Who?
“Torrin Brighthell.”
My mouth would have fallen open if I could have moved it—but instead, my eyes bulged.
You know Torrin? How?
Another chuckle.“You will have a note from him waiting on your nightstand. Meet with him.”
I paused for a moment.How can I trust him when I don’t even know if I can trustyou?
She sighed.“Hear him out.”
Her voice faded, and despite my frustrations, I drifted to sleep.
The second I began to gain consciousness again, my eyes shot open, and I flung myself up. Sure enough, when I awoke just past 5:00 a.m., a note was sitting on my nightstand. I rubbed my eyes as I picked up the small piece of parchment and blinked rapidly—my vision still blurry.
Western Forest. 6:00 a.m.
Do not be late.
-T
I jumped out of bed and quickly got ready, mindful not to wake Mother. While we typically got up early on market days, we tried to sleep in the rest of the week. Torrin must know that.
How long has he been watching me?
Mother would probably not agree with the idea of me meeting a grown man in the forest, let alone a member of the Royal Guard, but I needed to do this.
My mind drifted to the idea of him seeing Silas and me in the woods, and I tensed. That was probably reckless of me to do, but I didn’t regret it.
After brushing my teeth, I dressed in a long-sleeved tunic, pants, and knee-high boots. I threw my hair in a braid, slung my sword across my back, and tucked my dagger into my side. There was no way in hell I’d meet him without weapons.
I strolled past the bridge, the sun having just risen, and I waved up at the usual guard stationed there before making my way through the forest. When I worked my way through the first set of trees, I paused.
This forest was enormous. Where could he be in it? I quickly fished out his note that I had stuffed in my pocket, looking at it again.
“You’re here.”
I shrieked and whirled towards the voice, dagger in hand, and met eyes with Torrin as he put his hands up.
“Whoa! My apologies.”
“You scared the hell out of me!” I panted, one hand to my chest, my dagger in the other.
He just stared at me.
“Well?” I pressed, clearly annoyed.
Torrin wasn’t wearing his guard uniform today. Instead, he wore a deep maroon tunic, black arm guards, a matching protective girdle, dark pants and boots, and an ebony cloak with the hood pulled down. A sword was strapped around his back, and I could only guess the other weapons concealed at his sides.
He crossed his arms, then smirked. “You seemed to have had fun here a few days ago.”
My whole face went red; I knew it did. “You, you did not—”
He raised his hands. “Once I got the hint of what would go down, I left. I had no wish to traumatize myself,” he said calmly as his smirk faded.
I groaned in frustration and sheathed my dagger. “Why are you stalking me?”
