Page 92 of The Throne Seeker
She buried her face into his chest, the exhaustion finally taking its toll as her raw wrists pulsed with pain.
Her mother was the first to reach them, sprinting towards the pair with Zareb not far behind.
Her mother was here. She was safe. Rose could have sobbed with relief.
“Thank the everlasting gods,” her mother rejoiced, giving her the most suffocating hug she’d ever had. She scanned Rose fromhead to toe, mortified by the bloodstains on her dress. “Look at you! We need to get you to the healers, both of you.”
Rose grabbed her mother’s arm. “What happened? Are you okay? I heard you scream.”
Her mother stared at her, perplexed. “Me?”
“Yes, I heard you scream for me last night.”
“Screaming? I never screamed.” Her mother frowned. “Is that why you left your room?”
Rose’s gaze drifted away, not responding. She had her answer, then. It hadn’t been her mother’s screams at all. It had been a setup to lure her out, and she’d stupidly fallen for it.
Zareb appeared next, astonishing her by grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into his chest. The rare sentiment was all she needed to know that he’d gone out of his mind with worry. “I’m so sorry.” His fingers dug so hard into her back that she winced. “I should’ve never let you out of my sight.”
She held him tightly back. “It’s not your fault.”
Tristan folded his arms. “My father will have something to say about the fact, I’m sure,” he said, his tone hostile.
She was stunned that he would say such a thing. She skirted around Zareb, putting herself between them. “I’m the one who ran out of my room. He told me to stay put. He’s not to blame.”
Tristan’s hard gaze didn’t waver. “Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes casting out to the small group of people. “But I think there is more than one person to blame.”
All their eyes shifted to the high council, who were attempting to reach them, but with a single bark from the king, they stayed put.
She wished they’d been allowed. Then, she could push them off the cliff herself. Or call Neera back and offer her a feast—use their bones as toothpicks.
“Rose!” King Henrik cried, pulling her into his warm embrace. Tears streamed down the creases of his face. “Oh, thank Vallor. I thought we’d lost you.”
The queen, Harriet, and Roman joined the reunion.
“Oh good lord, look at you both,” the queen said, inspecting them. “To the healers. Both of you.”
“I’ll take Rose myself,” Tristan said, daring anyone to oppose him.
“You most certainly will not,” Harriet retorted. “You’re bleeding terribly yourself,” she said, her tone resembling her mother’s.
At last, Rose noticed his sliced-open tunic, revealing three large gashes where the sea creature had swiped. Her lungs gave out. She thought the beast had missed.
“I’m fine,” Tristan said, brushing them off even as he winced.
She lifted the ripped tunic to get a better look. They were worse than she’d feared. “These are deep.” She reprimanded herself for not noticing sooner. “You’re losing a lot of blood.”
“Bring the horses!” the king commanded, retreating into the crowd.
Tristan immediately withdrew, shaking his head. “I’m not leaving her,” he said, his voice raw.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Rose reassured him. “I promise. I’m fine.”
Tristan surprised her by pressing his mouth against hers. The trembling of his lips and hands let her know she’d terrified him today. Let her know he wouldn’t survive the loss of her.
She’d barely had a moment to return the kiss before he was dragged off to the nearest horse.
She planned to find her own way back, until Roman’s deep voice stopped her. “Let me help you.” The remnants of his earlier anger had vanished without a trace. He even offered a hand to help her onto his horse.
