to leave. I won’t ask you to wait for me, I told him. In the moment, it felt like the right thing to do. The fair thing. But the look on his face was so horrible when I said it. As if I’d killed his brother all over again. He kissed me, and I could feel how deeply the hurt ran in us both.
“Any idea what you’re going to say?” Kilorn glances at me sidelong and I still my face, trying to hide the torment beneath. My mind whirls, a hurricane of every thought I’ve had over the past months. Everything I’ve wanted to say to him.
I missed you. I’m glad I went away. It was a mistake to go. It was the right thing to do. I’m sorry I killed him. I’d do it again if I had to. I need you now. I want more time. I love you. I love you.
“Not sure,” I finally mutter, forcing the words out.
Kilorn makes a clucking sound, a scolding teacher. Annoyed. “Are you clamming up because you really don’t know or you just don’t want to tell me?”
“I can barely talk it through in my own head, let alone out loud,” I reply quickly, before I lose my nerve. “I don’t know what I’m going to say, because I still don’t know . . . what I want.”
“Oh.” He pauses, thoughtful. Always an odd look on Kilorn Warren. “Well, that’s a perfectly fine way to feel.”
Something so simple shouldn’t bring me such relief, but it does. I put my hand on his arm, just for a moment, and squeeze. He nudges me back.
“Thanks, I needed that,” I whisper.
“I know,” he whispers in return.
“The gala isn’t until the end of the week.” I count off the hours in my head. Tonight, all of tomorrow, the day after . . . “Do the Nortans really need that much time to get ready for a party?”
Or do they want more time here? Did someone want to be here early? And will he stay for very long after? Get a grip, Mare Barrow. Just one mention of Cal, a few hours separating me from him, and I’m already going crazy. And for what reason? It’s only been two months since I saw him last. That isn’t very long, at all.
Was it even enough? For us to heal, to forget, to mourn?
Or was it too much? Has he moved on? Did he wait? Have I?
Both possibilities fill me with icy dread.
“If you bothered to read your reports, you might have figured out that the gala is pretty much just cover,” Kilorn says, his voice bringing me back. “An excuse to get all the key players in the alliance in one spot without causing too much concern. There have been delegation meetings before, but we’ve never been able to get everyone together at the same time until now. The States, the Guard, the Republic. The whole gang.”
I narrow my eyes at Kilorn. “The Lakelands aren’t stupid. They’re watching our movements. They probably have spies in our ranks. Iris and Cenra will know we aren’t just drinking and dancing all week.”
“Like you said, I don’t know anything of importance,” he says brightly. I have to roll my eyes as he keeps talking. “Farley mentioned something about deniability. If we convene for war councils and make our intentions clear, the Lakelands and Piedmont have no choice but to move first. It’s escalation.”
The logic isn’t entirely sound, but when has that stopped any of us?
“So the gala buys time,” I mutter.
“And some drinking and dancing never hurt anyone.” Kilorn spins for effect, his boots sliding over the pavement.
In my experience, balls, parties, and gala events aren’t cause for celebration, but it isn’t in me to ruin his fun. I can tell Kilorn is excited, and I suppose my family might be too. Back home, the best we ever got were a few fiddles in the market square or a barn hall. They’ve never seen what the other half is capable of in their delights.
Sneering, I brush some nonexistent dirt from the shoulder of his jacket. It’s too small for him, though it used to fit a few months ago. “I hope you have a suit handy.”
He flicks my fingers away. “I figured Gisa could help.”
In the distance, I can hear Bree still needling our sister, probably begging for the exact same thing. I grin at the thought of her being in such high demand. She’ll certainly enjoy turning the boys