Elowen’s eyes widened in horror. “Paesha, no. You can’t.”
“She will if she wants you both to live,” Ezra countered, the threat unmistakable.
Elowen looked up at me, her face suddenly calm despite the blood trickling down her temple. She shook her head, her gaze never wavering from mine. “I’m not afraid, Paesha. Don’t you dare bring that child here.”
Thea nodded in fierce agreement. “We both know what matters most. You protect her. Whatever it takes.”
Ezra laughed, the sound like breaking glass. “How touching. Two mortals, willing to die for a child that isn’t even theirs.” He turned to me, extending the pen once more. “What will it be, Huntress? Their lives? Or the note?”
I stared at the pen, at Elowen and Thea kneeling before a god who saw them as nothing but leverage, at the audience holding their collective breath, at my father’s broken body now discarded on the floor.
“Well, Huntress?” Ezra’s smile was triumphant, certain of his victory. “What’s it going to be?”
61
Thorne
The orphanage bustled with life, laughter echoing through hallways that had once stood silent and empty. Children darted past as I watched Quill kneeling before a group of younger ones, Boo sitting proudly at her side as she told them a story.
“And then the warrior princess raised her magical sword?—”
“Like Paesha’s?” a small girl interrupted.
“Exactly like Paesha’s. And she said to the evil wizard?—”
“‘I’m not afraid of you!’” the children chorused.
“That’s right. Because warrior princesses are never afraid. Well, maybe sometimes. But they’re brave anyway.”
I leaned against the doorframe, content to observe without intruding. These moments of normalcy felt precious, fragile things to be protected at all costs.
“They adore her,” Briony said, appearing beside me. The young woman’s gentle smile belied the strength that had made her Paesha’s first choice to oversee this place.
“She understands them. She knows what it’s like to feel alone.”
“Our queen has done a remarkable thing here. Most nobles fund orphanages for appearances, not out of true concern. Butshe’s different. She remembers what it was to be hungry, to be forgotten. She remembers the Hollow.” Briony turned back to the children. “Will you be staying for supper? We’re serving beef stew and honey rolls.”
“I think we?—”
The words died in my throat as the atmosphere suddenly shifted. The air grew heavy. The children sensed it too, their laughter faltering as they huddled closer to Quill. I moved toward the entrance hall, power already gathering at my fingertips.
The massive front doors burst open, revealing three figures silhouetted against the early evening sun. Bellatora stood at the center, her armor gleaming. Beside her, Minerva’s face was serious. Solemn. At her other side, barely standing, was Tuck, fucking bloodied and broken.
Panic raced through me, muting everything else in this damn realm. “What the hell happened?” I caught Tuck as he stumbled to a nearby bench.
“Ezra,” he managed through swollen lips.
“Where’s Paesha?”
Tuck’s eyes slid away from mine. “I can’t tell you.”
“What do you mean, you ‘can’t tell me’?”
“He can’t tell you,” Bellatora stepped forward, hand resting on her sword hilt, “because your Ever bound him to silence with a bargain.”
I stared at her, momentarily speechless. “Why are you here?”
“He could tell me. And now I’m telling you.”
