It’s unnatural for her to be so quiet.
She hasn’t spoken since she shoved the journal into her pack and curled up against a stone for the night. I doubt either of us got much sleep after tossing and turning on damp bedrolls until dawn dappled the ground, sneaking beneath our stone fort to wake us.
I look over at her, hair slipping from its braid to fall around a tired face. Her eyes are shut against the light pouring over her, hands curled beneath her cheek.
“I know you’re awake.”
I whisper the words, aware that she’s paying close enough attention to me to hear them. And still, she doesn’t stir. I sigh, shifting closer to her until we are sharing the same air. “Don’t be stubborn, Gray. I know you’re listening.” I lift a hand to tuck a silver strand behind her ear before running my fingers down the length of her neck. “I’ve gotten rather good at reading your body language.”
That has her eyes flying open to grace me with a glare.
“Then you should know that I was ignoring you,” she mumbles against her hands.
“As you normally do.”
I watch her struggle to fight a smile, and the sight of it has me doing the same. “I just…” She runs a hand over her face, suddenly serious. “I just have a lot on my mind. Barely slept.”
I nod, understanding how she’s feeling. We both discovered things last night that have our minds reeling, lives unraveling. Everything I’ve been taught to believe, everything Father told me to be true, is suddenly crumbling beneath the weight of scribbled words. All that I’ve done, all that I’ve justified…
Now I am nothing more than a monster without a cause.
“I know,” I say quietly. “I was awake beside you.” I feel her eyes on me as I take my time gathering our damp shirts.
“You had just as much to think about, I’m sure.” She tilts her head, watching me closely. “I’ve always believed I wasn’t diseased; I just had no way to prove it. But you… This is all very new to you.”
“I blindly trusted the Healers,” I murmur. “Trusted men who have known me since I was a child. But it seems the real problem was still trusting my father after everything.” I almost laugh. “Then again, the journal could be wrong.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I continue quietly. “Which is why I intend to find out what the real truth is. Interrogate every Healer if I have to.” She’s quiet for a long time, allowing me to sit with my thoughts. “And I’m going to tell Kitt.”
The words slip past my lips before I can swallow them. She sits up slowly, watching me closely. “You’re going to show him the journal?”
I nod. “He should know.”
“Do you think it will make a difference?”
“I don’t know anymore,” I say softly, shaking my head at theground. “I feel like I don’t knowhimanymore. He lived to please our father, and now that the king is gone before he feels he did…”
“He’s spiraling.”
“No, he’s fine,” I cut in sharply. “He’s going to be fine. He just needs to adjust, that’s all.” I look away, nodding to convince myself. “Kitt will come back to me.”
“Right,” she says quietly. I know she’s only agreeing to spare me from spiraling as well. Because the thought of Kitt as a crazed king keeps me up at night, keeps me hoping for my brother to return.
“We should get going.” I open her damp shirt and push it over her head.
She sputters, batting my hands away. “Thanks,” she mumbles, glaring as the shirt hangs limply around her neck.
“If you’d rather continue wearing that”—I nod to the skimpy tank cut low enough to be a distraction—“then, please, by all means.” I smile at the flush painting her cheeks.
“Don’t do that,” she huffs, pushing her arms through the sleeves and tugging the shirt down.
“Do what, darling?”
“That. The flirting.” Her eyes sweep over me accusingly. “The dimples.”
I laugh before I’m able to stop myself. “You know, I can’t really help that.”
“Help what?” She crosses her arms. “The flirting or the dimples?”
“Yes,” I say simply.