Page 43 of For the Love of the Quest

Thomasin’s eyes went unfocused as she searched for words. “I only remember the stars. Sitting in her lap, learning about the constellations. I think I can hear her voice if I try really hard.”

“She loved you,” Edith said.

Another shrug. “I hope so.”

“She did.”

Thomasin looked at her, and for a second, Edith swore there was a faint sheen of tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away before they could fall. “Thank you,” Thomasin said, her voice rough.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Edith knew too well what it felt like to be unloved, and it was a crime that Thomasin knew it too.

Thomasin released a deep sigh, the tension leaving her shoulders, then changed the subject. “Tell me about your family. You seemed sure that your father wouldn’t respond to the ransom.” The question was gentle, but there was an undeniable curiosity beneath her words.

“My father loves me, but I don’t think he likes me very much.”

Thomasin frowned. “Why not?”

“I’m silly, loud, emotional. I couldn’t trick anyone into marrying me,” Edith admitted quietly.

Thomasin shuffled closer to her, so that their knees and elbows touched, so that the words they said felt safe and protected in thelittle space between their mouths. “You are very silly, and I like it very much.”

Grins broke across both their faces, and Edith could feel the blush coloring her cheeks. She thought—hoped—Thomasin might lean in and kiss her again. She wasn’t sure if it was acceptable yet for her to initiate. Not to mention, she wasn’t sure she even knew how.

But Thomasin didn’t kiss her. Instead, she asked, “Do you have any siblings?

“Why?” Edith wasn’t sure why Thomasin would care. Surely she wanted to keep things fun, right?

Thomasin leveled Edith with a serious gaze. “Because I want to know you. Everything about you.”

Fear tightened Edith’s stomach. She didn’t want to say something that would put Thomasin off her. But Thomasin had asked, and so Edith forced herself to trust that she wanted to know.

She told her about Jonathan and Marigold. How they had been inseparable as children but had grown further apart with every passing day. That she was unspeakably happy they had found fulfilling lives for themselves, but it tore her heart in two that those lives didn’t have room for her. She even told Thomasin she wasn’t sure she’d ever find her own happiness the way those two had, and that she might have to be content with a life spent alone, prioritizing people who had long since found better priorities, because no one in their right mind had ever prioritized her. But she did her best to not resent them, because they were only doing what they were supposed to do. They were in the right. It was Edith who was stunted, broken, frozen in time.

“You’re on a noble quest,” Thomasin whispered. “That doesn’t seem frozen to me.”

“Maybe,” Edith said.

“And you’re wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

Thomasin reached her hand up and stroked her fingertips across Edith’s cheek, before bringing them to rest on her jawline. “I’ll prioritize you.”

On a surge of confidence, Edith took the hand that was cupped along her jaw and brought it to her lips. She brushed her lips across Thomasin’s knuckles and looked up at her through her lashes. “Only if I can prioritize you too.”

“Deal,” Thomasin said, her eyes darkening.

Edith let her finger trace over the letters inked onto her knuckles. “Who did these?”

“I did,” Thomasin said with a smug smile.

Surprise colored her next words. “Just these, or all your tattoos?”

Thomasin gave a cursory glance at her arms. “Most of them, yeah. Except for the ones I couldn’t reach.”

Edith looked at the artwork strewn across Thomasin’s body in a new light. The tattoos weren’t just windows into Thomasin’s life. They were a masterpiece of skill and heart. “You’re incredibly talented.”

“I know,” she shrugged, but her dimple deepened as her smile grew wider.