“Different how?”

“If I tell you, will you promise not to get mad at me for it?”

“No.”

He snorted. “There’s a perfect example.”

I stopped and turned toward him with a glare. “Explain.”

“You’re angry. Moody. Stomping around, snapping at simple questions, treating everyone like an enemy.”

He wasn’t wrong. Lately, I’d felt a growing outrage prodding me like a hot iron, the fuse of my temper trimmed alarmingly short.

At first, I’d attributed it to my mother’s absence, but she had been gone for months.

It was in the weeks since swearing off the flameroot that things had really changed. With my mind now clear and my emotions no longer blunted to a dull edge, the injustices of the world grated on me in a way I found more and more impossible to ignore.

The snide comments from Teller’s classmates. The whispered gossip of the townsfolk. The violence and cold callousness of the Descended guards.

My whole life, I’d tried to convince myself I didn’t care what others thought or did, but with the lifting of the fog, I was beginning to realize that I very much did care. And I was sick of pretending otherwise.

I frowned as we fell back into step on the well-worn path. “Are you going to lecture me about it now, too? You want me to go back to being quiet, obedient Diem?”

“You haven’t been quiet or obedient for a day in your life.” He nudged my side with his shoulder. “And I trust your judgment. You’re one of the best healers in the realm. Mother made sure of that. If you don’t think you need the flameroot, you know what you’re doing.”

I grumbled, though my chest warmed. “At least one member of my family trusts me.”

“Father trusts you. He’s just worried about you. We both are.”

“I’m fine, I swear. If the symptoms come back, I’ll start taking it again.” I sighed and hooked an arm through his, tugging him close. “And you’re right. I have been angrier lately. Though I’m not sure if it’s the flameroot or...” I waved a hand vaguely around me, motioning to the world beyond. “Everything.”

“I know.” His voice grew quiet. “Do you think we’ll ever see her again?”

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to assure him that all would be well and this was only a brief hiccup in our otherwise boring lives.

More than that, I wanted to believe it myself.

But Teller had always been the one person I could never lie to, even when the truth was too painful to bear.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I thought I would sense in my heart somehow if she were really gone. And Father seems convinced she’s still out there. But for her to vanish without even saying goodbye or sending a letter...” I squeezed my eyes shut to fight off the dread seeping into my thoughts. “She’s always had her secrets, but this is unusual, even for her.”

“And your investigation turned up nothing?”

I stiffened. “It’s notnothing. I found out she’d been going to the palace more frequently the week before she disappeared. One of the royals was unwell, and they’d called on her almost every day. Maura’s been going in her place since then, but she swears she hasn’t seen or heard anything unusual.”

“What about that Descended man you saw her talking to?”

A memory flashed through my mind—dark features cut with a scar, piercing eyes, that enthralling voice. I saw his face every time I closed my eyes, heard his low timbre whispering in my ears when my mind wandered. In the months since, I’d searched for some sign of him, hoping he might know something, anything, that could help me find her.

I’d made the mistake of asking a few of the townsfolk, but I saw the scorn in their eyes when I described my mother following a handsome Descended man into Paradise Row. Rumors that she had fallen pregnant out of wedlock and fled for shame spread like wildfire soon after.

The reminder of it brought my anger roaring back to the surface. In Mortal City, many naive mortal women got caught in the spell of charming Descended men, only to find themselves heartbroken and disgraced. But that would never, ever be my mother—not for a thousand reasons.

“I’m still looking for him,” I responded tightly. “But I’m not giving up. I’ll find her, Teller.”

“I believe you. If anyone can, it’s you.”

Again we walked again in silence, the crushing weight of her absence making the air around us heavy and hard to breathe.