Page 123 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

Returning to my bed, I set down my clean dress before freeing myself from my wedding gown’s tight bodice. Contorting myself to reach the fastenings behind me, I find myself missing Tiffy. Her smile, the ease with which she gets me in and out of gowns. Her soft, motherly nature, despite being so young.

I wonder what she would say if she were here.

Eventually, I loosen the bodice enough to pull it down past my hips. I step out of it and into my old, familiar dress. Once I’m clothed, I pick up my ruined wedding gown and fold it, placing it on the floor of the wardrobe when I’m done.

Taking a deep breath, I leave my bedroom.

When I reach the first floor, I see Acantha has moved from the hearth to the table. She sets out three wooden bowls—one for her, one for Father, and one for me.

She fills one and sets it aside before spooning hot stew into the next two bowls. Then, she places wooden spoons into all three.

“I’ll go bring this to Father,” she tells me, her tone still muted.

Sitting, I nod.

When she returns, she takes the seat next to mine and pulls her bowl closer. I do the same and lift my spoon, gently blowing away the steam.

She smiles at me, though I can tell it’s weak. “I’m glad you’re home.”

I return her expression. “Me, too. I’ve missed you.”

Acantha’s mouth wobbles. “I’ve missed you, too. So much.”

“I know.” It kills me, knowing I’ll have to leave her again so soon.

But I can’t stay. Even though I wish I could.

Now that I’m back here, it’s all the more obvious that my heart is back at High Keep.

With Viridian.

I take a bite of stew, chewing slowly.

I have to go back to Keuron to save my father. Whatever dark magic is poisoning him, the way to undo it is there. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

But I also have to go back for myself.

For my heart.

Acantha casts her eyes down, into her stew. “I understand if you can’t stay.”

That pulls my head up.

She meets my gaze, love and understanding shining in her expression. “We always knew you would never settle down here, Cryssa.”

“Are you sure?” I ask her. Guilt creeps into my chest. “What about Father?”

“I’ll look after him.” Acantha nods, emphasizing her words. She places her palm over my forearm. “Go. Live your life. We’ll be all right.”

I nod. Tears gather in my eyes.

Acantha pulls me into an embrace.

Glancing down at my bowl, she points a finger at it. “You’d better finish that first.”

I laugh, and then I do. Once my bowl’s empty, I run up to see Father. He cradles his own bowl of stew in his hands, leaning forward as he eats.

“I have to go,” I tell him, a sense of urgency permeating my words. I hug him and press my eyes shut for a moment before pulling away. “I’m going to help you, Father. You will be all right. I promise.”

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