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“Perhaps we could just send the Princess?” Count Armand said. “Tell the Soumort Princess we are conceding and have decided to hand Princess Thicket over. Then, while she is in the castle, she can strike.”
“You want to lie?” Thicket asked. The idea churned in her gut.
“It’s not like she didn’t deceive us first,” Count Armand retorted.
“She is our future queen, not an assassin,” Caspian argued.
“The Soumort Princess will die by Princess Thicket’s hand anyway. What does it matter how?”
They chose you—again—casting me aside just like they did the raven. But they don’t know what I know.
You are destined to destroy them.
The Council continued to argue back and forth on whether or not Thicket should go to Minloc. Thicket didn’t say a single word. What could she even say? Caspian had warned her once not to make promises she couldn’t keep. Any attempts to reassure them that she was capable of taking on Lavender by herself and winning would fall flat, even to her own ears.
Just because she had decided she would take on the mantle of responsibility didn’t mean she was capable of it. In all likelihood, facing Lavender alone would be the same as Vindrya turning her over.
In the end, Caspian persuaded the Council to adjourn the meeting and reconvene tomorrow once everyone had time to think on their options. They begrudgingly agreed, however the overall consensus seemed to be that they had to act before Lavender did and the fastest way to ensure she was no longer a threat was to see that she was dead.
“Thicket.” Elian’s hand brushed her shoulder. “Care to take a walk?”
She nodded numbly and let him lead her to the door. Marcellus stood, making a move towards them. Thicket held up a hand, stopping him. “Can Elian and I talk alone?”
Marcellus' eyes sharpened. “After your little adventure earlier?”
“Please,” she cut him off before the words ‘absolutely not’ could pass his lips. “Give us an hour.”
She couldn’t remain sequestered in the farmhouse, or the sanctuary of peace he had carved for her forever.
She needed to stop running. From Lavender. From Elian. From her responsibilities.
It was time to face the bleak fate awaiting her.
His jaw worked in protest. Thicket knew he was vehemently against it, but whatever he saw in her face made him click his tongue and say, “Thirty minutes. If you are not back by then, I am coming to find you.”
“Thank you,” Thicket said.
Marcellus didn’t respond. His eyes slid to Elian. “If anything happens to her—”
“I’ll protect her,” Elian said, taking Thicket’s hand and stepping out into the fading sun.
Chapter Nineteen
They walked in silence for a while, listening to the sound of boats knocking against the sides of the streets or the bob of water as fish dipped above the surface. The sunset was visible here. The rivers of water were the gasoline and the setting sun was the match that lit the whole world on fire, creating an explosion of color Thicket had never seen before.
How much longer would they be able to take in sights like this?
How much longer until their world fell apart?
As much as the idea of facing Lavender terrified her, she might not be left with any choice. Lavender’s dreams had made one thing very clear. She wouldn’t let Thicket rest until she was out of the picture.
Still, Thicket couldn’t get over how coincidental Alouette’s capture seemed. Why now, when they were reliant on Dymree’s support, and not during the century Vindrya was isolated?
As the sun submerged beneath the horizon, lampposts illuminated the streets. They turned onto one of the bridges arching over the canals.
Thicket leaned over the railing. Ivory light coiled across the surface of the night-stained water, disturbing the reflection of the brightly painted buildings surrounding them. “Do you really think revenge on Dymree is the reason the Desert Kingdom kidnapped Alouette?” she asked.
Elian shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe Dymree did something we are unaware of to upset them. I wouldn’t be surprised. Power, wealth, and greed fuel that kingdom. They’ve never been able to manage a good relationship with any kingdom.”
