Page 29 of Not Another Happily Ever After

Did he say as many to me last night?I cannot recall.

I barely have time to process the vicious onslaught of memories from last night or the rapidly growing heaviness in my chest when the cutting sound of metal zings through the air. Two men have squared off, their swords aimed at the other’s chest. Where they think their swords will go, aside from caught in the lowered beams of the small guest quarters, is beyond me.And apparently beyond reason.

“I suppose I should be grateful for that. My knights would never allow a Redhood within the castle’s walls. Let alone within ten feet of its princess,” Thoren bites.

Frog’s eyes flicker to me, softening in a way fear would never allow.

His guard is down, only for a moment, but that is all it takes for Thoren to find exactly what it is he’s looking for. A weakness.

And for reasons I can’t begin to make sense of, this knight’s weakness isme.

I pacethe narrow corridor outside of Father’s chancellery, where he’s holding an audience with both Thoren and Frog.

The men speak in hushed tones. A disgruntled noise here. A mirthless laugh there. Meaningless chatter, is all it is.

Not once have I heard Galahand’s name.

There is no Memorial to be held. No mourning to be seen.

All I have to go off of is the comment Thoren made. He believes the Redhoods are to blame. Though no real reason has been shared outside the theory of it being from petty theft.

So, naturally, I have no other choice than to spy through the little metal keyhole that’s been fashioned into the large door. A plan that would work great if I could just?—

“Keen on losing the other eye now, are you?”

I jump, guilty as a Gretel whose mouth has been found covered in crumbs.

Until I see who’s sauntering toward me.

My relief melts into a grin. “Brother.”

“Sister.” He meets me with a damp hug and a limp smile. “I heard about Galahand. I’m so sorry.”

Me too.

Gally may have not been the most sensical person, or the most pleasant to be around, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve death.

I let Xander hold me in his arms, despite the wet chill now racing over me. Though, I do wonder how he came to be this way. Did Father send him out to find the Redhoods? Or did he simply favor the rain over a bath? With there being no sun to shine on our reservoirs, our running water is but a few degrees short of freezing.

I pluck at his half-dried tunic when I spot the fresh bruises hidden just beneath. I lean back. He looks worse than the day before. And his eyes? They’re no longer the vibrant lilac I remember. They’ve dulled into something paler, nearly unrecognizable.

“Who did this to you? Was it Father?” I breathe, noting the familiar marker of Father’s right hook. “Was this because of me? Because I didn’t listen to your warnings about climbing to my tower’s window?”

“No,” he hushes, pulling me back into his arms so that the irrefutable evidence is no longer in my line of sight. But there is no dismissing what I saw.

He’s hurt. And I’m leaving.

My stomach knots picturing him trying to dress his own wounds. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself? That you’ll wash your wounds and not just bandage them in dirty linens?”

“Hey, I wash my clothes at least once a month.”

“Promise me, Xander. Promise me you won’t let this place ruin you. I can’t leave without knowing you’ll be okay.” I choke, and his grip tightens around me. “I need to know you’ll be okay. I?—”

“Shhh. It’s alright. I’m alright.” Xander presses his wet lips to my forehead, rocking me in his arms.

“Because of you, we are all going to be okay. And not because some curse says so, but because of who you are. Inhere.” His bruised knuckles touch the flat of my chest, carrying the weightof his words in their heat. “You carry the promise of hope in every beat.”

My eyes swell, stung by the prickle of unshed tears.