It seemed like such a noble thing at the time, to promise my aid to my friend. I already got my dream—though part of it I didn’t know about at the time. And since I didn’t save her from the pain she endured as a youth, I’d thought this was my chance. Not that I can ever hope to make it up to her.

There’s something odd that happens when people get their happy ending. I always scoffed at it when I was younger—friends finding love and getting married, and then the inevitable…a long line of suitors hand-picked by my incredibly happy friends, just insisting that they wanted the same for me.

I’m happy with Ellie. It’s like the part of me that wandered about aimlessly for so many years is finally anchored at shore.

I’m happy, and I want my friend to be happy too.

But it was stupid to promise that I’d be the guarantor of that happiness.

Again, not something I can take back now.

I rub at the back of my neck before I go to find Blaise in the library.

There’s no dousing the joy in my heart at the news that I’m going to be a father. A father to Ellie Payne’s child—Fates, the thought threatens to plaster a stupid smile on my face.

But I’d be lying if I said the sight of Blaise doesn’t, if not dampen my joy, then at least push it to the side for a moment.

Everyone evacuated the library after Lydia’s surprise arrival, pairing off with their confidants to make joint decisions about what needs to be done next. Asha with Kiran. Ellie with me. Lydia with Elias. Even Marcus with Amity.

Everyone except for Blaise, who I suddenly realize has no one to convene with.

My heart aches for my friend as I watch her, bent over in a chair, picking at the threads of a tapestry, tears spilling down her face and soaking the fabric.

She startles as I approach, stuffing the tapestry into a satchel by her side before crossing her legs, as I’ve never seen her do, and straightening her back.

“I didn’t notice you there,” she says, clearing her throat. It’s the type of thing you say to make everything seem normal, though for Blaise, whose hearing should be better than even mine, it means the opposite.

That Blaise is so wrapped up in whatever thoughts were causing those tears is not a good sign.

She gestures for me to sit across from her, in the chair directly across from the blazing hearth, but I remain standing.

“I see you’re keeping up with the cross-stitching,” I say, nodding toward the satchel.

Blaise wipes the tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands. “It’s not technically cross-stitching, but good try. It keeps me distracted,” she says. “Clarissa would have been proud to find out I’d finally learned how to do something with thread.”

It’s supposed to be a joke, one with a particularly Blaise brand of humor, but it falls flat.

“I just wanted you to know that I support you.” The words come out of my mouth sounding wrong. Is this really what I came in here for? To excuse the stupid promise I made Blaise? The one that put her above what my family most likely needs?

I should have thought this through better.

Blaise raises a brow, and I sigh. “Earlier, when Kiran was grilling you. I supported you, and I want you to know it’s because I’m your friend and I trust you.”

Tear stains glisten on Blaise’s cheeks as she turns to the fireplace and blinks.

“I like it here, by the fire.” Her voice is lighthearted, even though it’s hoarse. “It’s like cheating.”

I frown in question, and she laughs.

“Because I can’t be in the sun, but I get to feel the fire’s warmth against my skin. It’s not quite the same, but if I close my eyes, I can pretend.”

Blaise’s eyes glaze over, like she isn’t talking to me any longer, but someone far off. Someone in the past.

But soon enough she snaps back to attention, like she’s banishing a thought, and folds her hands in her lap. “Thanks for supporting me. You didn’t have to do that. You’re a good friend. A better one than I’ve been to you.”

“Well, don’t praise me too highly. Let’s not forget that Ellie’s the best friend of us all. She’s coming too, you know.”

Blaise’s eyes flicker, or perhaps it’s just the fire in the hearth dancing in the still watery lining of her eyes. “Do you think that’s safe?” she asks, though hesitantly. “Ellie’s human. If something were to happen, she can’t heal like you and I can.”

A chair sounds good right about now, so I collapse into one, placing my elbows on my knees even as my heart sinks in my chest. I already know it was a mistake to agree to let Ellie come. Blaise, of all people, being concerned with my lack of forethought feels like having a nail driven into the coffin of my stupidity.

“I know. I’m just…” Terrible at saying no? A pushover, just like my father has always complained? A boisterous, excited fool who got too wrapped up in the rush of the moment to think clearly?

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Blaise says, and though she’s clearly backtracking after witnessing my reaction, I can’t help but be comforted by it. “I’m pretty sure Lydia’s coming whether we want her to or not. Between you, Lydia, and me, we can protect her. I promise.”

I don’t remind Blaise that without the fae curse, her promise has never meant much of anything.

CHAPTER 20

ASHA

Kiran paces back and forth in the bedroom lent to us by the King of Dwellen.

He’s making singe marks on the beautiful baby blue rug, but I hold my tongue.

“Please talk to me,” I finally say when I can’t bear the silence anymore.

Kiran stops and glances up at me. “I don’t like where all this is headed.”

Something bulges in my throat. “I don’t think any of us do, but we can’t just sit around and ignore that the world is on the brink of falling apart.”

Kiran forces his eyes shut. “I don’t want to ignore it. I just don’t want you getting caught up in the middle of it.”

I sigh, then plop down on the bed, folding my hands in my lap. “I don’t know that we have much of a choice about whether I’m in the middle of this.”

Kiran’s countenance falls from anger into something more desperate. “So you do want to go?”

“Want seems like a bit of a stretch. But I think I should go.”

We remain in silence for a moment, the only sound Kiran’s heavy breathing. “You didn’t say anything in the library.”

I arch a brow. “Do I need to express my opinions in front of everyone for them to be valid?”

Kiran shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “That’s not what I meant. I mean…” He swallows, and it looks as though it pains him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I frown, watching my husband’s features closely. The way his jaw has seemed permanently clenched since he returned from Othian. The worry constantly simmering in his amber eyes. He looks desperate for an answer, and it takes me a moment to recognize what he’s looking for, what he’s so terrified of.

Oh.