quiet, frozen like statues. Tobias and Leila struggled to catch their breath, while Drake remained stoic, his hand planted over his earless temple.
Faun turned to Leila. “Should I alert the Sovereign?”
Leila’s eyes widened. “No, no, everything’s fine.”
“Everything’s not fine,” Tobias hissed.
“Everything’s fine.” Leila glared at Drake. “The Dragon was just leaving.”
Drake glanced between Tobias and Leila, shooting a puff of air from his nostrils. With a grumble, he snatched up his ear and trudged out of the room.
A shallow breath escaped Leila’s lips. “Not a word to the Sovereign.”
Faun frowned. “Leila…”
“Promise me.”
Faun didn’t answer, and Leila’s gaze became desperate. “Promise me.”
Faun eyed Tobias—he stood frozen, not knowing what to do or say—then sighed. “I’ll fetch Damaris. We’ll take care of the mess.”
With a reluctant nod, she left the room, shutting the door behind her.
Tobias’s body thawed, and he bolted to Leila’s side, pulling her close. “My God, are you all right?”
She wasn’t; it was clear by her colorless face, her trembling hands.
“Leila?”
“I’m all right,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine.” She tore herself from his grasp. “You should go.”
“Go?” His eyes swept her over before landing on the red streaking her shoulder. “Leila, you’re bleeding.”
“It’s all right.” Her voice shook, and she cringed. “Go back to Cosima.”
“Are you mad? I’m not leaving you like this.”
“Tobias, just go.”
“Like hell.” He scooped her up into his arms.
“Tobias!” She flung her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of you whether you like it or not.”
He charged from the gallery, cradling Leila against his chest. Her entire body trembled in his embrace, and he hoped to God she couldn’t feel his anxious heartbeat pounding through him. Servants came down the corridor, and their eyes followed him like shadows—a suitor of The Savior, holding Her sister in his arms. He hurried his pace, pretending the passing girls weren’t staring at him, witnessing his blasphemy.
Leila’s study opened up around them, awash in grey. Tobias set her on a rose couch, then circled her desk, madly digging through her drawers.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“I’m looking for your potions.”
“Tobias…”
“You’re bleeding. I’m taking care of you.”
With a sigh, Leila headed toward a nearby shelf, grabbing two vials and a rag. She took her seat at the end of the couch, and Tobias nestled behind her; before he could ask, she handed the vials to him.
“What is this?”
“Water,” she mumbled. “And mint soap.”
“Leila, this isn’t—”
“It’s fine.”
She dropped the straps of her dress, letting the fabric fall in a pile at her waist, and swept her hair from her back. Slashes crisscrossed her shoulder, but it was the way she held herself with her spine curved and head low that wrecked him. She was different, shattered, as if pieces of her were still strewn across the gallery.
Tobias swallowed the lump in his throat, focusing on her shoulder. Thin scratches and a few deeper gashes tore through her flesh, a minor injury, though it pained him nonetheless. I’ll kill Drake. I’ll fucking kill him. He wetted the rag, then leaned into Leila. “Tell me if I’m hurting you, all right, darling?”
Leila said nothing, so Tobias went to work, dabbing at the wound and turning the rag red. He tried to make his touch gentle, but it didn’t seem to matter; Leila was stoic, not even flinching when he pulled a shard of glass from her flesh. He stared at the back of her head, wishing he could see her face, though he didn’t need to. Defeat oozed from her like an open sore.
“You’re quiet.”
Her voice came out in a whisper. “I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“I’ve gotten you involved in such a mess.”
“I believe I did it to myself.”
“You didn’t.”
“I entered the tournament,” he said. “I drew those pictures of you. I asked to kiss you. I did it, Leila. Me.”
Leila went quiet, and her silence bruised him.
“I’d do it all again, you know. I have no regrets.”
She took in a breath. “It’s so stupid. I could hardly defend myself.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve trained for this. I’ve trained for years.” Her shoulders stiffened. “And then the time comes, and…I’m a fool. Disarmed in seconds. I failed.”
“Drake is a mercenary, easily three times your size. There was nothing you could do.”
“I was pathetic.”
“You can’t possibly blame yourself for what happened.”
Leila didn’t answer, sitting lifelessly before him.
“Leila, speak to me.”
The quiet stretched on, slowly tearing away at him.
“Have you finished?” she finally said.
Tobias’s heart sank. “Yes.”
She slid her straps up her arms, situating her dress before going still.