Page 52 of Fortress of Ambrose
And now that the words were coming, he couldn’t stop them.
“I think you love your brother, and what he is doing is hurting you even deeper than you admit. I sense that you hurt about a lot of things and bury them in intellect. I don’t know, but I get the impression you’ve never truly had a close friend. Just by the way we work together.” He stared at his feet because he wasn’t sure he could look at her and say the next thing. “For so long I didn’t want to even wake up day to day. I hatedmy family. I hated what the Order did to my life. But there was a person once, who—” He laced his fingers.
Nore shifted on her feet.
“She used to tell me that each day was a new day. A new chance to feel something good.”
“Yagrin, I’m sorry.” Nore was so close to him now the ends of her hair grazed his arm as the wind blew.
“When I was a child,” he went on, “I used to curl up near the window when it stormed outside, to watch. The violent ones were enthralling. But the best part was when the buckets of rain stopped, the booming thunder quieted, and the winds died down. Everything became socalm.” He held his chest. He could still feel it. “The cloudy sky would become this soft shade of gray. That’s what I see when I look into your eyes.”
Breath stuck in his chest. “I’ve said too much. I’m sorry.”
Nore grabbed his hand. “No, you haven’t.”
He stared at her, and part of him ached. She was alive, present, in the flesh. The other part mourned because her face wasn’t the one he wanted to see looking at him that way. But it was complicated. He meant what he said about Nore. He’d enjoyed being near her these weeks. It made him feel things he thought were dead. But if Red could live, his heart belonged to her and her only. He owed Nore nothing, but he wouldn’t lie to her. She was special in so many ways.
He took his hand away and cleared his throat. It was awkward now. He was so good at making things awkward. “I’m assuming you didn’t see your brother.”
Of course she hadn’t. She’d have mentioned that first. Could he be any more obvious about wanting to change the subject?
Nore let out a big breath and said, “I hoped to dig for information with Drew, but they seemed more interested in what I was doing here. Tomorrow I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Does Drew seem honest?” he asked.
“I’d say so, given how they greeted you.” She smirked. The levity was nice.
“Are you saying I need a shower?”
She tucked her lips.
He threw back his head in laughter.
“When was the last timeyoutook a shower?”
“It’s rude to suggest a lady smells. Shame on you.” Whatever else Nore said he didn’t hear. He liked her. He liked her a lot. And now he was consumed with his own imagination. Nore. Bathing. Rubbing suds all over her.
“We should get to the garden house.” He strode off. Hewouldbe taking a shower, a cold one.
Twenty-Two
Quell
The vines of black roses suffocating Chateau Soleil feel like they’re wrapped around my chest as we approach its gates. I never thought I’d see this place again. Certainly not by choice. Jordan stops walking because I do. He’s been my shadow, sticking close by while looking over his shoulder the entire trip. Willam, Yani, Knox, and the others travel at a distance, behind us. I sent Abby a note to let her know we’d be here, that she could meet us, but there’s no sign of her.
“Your grandmother thought of everything, it appears.” Jordan pricks his finger on a thorny flower, which sprouts two larger thorns.
I approach the gates and graze my fingers across the black roses. The blooms grow larger at my touch, curling toward me like they would the sun. Their vines and branches lengthen, reaching for me, winding around my wrist until I’m held to the gate by a tangle of prickly bush. The plant climbs up my arm, over my shoulders. When the stems tickle my neck, panic flickers in Jordan’s expression.
“They won’t hurt me.” I’m not sure how I know it. But I do. Not a single thorn appears on the lengthening vine. Only more rosebuds, blooming as fast as they appear. Stems circle my neck and wrap around my chest. Willam, Knox, and the others watch warily until the plant stops. I hold still, breath heavy in my chest, hoping my instincts are right.
When suddenly, the nest of roses pulls apart the spindles of the Chateau’s gate for us to enter.
Stepping inside the gates of Chateau Soleil is like walking on a bed of thorns. It hurts, like waking up from a nightmare that felt a bit too real.
The others trek across the sprawling lawn, which is a dense nest of weeds, their heads swiveling with curiosity despite this place being a far cry from what it looked like last Season. Yani especially. But I can’t move. It all hits me differently, a congestion of emotion sticking in my chest. I wonder if my grandmother found out what happened to my mother before she died. I couldn’t bear to tell her. I still won’t say the words.
Jordan sets down his bag and takes mine off my shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”
