore the Above. I hear there’s a lot of space. And not a lot of people.”

“There’s nothing there for me,” she breathes, then turns, taking a step toward the door.

“Wrenley—”

“What else could you possibly—” she begins to snap without turning around.

One moment, Kairyn is on the other side of the room. The next he’s grabbing her arm, spinning her back to him. They collide, his hands clutching her ribs, pulling her flush to him, her fingers snaking in his hair.

I really shouldn’t be here. Marigold, you owe me so much!

I’ve never seen such anger in a kiss, as if they’re fighting as they pull one another closer. Fighting to leave or fighting to stay?

I get my answer as Wrenley jerks away from Kairyn, her eyes flashing with something for a single moment before that hard look steels her features again. “Goodbye, Kairyn.” She spins out of his reach.

The door clicks shut behind her.

Wrenley stands, back to me, facing the other side of the hallway. Her shoulders heave. Then she stammers, “I know you were eavesdropping.”

Well, there was no staying hidden out here. I unsheathe myself from the wall. “Did you tell Rosalina you’re leaving?”