Torrin’s shoulders dropped. “That I am not sure of. I wasn’t told any specific timelines.”
“So, what, you could still be here as an old man if nothing changed?”
His eyes looked to the ground in contemplation, then rose to mine. “If it is what I must do.”
I frowned. Torrin was clearly loyal to his people and to this source, this…seer. “Should I tell him about me?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I know Silas loves you. But there are too many forces at play. I don’t think it wise, not now. Not yet.”
My shoulders sagged. I felt sick keeping all this from him. The voice said I can trust Torrin. But he was committing treason against Otacia, against Silas. If I told them of Torrin, he would be killed. And what would stop Torrin from telling them about me, about Mother?
I had no options. I was damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.
“If you so much as think of hurting Silas,” I said with deathly calm, my eyes shooting daggers at Torrin’s. I squeezed his hands back, but the gesture showed no kindness. “I will kill you.”
Torrin’s jaw flexed, and then he smiled at me softly. “We’re on the same page then.”
I gave him a scowl, and then he began to stride away.
“Wait!” I called, and he halted. “So…what do I do now?”
“Live,” he answered, speaking to me over his shoulder. “Be careful, be smart. I just needed you to know to find me when things change.”
“Just as I was told to find you.”
My body jerked as Torrin’s voice filled my head. He let out a laugh.
“If I need to speak to you, you’ll hear me like this…in your head.”He turned to me, expression blank as he spoke with me telepathically.“All you need to do is think back your response.”
“You're a telepath?” I asked out loud nervously.
I was blinking rapidly while Torrin smirked and walked away.
Bastard.
“I heard that.”
My eyes followed him as he vanished into the trees.
Good!
Chapter Twenty-Three
ELEVEN MONTHS LATER
Itwasthesixthof September, the last day I had with Silas before he turned eighteen. Before he was introduced to the Kingdom of Otacia.
I had spent the last few weeks, well,monthsdreading this day—the final day with him.
Over the past year, he had attempted to convince me to stay with him past his eighteenth birthday. He had even resorted to groveling. I wanted to be with him more than anything, but it wasn’t reasonable. Not only because of my social status but because of who I was.
I still hadn’t told him. I couldn’t.
Even if he couldn’t see it yet, he would witness the influx of princesses coming to the ball thrown in his honor next Saturday, and it wouldn’t be hard for him to get over me. I would be stuck dealing with my nostalgic feelings for…well, forever, I imagined.
I began to feel pain in my throat from the tears I was keeping inside while I sat at my kitchen table, the first time I had ever dreaded his arrival.
Mother walked in from the bathroom, tying her matching copper hair into a low pony. Her chestnut eyes met mine, and my damn lip started to tremble. She gave me a look of commiseration and tugged me into a hug as I rose from the chair.
