“I am exhausted,” William said as he plopped onto the large bed in our small room.

“Get off the bed, William,” Isobel demanded, kicking his boots. “You got the bed last night. It’s our turn now.”

“Come on, Isobel,” William groaned. “It’s not like we’re going to sleep right this second.”

“But I don’t want your muddy boots and stinky clothes dirtying up the bed before Cat and I even get a chance to lay in it! Back me up here, Cat.”

I shook my head. “You guys can figure it out on your own. I’m stepping outside.”

Isobel sucked her teeth while William laughed triumphantly, and I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as I heard Isobel’s raised voice through the now closed door. I pressed my hands on the railing and looked down at the main floor of the inn. The innkeeper busied herself scrubbing her wooden counter while a worker stoked the fire in the large pit in the center of the room. As the night carried on, tables were slowly filling with travelers. Some played cards; many ate humble meals of soup, cheese, and bread; others talked; and even more stood around idly as they awaited the musicians to begin their tunes.

As I walked down the creaking stairs, I smiled warmly at the innkeeper. She had the usual, kind face of many of the residents we’ve met the past week we’ve been traveling through Midwaden. Their hands are calloused, and their faces are lined with years of work, but they are not nearly as hard or stern as the people of Penichros. Their lives were easier, and their labors reaped a greater reward here.

I breathed in deeply the moment I pushed open the heavy, wooden door; the cool, winter air brushed my curls out of my face. The moonlight bathed the grassy plains in a beautiful, blue hue, and the stars filled the black sky with brilliant, jewel-like twinkling. Onyx, who had been enjoying a perch on the inn’s swinging sign, came to sit on my shoulder, nuzzling her feathery head against my cheek and giving off the faint scent of berries.

“Please tell me you didn’t steal those from someone's farm,” I groaned. Onyx cocked her head playfully and then flew off, circling above me as though she wished to avoid being reprimanded for her thievery.

“So, both the bird and the mouse take what isn’t theirs,” a deep, brooding voice said, resonating through my chest and making my blood run cold.

“How did you find me?” I asked without turning my attention away from the beautiful sky. My hand gripped my dagger, and I readied myself for a fight.

“Why did you run is a far better question, I think.” Theo’s voice grew louder as he approached me. “You can let go of your blade, Mouse. I just want to talk.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” I asked, finally turning to face him but refusing to release my grip from my still hidden dagger. “You’re with them still, aren’t you?”

Theo faltered, and a muscle in his jaw ticked as he looked down at his shoes. “Mouse, listen—”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “You aren’t my Theo, not anymore, and we both know it. You can’t call me that.”

Theo stared at me. His silver eyes filled with remorse, longing, and a sadness I remember seeing him carry as a child—though it was much deeper now. The wind blew his black hair away from his face. The crease in his brow sent a sharp pang to my chest as I remembered that same expression when he’d focus so hard on making the meager meals he’d steal for me look as elegant as possible before sliding them beneath my prison bars.

“I don’t know why you followed me. I spared your life that night in the house, just as you saved mine when we were children. We’re even now, and it’s better we go our separate ways. Goodbye, Theo.”

“Caterina, wait,” Theo begged, grabbing my arm and then quickly holding my other hand the moment I tried to whistle for Onyx. “It’s not as bad as you think. Please, just listen to me.”

“Are you with the Council of Commons still? Letting your father do whatever he pleases, kill whoever he pleases, choose whoever he pleases to be king, priest, or whatever else?” I spat, my words laced with far more venom than I intended. If Alfred were here, he’d reprimand me for my inability to maintain my composure.

He hesitated for a moment. “Yes, but—”

“Then I want nothing to do with you, Theodore. There is no conversation we could have that would make me change that.”

“Just one night, please. Just give me one night—one hour even—of your time. I’ve looked for you for over a decade, Caterina. Please.”

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and internally scolded myself as a tear fell. “You know I’m not alone, right? I can’t just disappear.”

“I’m not asking you to come with me anywhere. I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“A chance to do what? Taint the memories I have with you? Make me hate you? Make me dread the day one of us inevitably has to kill the other—because we both know that is how this will end.”

“One night, Cat. Consider it closure, then we can pretend we never crossed paths again if that’s what you wish.”

I puffed up my cheeks and blew out a breath, trying to get my arm and hands free, but his grip only tightened the more I pulled. “Fine,” I conceded. “One night, but the next time you follow me, I’ll have Onyx pluck your eyes out.”